Bridger’s eyes narrowed and the intensity in his eyes ramped up to a fucking 12. “No,” he barked. “You’re not finding a place when I have space here for you.” I blinked my wide eyes a few times, surprised by the force of his words. His eyes softened along with his voice, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before admitting, “I want you here. I need to know you and the baby are safe.”
Right. The baby. It was about the baby. Which is fine and completely understandable. It felt like I didn’t have much of a choice other than to nod my head in understanding and give in because I had already hidden the baby from him for months.
Then he led me up to his room, handed me some clothes and left me to shower. If I spent a little extra time smelling his body wash and hair care products, well, no one ever has to know about it.
I felt a lot better when I came back downstairs, no longer in my clothes from work and surrounded in the comfort of his worn sweats and a shirt that faintly smelled like him. When he caught sight of me, his eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t close the distance between us or pull me into his arms. Swallowing down my disappointment was more difficult than I’d like to admit.
Then the food arrived, and we kept the conversation light over dinner.
I have a feeling the time for light conversation is over.
Snuggling deeper into the couch isn’t going to delay the inevitable, but I do it anyway. A gasp escapes my lips when he reaches over, grips my thighs and turns me until my legs are draped across his lap. “I believe I promised a foot rub.”
I try to pull my legs away from him as I shake my head and insist, “You don’t need to do that.”
He smirks, his mouth pulling up on one side in a way that makes me want to launch myself at him. “I know I don’t have to, but I remember Wyatt talking about how Tenley would complain about her feet and ankles hurting. He said foot rubs were like gold in their house while she was pregnant.”
“Their little one is a few months old now?”
After making a humming sound, he nods and confirms, “Around three months. I’m sure Tenley’s number is on the list Amelia brought over.”
A huge smile breaks out across my face. “She was amazing and a little frightening.” Even though my eyes well up with tears, I blink them away. I’ve cried enough today, even if they would be happy tears.
A family.
She offered me a family.
I’m not sure if I’ll really be able to take her up on the offer, but it’s a nice thought that makes me feel warm from the inside out.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier when you mentioned getting your own place,” Bridger begins, his eyes fixed on my feet as he starts to massage the arch of my foot.
I let out the most unladylike groan as he hits a spot that makes my eyes cross, and my body goes limp. My voice is strained, “You don’t need to apologize to me about that. It just surprised me, but it does feel really good that you seem to want me here.”
When he runs his knuckles on either side of my Achillies tendon, I let out a porn star worthy moan. He shifts my legs slightly but doesn’t stop the movement of his hands. I eye him and the tips of his ears get red again.
“Sorry,” he grunts, and my eyebrows pull together in confusion.
“Why are you apologizing now?” I ask the question, clearly baffled.
Bridger clears his throat and grunts, “You make noises like that, and my cock goes hard as steel. You’re here and more than welcome, I just don’t want you to think there are strings attached that have anything to do with my dick.”
My mouth drops open and I make a noise in the back of my throat that would normally embarrass the hell out of me. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye with lust and my jaw clamps shut. The tension between us builds to the point that I’m uncomfortable and unsure of what to do or say.
“Could you imagine if there were strings attached to your dick. That would be quite the marionette,” I blurt the words and then clamp my hands over my mouth.
Bridger freezes for a moment before he throws his head back and laughs. This is a full-on belly laugh and all I can do is stare at him in awe.
“Fuck,” he gasps. When he gets himself under control his voice is tinged with a sweetness that goes straight to my heart, “I’m really glad you’re here Avery. I’m glad that when everything was falling apart, you thought to come to me.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I look down at where I’m twisting my fingers together on my lap. “I should have gone by to see you sooner.”
“Don’t do that,” his words are firm, but still contain an underlying warmth leftover from his laughter. “I’m not mad about it, and I understand how powerful fear is. You’re here now.”
“Yeah,” I murmur and then straighten up knowing I need to be a full-grown adult, “and I guess it’s time to talk about what we’ve both been avoiding—where we go from here.”
He nods, his jaw clenching. “I want you here, Avery, and not just because you’re carrying my baby. I’m not sure if I know how to be the man you need in this situation, but I’m not walking away. I don’t want to miss any more time.” When I cringe and look away, he sighs softly as his hand glides up my leg and squeezes the underside of my calf to bring my attention back to him. “I’m not saying that to be an asshole or pass judgement. It’s just a fact. I don’t want to miss any more time.”
It takes a lot of effort not to hear his words as a recrimination and to hear them with the sincerity his voice holds.
