Page 49 of Icebound

Rhode Tremblay is all man. But he’s not a man because he’s assertive or strong—no, anyone can be those things. He’s all man because he’s kind and thoughtful.

A door slams.

We jump.

“Tremblay, where you at?” a deep, familiar voice shouts. “Is Phil here yet? We brought shit for fish tacos, and Patty-Daddy brought a fuckton of blubes for Betty!”

“Stop cursing in front of my daughter. She’s about to say her first words any day.”

Loud footsteps thump down the hall, and we jerk apart, but not before two massive men fill the bathroom doorway. The blond guy with an adorable baby strapped to his chest slaps one hand over his eyes, and the other over the baby’s.

Micah Cruz does the opposite, letting his gaze rake over my body. Apparently, Micah still flirts with anyone that has a brain.

His black hair is shorter now, and he’s clearly been lifting a lot of weights. Rhode moves to stand in front of me like a bodyguard, shielding me from Micah.

“Well, hot damn, Phil. Look at you. I like the new tats. What’s going on in here, and how do I get an invite?”

13

RHODE

“Get out,” I demand, pointing to the broken door. I’ll have to go to the hardware store to fix it later. “Actually? No. We’re all leaving.”

I shove Cruz and Patty out of the bathroom, leaving Nina to finish changing in private. I need to get out of there because being that close to her is making it hard to breathe.

The conversation we had in the bathroom is deeper than any conversation I’ve had on a date. I had no idea she’s been through so much. It took everything in me not to let my eyes drop to her tits while she was talking, and I feel like a jackass for that.

I’m still angry with my cat for scratching her back, but a twisted part of me likes that I was the one to patch her up.

What kind of man does that make me?

I’m not going to think about that because then I’m going to have to think about why I dug through my closet until I found my old, favorite sweatshirt to give to her, even though I did laundry yesterday.

It definitely smells like my sweat, but I don’t want Nina to smell like Ocean Breeze laundry detergent—I want her to smell like me. I’m worse than an animal, apparently, marking her with my scent like I’ve got some claim on her when I don’t.

She’s eleven years younger than me. I’ve got no business looking at her, but I can’t seem to stop.

Chicken scurries across my floor, and I scoop him into my arms, nuzzling him for a second. I’m tempted to squeeze the hell out of him, but I still love the little guy even when he’s being a dick. He jumps out of my arms and heads to his cat castle.

Cruz rifles through the grocery bags on my kitchen counter. “Damn, and here I thought Phil would be the one scratching up your back, not the other way around.”

“Stop talking about Nina, and she told you to stop calling her Phil,” I grit out. “Respect that.”

“Have you not taken a shit today or what?” He looks up from a plastic bag. “And what’s going on with you two? I thought you said you weren’t into her.”

“Nothing’s going on. My cat scratched up her back, so I was helping her out. I’m taking her to a sponsorship event. That’s all.”

I need a distraction from Nina, so I tickle Betty’s tiny belly until she giggles. “Hi, baby girl, look at you getting so big. What’s your daddy been feeding you?”

Patty kisses her fuzzy blond head. “Smashed chickpeas and blueberries. They’re her favorite. She’s so strange, but she’s mine, and she’s in the ninety-fifth percentile for height, so I don’t care.”

I slap his shoulder. “That’s great, Pat—”

Cruz cracks open a bag of tortilla chips. “Did I tell you about the suction on this girl’s mouth from the other night? Unreal. I clogged up her vocal cords, but she kept on going like a fucking plunger.”

Glaring at Cruz, Patty drops Betty into the highchair I bought for when he visits. “You know, sometimes, you should think about the things you’re going to say before you say them.”

“But then I’d never say them.” Cruz tosses up a chip and opens his mouth.