Page 38 of If Love Had A Manual (Skeptically In Love #2)

L ena slips upstairs with Rosie safely tucked in her arms, murmuring softly to her in that warm, soothing voice I hear every time I return from work. That sound alone is starting to feel like home.

I linger in the kitchen, mechanically washing out bottles. It’s just anything to distract me from the memory of what we did tonight. My mind isn’t cooperating; it’s stuck replaying Lena’s soft sighs, the taste of her mouth, and how her body felt against mine.

I press my hands against the counter, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. What the hell is happening to me?

It’s a stupid question and one I already have the answer to.

Lena is happening to me.

Because that’s what she does.

She’s in my house, in my head, under my damn skin. Like gravity, pulling everything toward her without even trying. She’s leaving fingerprints on every part of my life, and I have no idea how to stop her. I’m not sure if I even want to.

None of it makes sense. Everything is messing with my head.

But Rosie called me Dada tonight, and that’s something fucking special.

I set the last bottle onto the drying rack and shake my head as if that’ll knock loose all these dangerous thoughts.

Milo gives me an expectant look from his spot near the fridge.

“You good?”

He bounds over and nuzzles against my knee.

“Alright, man. Just don’t piss on the floor again. We’ve had a long day.”

I let him out back, watching as he sprints across the yard like a four-legged maniac. A minute later, he trots back inside, tail wagging and looking real proud of himself.

“Look at you. Solving all your problems in the grass.”

He flops down and stares up at me with those judgmental little eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ve never had your entire world turned upside down by a woman who has the nerve to kiss like that.”

Milo blinks.

“Exactly. Count your blessings, bud.”

Although the poor bastard had his balls snipped by a female vet, I can’t say I’d want to look at a woman after that, either.

Killing the lights, I head upstairs.

Rosie’s door is ajar, a warm glow spilling into the hallway. I follow it like a moth because I’m a goddamn idiot with no survival instincts .

There’s a familiar hum of Lena singing hushed lullabies.

I lean against the doorframe, fully prepared to give her shit for it until I see them.

She’s curled up in the rocking chair, one arm around Rosie and the other draped over her lap. Her voice is barely a whisper, but the sound of it settles something low in my chest.

I don’t move. I don’t speak.

I couldn’t if I wanted to.

This woman has rendered me mute.

Because this is what peace looks like.

It’s dangerously domestic, painfully perfect, and I can’t even pretend it doesn’t strike me right in the center of a space I thought was hollow, filled only by the spaces reserved for Rosie.

How fucking wrong was I?

Lena lifts her head, spotting me leaning against the doorframe as her mouth tilts into a tired smile. “I’ll put her down in a minute. I just wanted an extra cuddle.”

“Looks like Rosie isn’t the only one getting cuddles here.”

She smiles again, softer now, eyes fluttering closed. “She gives great cuddles.”

“You didn’t have to stay,” I tell her, keeping my voice low. “It’s your weekend off.”

“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

She’s right. Rosie needs her. Hell, I need her.

“Let me change, and I’ll take over. You’re exhausted.”

“Mmkay,” she murmurs, already halfway under.

I duck into my room and strip off my clothes, but my mind betrays me the second my shirt hits the floor. I see her again—back against the door, dress hitched up, her mouth on mine. I curse under my breath and yank on sweats and a clean tee like it’ll wring the memory out of me.

When I return to Rosie’s room, I discover both girls asleep, so I ease Rosie out of Lena’s arms and settle her into her crib.

“Sorry,” Lena whispers from behind me, sitting up on the rocker.

I turn to face her before grabbing her hand. “Come on, you can take my bed.” She’s about to argue, but I cut her off. “You’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”

“I’ll take the couch.”

“No, you won’t. No arguments. Bed. Now.”

She follows without more protest, too tired to argue as I guide her into my room.

Eyes widening, she looks around. “I’m finally getting the VIP tour.”

I chuckle, grabbing a T-shirt from the dresser. “You’re trying to tell me that your snooping never led you in here?”

“You have a very low opinion of me, Wesley.” The back of her knees hit the bed, and she collapses onto the mattress.

I tug her up again. “Come on. You’ll sleep better without this.” My pulse jumps as I gesture to the tight black dress still hugging her curves.

She raises her arms, too exhausted to feel shy, and allows me to slide the dress up and off.

Jesus.

She’s all lace and curves, eyes closed, completely trusting.

And no fucking bra .

This woman.

My heart pounds wildly, hands itching to touch her again.

Covering temptation as fast as I can, I quickly slip the T-shirt over her head.

She laughs under her breath. “I feel like a toddler.”

“Sometimes you even act like one,” I tease gently, guiding her back onto the pillow, where she quickly settles.

I hover there, staring down at her face, because the ease with which she occupies my bed shakes me to my core.

This feels so right. My bed, my shirt, Lena asleep under my roof. It’s terrifyingly good. It’s everything I want and everything I can’t have.

I linger a second too long, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead before forcing myself to step back. Her breathing evens out, lips parted, face relaxed in sleep.

She’s beautiful.

She’s devastating.

And I’m in deep shit.

Blowing out a breath, I retreat downstairs to the couch. Milo follows, hopping onto the cushions beside me.

“No,” I tell him. “Down.”

He blinks but doesn’t move.

“Don’t start. You’ve got a whole damn bed.”

With a sigh, he hops off and flops dramatically onto the rug as if I just ruined his night.

“Yeah, well, join the club.”

I grab a pillow and settle in, but I’m never going to sleep.

Lena’s upstairs in my bed, wearing my shirt, and I’m down here like an idiot talking to a dog.

“What the hell did I get myself into? ”

Milo’s already snoring.

“Helpful. As always.”

I close my eyes and let the quiet wrap around me.

Rosie’s safe. Lena’s here. The house feels…full. Settled.

It won’t last. I know that.

But for now, this feels like something close to perfect.