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He scratches the side of his jaw. “I thought you were gonna let that one go.”
“Did you clean it up? I’m so sorry. Potty training hasn’t been going well.”
“I threw the box away and got her changed.” He shrugs and leans back against the tub again. “I loved hanging out with her. Even got her to pee on the toilet once.”
“How?”
“Bribed her with jelly beans.”
“Clever. Thank you for taking care of her.” I touch my hand gently to his bruised cheek, and he blinks slowly, watching me. “Does your face hurt?”
His lashes lower. “A little, but not bad. I’ve had worse.”
You can see the small strip of white tape across the bridge of his nose. “Did it break your nose too, or just cut it?”
“Cracked the bridge.” He runs his fingers over the tape. “Not bad though. Didn’t displace it. I’ll still have my charming good looks.” He winks, his eyes dropping to my bare tits he can’t keep his hands off.
“How long are you out for?”
“Few games.” He shrugs, a smirk forming. “Were you worried about me?”
“More than I want to admit.”
He draws in a breath as if he’s preparing himself for what he never saw coming and takes my face in his hands. “Come to dinner with me. Tomorrow night.” I start to say no, because this isn’t what he needs. But he puts his thumb to my lips. “I’m begging you, and Idon’tbeg. But you, you make me so fucking weak.”
“Why me, Cason?” I ask, his thumb sliding from my lips and to my chin where he angles my face up to meet his. “You’re young, incredibly talented, have a career ahead of you… what do you want with a widowed mom?”
Leaning forward, he presses his lips to mine once more. “You’re underestimating yourself. Again.”
“Cason—”
“Stop saying my name like that,” he snaps, a sudden edge to his tone I haven’t heard before. “Stop trying to convince me I’m not what you need. You and I both know I am and the more you push me away, the more I want you. So stop. It’s not doing either one of us any good.”
My heart does those flips again. Pissed off Cason is even hotter with this adorable side.
“I don’t know where I’ll be in six months,” he adds, his voice softer. “Or what this will be, but I don’t want to waste any time. It’s just dinner.”
It’s so much more than dinner, and he knows it, but I agree regardless. “Okay. One date.”