“Your dick just twitched, didn’t it?” Hands in his pockets, Cody stopped on the threshold next to him and surveyed the crowd.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His grip on the handles of his crutches tightened, and he tore his gaze off Summer long enough to shoot a warning glare Cody’s way.
“The nanny.” He hitched his chin toward the corner of the room where she sat huddled with Zander by the windows. “Hard to miss the way she’s got you stunned stupid.”
“I’m not fucking stunned stupid,” Jamie grumbled, his gaze swinging back to her in time to catch her laugh at something Zander said. She took the guitar he handed to her, snugged it to her body, and played a couple of notes he couldn’t hear from across the noisy room.
“Sure, and I’m not the Casanova everyone thinks I am.”
Jamie frowned. With every muscle in his face. “She’s off limits, fucknut. So don’t even think—”
“Easy there, doc daddio.” Cody held up his hands—palms out. “Summer’s a sweet girl, but she’s not my type, and I’m not hers. Besides, I don’t roost where the hens lay their eggs.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Look around you, numbnuts. She’s family. And I don’t mess with family.”
Following the order, he swung his gaze from one grouping to the next. On the couch in front of the fire, Eve cuddled with Halia while Davis sat on the floor by her feet, his arm slung around Jeff’s thick neck.
Over by the pool table, Gray threatened to impale Grant with her cue while Chase laughed like his wife was the most adorable person on the planet, and not a terrorist capable of inflicting a significant amount of pain.
Whiskey glass in hand, Adam leaned against the bar, chatting with Jay while he shook his head, grinning at his sister’s antics. And back in the corner, Summer repositioned Zander’s fingers on the strings as their lesson continued.
Yeah, by all appearances, this family gathering could pass for any other. Except for the amount of hardware concealed in pockets, strapped to hips, or holstered under arms. Guns. Knives. Extra magazines. Maybe a set of brass knuckles or two.
Everyone in the room carried something—except for Summer. She may have a pick under her mattress, but he’d be willing to bet if he stripped her naked right now, he wouldn’t find a damn thing she could use to defend herself.
Fresh in his mind, the image of her in a curve-hugging sleep set, nipples erect, curls a mess, made his dick twitch—again—and as if she could feel him, her head lifted, and her eyes snapped to his.
A blast of heat warmed his skin as awareness prickled across the distance between them.
Cody snorted. “Like I said, stunned stupid.” He sac-tapped Jamie to get his attention. “You still my partner for the tournament?”
Jamie flinched but didn’t take his eyes off Summer. “Davis still kicking everyone’s ass?”
“Yeah. Him and the hot little number who’s got you staring like a deer-in-the-headlights. You in?”
“Fuck, yeah. I’m in.”
One night.
He’d take Nalini’s advice and give himself one night to rest and relax. Focus on the here and now. And take pleasure in the little things.
Tomorrow?
He was flipping the switch and going balls to the wall. Right or wrong, he’d taken responsibility for Summer and Halia, and until he convinced her to take the baby somewhere they’d both be safe, he had no choice but to get his shit together and his head on straight.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Head bent,Jamie braced himself with one palm pressed against the shower tiles, the other he wrapped around his aching cock. His grip firm, he stroked, and fuck yeah, he needed this.
Hot water prickled against his shoulders. Warmed his skin. Eased his sore muscles. After a week of daily physical therapy, his mobility had improved—some. The pain accompanying him twenty-four seven? Not so much.
The air steamed around him, coating the glass enclosure in a foggy haze as he pumped his fist in a slow, steady rhythm. He wanted this to last. Wanted this to last even as he craved the release. She did this to him. Summer—with her pretty pink lips and perfect ass.
She made him hard. Every fucking morning.
He blamed her scent. It lingered on her pillow. The one he’d exchanged for his. Each time he laid his head down, the sweet smell of her coaxed him to sleep. By morning, his hunger for her woke him. Stiff. Needy. Desperate.
