Page 80 of From the Ashes

“Baby,” he says, reaching his arms forward, snagging my left wrist as I pass in front of him for the nineteenth time. “Come here.”

I let him pull me down onto his lap as if I weigh nothing. He buries his face in my neck, kissing me on the sensitive spot I—incorrectly—thought was just a turn-on for girls, and instantly, I relax.

Right until I hear the car approaching.

“Oh shit, they’re here.” I bolt off Phoenix’s lap, laughing nervously. “You don’t happen to have another stuffed animal, do you? Fuck, why am I just now thinking about that? I should have prepared better!”

Phoenix disappears into the kitchen and comes back a minute later with a shot glass and a tray of… “Are those horse-shaped sugar cookies?” I ask in disbelief.

“Here,” he says, thrusting the shot at me. “Drink this.” I throw it back, letting the burn soothe my nerves. “Good boy. Now, take these cookies and offer them to our guests when they arrive.”

Ourguests.

The way Phoenix has just accepted this and is willingly stepping into the potential chaos I’m bringing into his life is unexpected in the best way.

How is he so fucking good at this?

When did he have time to make these?

Why does he have a horse-shaped cookie-cutter? And why didn’t I think to do it?

I’m starting to spiral again.

My throat now burns for a reason that has nothing to do with the liquor I just downed, and I’m trying to pull myself together, but failing.

“Hey,” Phoenix says, wiping his thumb under my eye. “Cowboys don’t cry.”

“This one does.” I laugh and wipe my eyes. “Thank you, Phoe.”

He plants a gentle kiss on my lips and I melt under his touch.

“Fuuuck,” he groans. “Your lips are sinful, DeVille.”

It’s not the first or even the second time Phoenix has mentioned my lips. I think they might be his favorite part of my anatomy. He leans back in, pulling my bottom one into his mouth and sucking not-so-gently this time.

At the sound of slamming car doors, we break apart, and he gives me a reassuring nod. “I’ll wait here until you’re ready.”

Taking a deep breath, I steady myself and head for the front door with the plate of sugar cookies in my hands.

My lips part in a genuine smile when I see Alexis, and the grin only widens when Colton pops out of his booster seat in the back, waving enthusiastically.

“Hi, Mr. DeVille!” he yells, causing a burning sensation in my chest. Although Alexis and I agreed not to tell him I’m his dad just yet, I still wanted him to call me Walker, but Alexis said that would be confusing to him because he isn’t allowed to call other adults by their first names. Reluctantly, I agreed.

“Colton! Hey, buddy!” I don’t mean to crowd them, but I can’t help myself. I’m down the steps of the front porch in a flash. “Hey, Alexis. Thank you for bringing him out here today.”

She greets me with a warm smile. “It’s all he’s been talking about since you mentioned there were broncos here.” Her eyesflit to the plate in my hand. “You bake?” she asks, a tone of amusement accentuated by a brow raise.

Subconsciously, I rub the back of my neck with my injured hand.

“Oh, uh, no. Phoenix made these. Can Colt have one?”

“Mom,please?” he whines, looking up at his mother with rueful eyes. He’s missing a front tooth and he’s hard to say no to. He’s a beautiful kid. Shy until he’s been around you for a few minutes and then wide open and smart as a whip. He has the best features from Alexis and I, and although I haven’t been present in his life, it’s hard not to feel pride at the little person my DNA helped create.

“Yes, honey. You can have a cookie, but what do you say?”

“Thank you, Mr. DeVille.”

“Anytime. Why don’t you guys come on in? You can put your stuff down and meet Phoenix. He’ll be joining us at the barn because I really need both hands to be able to control the horses, and I’m down to one,” I say, holding up my brace even though Alexis already knows the story.