she just has to have it. That’s exactly how I feel about this jacket.
I haven’t had a reason to do myself up in ages, and damn, I look good. We’ll see just how lucky he is by the end of the night.
Shit. No. Don’t go there, Amelia. Bad idea. The last time I let a man get lucky, I ended up pregnant. Now I forever have the bastard in my life, despite it resulting in one of the best things to have ever happened to me.
I go to find Bull, and the second I take a step out into the hallway, the nerves hit. I take a deep breath before slowly letting it out. I can do this. There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s just dinner, and then I’m sure we’ll talk, and if I’m feeling it, we can talk a little more. If not, I say goodnight. No strings attached.
What was Zoey thinking when she got me into this mess? Actually, I know exactly what she was thinking, and while she’s right, I do need a little action in the bedroom, I’m not sure I’m quite ready for it.
Making my way up the hallway, I notice him in Ryan’s bedroom. What the hell does he think he’s doing?
I step into the doorway of my little girl’s bedroom and stare at the man in wonder. His sleeves are rolled up, showing off impressive forearms, but what stuns me is the paintbrush in his hand, expertly running the pink paint along the wall with precision. I mean, this guy does not need any tape to keep in his own lane, but something tells me that he’s more than happy to get a little messy if that’s what the situation calls for.
I lean against the doorframe and watch him for a silent moment. It’s mommy porn. Watching a man doing something for one of my kids is easily the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. No wonder I haven’t been attracted to Bryce since the girls were born. He wouldn’t know a damn thing about doing something for his kids, yet here’s this man, slathering pink paint onto the wall of a little girl’s bedroom he met once.
“Are you going to keep standing there, or are you going to get that fine ass of yours in here and help?”
My mouth drops open before I snap it closed once again. I hadn’t realized my gawking was so damn obvious. “Umm … what are you doing?”
Bull turns around with a perfect smile and a dimple that has my knees going weak. “Fuck me,” he says, his eyes roaming up and down my body before he drops the paint brush and strides forward, taking me in and sending butterflies coursing through me. “Has anybody ever told you how fucking beautiful you are?”
I feel my cheeks flame as the butterflies go wild, unable to answer, too ashamed of the answer being no. The only man I’ve ever let close enough never once found it necessary to tell me I was beautiful, so hearing it now from this man has me wanting to shut down. I felt worthless for so many years, and all of a sudden, I have this perfect man painting my daughter’s room, making me feel things I haven’t felt for a very long time, if ever.
Bull watches me closely, and his brows dip, telling me that somehow, he knows exactly what is going through my mind. He leans in, and I melt as he presses his lips to my forehead. “Let me in, Angel, and I swear, you will know your worth.”
My eyes close, taking pleasure from the way his lips skim over my skin. The need to raise my chin and let his lips drop to mine pulses through me.
I pull back slightly, and he gives me the space I need. Clearing my throat, I gesture to the room behind him. “You’re painting Ryan’s room.”
Bull looks back over his shoulder, taking in his handiwork. “I’ve decided we’re staying in and giving your baby a room to die for. What do you think?”
“What happened to this date of yours?”
“Of ours,” he corrects. “Change of plans. I’d rather stay here.”
“But …” I give in, the fight completely leaving me. The idea of staying in is actually sitting really well with me.
“No ‘buts’ baby,” Bull says, stepping back into the room, scooping up the paintbrush as he goes. “There’s no backing out now. Besides,” he adds, looking back over his shoulder, “Something tells me you’d