Page 68 of Bedtime Stories
“Help?”
His eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly he doesn’t look like my lawyer. He looks like my Daddy, the one who knows me too well to let me wriggle out of this.
I groan and cover my face with both hands. “Don’t make me say it.”
He chuckles, prying my hands away so he can kiss my forehead.
“I don’t need you to say it, baby boy. I already know.”
Keane sets the bonbon box back on the counter, but he doesn’t move away. His hand settles warm and heavy at the small of my back, and suddenly my knees want to give out.
“So,” he says lightly, “your friends think I need encouragement.”
“They’re ridiculous,” I mutter. “It’s not—this isn’t—I didn’t ask them to?—”
“Oh, I believe you.” His thumb strokes my spine, soothing in a way that only makes me squirm harder. “But the question is… did you eat one?”
I choke. “It was chocolate! How was I supposed to know?”
He chuckles, low and wicked, and tips my chin up so I have to meet his eyes.
“Mm. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you took a bite.”
“I didn’t!” My voice squeaks, which is not helping my case.
Keane grins, leans down, and presses a playful kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“Well, intentional or not, your little playdate committee clearly wants me to know something.” His mouth brushes my ear as he murmurs, “That you’re ready for more.”
Heat explodes across my skin. I bury my face in his chest, groaning.
“I’m going to kill them.”
He laughs, wrapping me up. “Don’t. They’re very fond of you.” Then softer, with that Daddy weight in his voice: “And they’re not wrong, are they?”
My breath stutters. I want to say no. I want to say yes. I want to disappear into his shirt and never come out. Instead, I mumble, “I think they should mind their own business.”
Keane tips my face back up, his eyes focused on mine.
“Baby boy, when it comes to you, Iamtheir business.” His smile softens. “And they just handed me your secret in eggplant socks.”
