Page 33

Willow

T he world spins a little more off-key as I shut Lily’s car door behind me and make my way up the walkway.

I’m not drunk, but just warm. Floaty. In that lovely buzz that lowers your guard and makes you believe your own ridiculous thoughts.

Like the one where I remember thinking Rocket wanted me.

Yeah. Right.

I press my hand against the front door to steady myself. The short respite has every second of the past four hours replaying through my head. The time spent trying to enjoy myself but thinking about Rocket instead.

There were plenty of guys paying attention to me. Flirty glances, dirty jokes, and attempts at buying drinks, but every one of them fell flat.

And annoyingly, I know it’s because none of them were him .

None of them looked at me like I was the only woman in the room. None of them stared at my mouth like they werestarving.

None of them were Rocket fucking Caldwell .

“A good night’s sleep will fix it,” I mutter to myself as I unlock the front door.

That or a toe-curling, mind-bending orgasm.

I shut the door as quietly as possible and slip off my shoes so they don’t click on the floor and make too much noise. I don’t make it five steps into the great room before I stop.

Because I see them.

Rocket on the couch, shirtless and hair tousled, with his head tilted back, his eyes closed, and one arm wrapped around her. And then there’s Poppy, curled up on his chest with her hand splayed over his heart like it belongs there.

My heart cracks open.

He’s never looked sexier and for reasons way beyond what he physically looks like. It’s not lust I feel. It’s a deeper sensation that I don’t have a name for yet. It’s terrifying and invigorating.

I struggle to find a breath and fear that if I look away, when I look back, the sight of them together will be gone. Like this is some weird dream that will disappear.

But it doesn’t. Not when Rocket stirs and blinks awake slowly. He yawns quietly as his eyes find mine, and a sluggish smile plays on his lips.

“You’re home early.”

Early ? I guess by his standards, midnight is early, but not for me.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks.

“Yes.” It’s partially true. I had a good time because I was with Lily, but my thoughts were here. On him. “No complaints.” I set my heels down and take a step closer. “Looks like you two got along.”

He shifts slightly, careful not to jostle her. “It wasn’t all smooth sailing. We struggled to communicate for a bit, had some tantrums, played some piano, but we worked it out.”

I smile. “You most definitely did.”

He stands carefully with Poppy still curled against him. The sight staggers me. It’s the first time I’ve seen him carry her. The first time I’ve seen her cherubic curls and chubby cheeks pressed against his inked skin. And the first time I’ve seen him show such tenderness with her.

It’s disarming. It’s sexy.

“Let me go tuck her in,” he says quietly and disappears down the hallway to her bedroom .

I follow him until the dark hallway engulfs him and then lean on the kitchen island, swaying slightly, my buzz mixing with adrenaline and want.

I feel brave. Hell, I feeldangerous.

I was just surrounded by attractive, eligible men, and yet the only one I wanted to come home to is in the other room, putting his daughter to bed—shirtless, inked, and unknowingly shattering every norm I’ve ever held tight.

You never crush on your boss.

You never want your charge’s dad.

You never cross that line.

Oblivious to my thoughts, Rocket walks back into the kitchen a minute later, rubbing the back of his neck. “How was your night?” he asks as he busies himself doing nothing of significance in the kitchen.

I don’t respond until he lifts his eyes and meets mine. “You already asked. I already answered. I said it was fine.”

He lifts his brows and murmurs, “Hmm.”

“Hmm?” I repeat. He looks ridiculously sexy right now. Rumpled, a little tired, muscles flexed as he shoves his hands in his pockets, and tattoos shifting with every move. “What does ‘hmm’ mean?”

He takes a step closer, that lazy confidence radiating off him again, except this time it’s edged with something darker. Hungrier.

Guess I’m not the only one who wants more.

“ Hmm as in I think you had one of two plans tonight.”

“Plans?”

“Yeah. Plans. Either you orchestrated tonight to force me to bond with Poppy ...” He toggles his head from side to side. “Or to make me jealous.”

“Why would I try to make you jealous?” The last word hitches as he steps closer.

His smile is lopsided. Cocky. “Because I want you. Because I haven’t stopped wanting you.”

Hello, Rocket. And hello to that sweet ache between my thighs.

“Good,” I state and lift a lone brow in challenge.

He leans in, eyes locked on mine. “Good? I never figured you for a tease, Wills.”

“Maybe I’m not teasing. Maybe it’s mutual. Maybe I want you just as much.”

And that’s all it takes.

One challenging statement. One tilt of my head. One lift of my chin .

He reaches out, his hands sliding to my hips and pulling me flush against him in one sharp, fluid motion.

“Is that so?” he asks, gravel straining his voice.

I don’t answer—can’t—because his mouth is on mine.

His kiss is demanding—hungry, consuming,perfect—with his lips parting mine, tongue brushing deep, hands gripping me like he’s starved and I’m the only thing on the menu.

My muted, broken moan is all it takes.

He picks me up without warning, one arm under my ass as my legs lock around him, and our lips meet to take more.

“Rock—”

“You planned this, didn’t you?” he asks, his breath warm as his lips brush against my neck.

My chuckle turns into a moan as I lean back and meet his eyes. “If I say yes, will you shut up and kiss me again?”

He flashes a wicked grin. “You’re damn right I will. That and a hell of a lot more.”

And then he’s carrying me down the hallway into his bedroom.