Page 20 of Home Run (The New York Lions #5)

“I’ll remember that,” he replied, his eyes darkening.

It was only for a split second, but plenty long enough to remind me of the last time I’d seen his eyes that particular color.

The way his tongue licked along his lower lip didn’t help, because then all I could think about was what else that tongue had licked. What it was capable of.

Urgh, this baby was messing with my head .

The clearing of his throat brought my mind back to the present and out of the dark recesses where I stored things I really shouldn’t be thinking about. And from the way he was looking at me, I knew I hadn’t been listening again.

“Did you say something?”

“Yes. What flavor ice cream?”

“Oh, any flavor. Chocolate obviously, because that’s all this baby seems to want. But I’m not fussy. I’m open to all flavors.”

The way Tanner’s lips rolled as he held in a smile had my mind flicking back to that dark recess. “In case you were wondering, my favorite is lemon and marionberry.”

“Marionberry?”

“It’s kind of like a blackberry. There’s an ice-cream store out in California near where Holiday lives and they make it. I discovered it a few years ago and now have it shipped over here every month.”

“They have ice cream in New York, you know?”

I’d never seen such a serious expression on his face. “Not this one they don’t.”

“Hmm, well, I’ll have to try it.”

“Maybe I’ll share mine.” He grinned before his eyes dropped to my hand on my stomach. “Is everything okay?”

I nodded. “Yes, I just lie like this sometimes.”

It started a couple of weeks ago, the first time I’d really felt it soften, after our appointment with the doctor. It was comforting, settling almost, and helped me feel I was keeping my baby safe. Our baby safe.

His fist clenched, then opened again as his eyes darted back to mine. “Can I? ”

“Sure.” I eased my hand away to make room for his to replace it.

Long, tanned fingers splayed over my skin. I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect his hand to be so warm, to feel the calluses on his palms, or for my heart to beat so erratically the moment he made contact.

“I can’t believe there’s a baby in there.” His whisper was almost reverential as he stared down at his hand. “I wish I didn’t have to be away for so long.”

“You’ll be back before you know it. And then we’ll have our ultrasound.”

There was no mistaking the emotion in his eyes when they met mine. It was enough that another wave built in my throat. I’d already cried enough in front of Tanner, I didn’t want to cry any more.

“Will you send me pictures?”

“Pictures of the bump?”

“Yes. And I have our book too. And don’t forget to download the app.”

Oh yes, the app. It was one of many, many baby apps that tracked the growth of your baby and compared it to a vegetable.

Or a fruit. Or an obscure vegetable. Or an obscure fruit.

Radley had mentioned it, then Tanner had read about it in one of the doctor’s leaflets, and then found it again in one of the two dozen pregnancy books he’d ordered.

There were so many that he couldn’t decide which one he wanted, and my suggestion of us each having different ones was swiftly vetoed because then we can’t link them up.

Finally, after more than a week of indecision, he made a choice .

“This week is a strawberry. When I get back, it’ll be something else.”

“I’ll download it, I promise.”

My skin immediately cooled as he pulled his hand away and shifted back onto his haunches. “I’m glad you’re here, Mills.”

Sitting up straight, I twisted to rest my elbows against the edge of the bath. “Thank you for organizing it all, even with my brothers bullying you into it.”

“First off, your brothers didn’t bully me into anything, so let’s kill that rumor before it starts.” He paused, the beginnings of a smirk curled up one side of his lip. “Second, you living across the hall is going to make it much easier for you to fall in love with me.”

My brows dropped while my brain tried to catch up and figure out if I heard what I think I heard.

“You heard me.” Tanner pushed up to standing, this time not bothering to hold in his grin. It was the type of grin he always used to flash in my direction, almost baiting me into a response, the way his eyes danced with amusement.

It was all far too irritating.

Except the most irritating thing about it was that I didn’t find it quite as irritating as I used to do.

“You wish.”

“I do, actually.”

“Tanner, I might be carrying a baby we made together, but that’s it.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not it. And the sooner you admit it to yourself, the sooner we can get on with the rest of our lives. ”

“Tanner—”

“I have to go, need to be at the stadium in thirty.” He leaned down and I was engulfed in the scent of Tanner Simpson—that earthy, woody, boy scent of his—which had my senses reeling.

And this time when his hand found my belly, his lips pressed against the top of my head. “Bye, baby, catch you later, Mills.”

I was still lying in the bath twenty minutes later when the intercom buzzed. I got to the elevator doors as they opened to find one of the guys from the front desk holding a box.

Inside were two pints of ice cream—one chocolate, one marionberry—and six assorted jars of bath salts.