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“Well that went…about as expected,” I say when we’re in the car after dinner.

“Your sister didn’t seem to like me.” He pulls out of the driveway to head toward the apartment.

“She’s just got it in her head that I’m supposed to be with her boyfriend’s best friend.” I roll my eyes. “She doesn’t know him like I do. It was fine for a long time, and then it wasn’t, and she refuses to believe it was something he did.”

“Your dad is hilarious,” he says.

I smile. “He is. And he loves you. He just wants me to be happy, that’s all. My mom, too.” I think about Colt and Mav and how I want a couple of little ones running around, and then I think about what a great father Travis is to Harper. I wonder how he’d do with babies. I can totally picture him holding a little one in his arms with the zombie-esque lack of sleep of a dad of a newborn, having no idea what to do, how to change a diaper, how to make a bottle.

The image makes me giggle.

“What?” he asks.

“Have you ever changed a diaper?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nope. I’ve never even held a baby.”

“Do you ever want to?” I guess it’s my sideways way of asking whether he wants more kids.

“Never really thought about it, to be honest. Not until Harper came along, anyway. I feel like I missed out on so much of everything, and I never even had a choice in the matter. And now I’m all she has.” He reaches across the console and grabs my hand. “And you.”

I squeeze his hand then decide to come right out with the question. “Do you want more kids?”

He’s quiet as he contemplates it, and I feel like either you do or you don’t. What’s there to think about?

“I don’t know. I always thought I didn’t, but now I’m starting to think it was my way of shutting down since I didn’t get to be a part of things when Harper was little. My life was flipped upside down when she walked into it six weeks ago, and while I’m totally fumbling my way through this dad thing, I don’t hate the thought of having more and not missing out on it this time.”

Tears spring to my eyes at the way he words that. I don’t think even he realized how much he missed out on until he had no other choice but to be her everything, and that’s something both really sweet and really tragic in that.

“What about you?” he asks tentatively.

“I’ve always wanted to be a mom,” I answer honestly. If we can’t have these honest conversations at the beginning, we’ll never be able to have them. And that is the crux of what went wrong with Owen. I wish I could make Vanessa see that. “I’d love at least two, maybe more.”

“Was tonight hard on you?” he asks, completely changing the subject.

My brows knit together. “In what way?”

He shrugs. “Your sister has two kids. She invited the ex to show you that goal you’ve always wanted to reach—the thing she has— isn’t as close as you thought it was.” He pauses. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t a nice way to word it.”

“No, it’s fine,” I say. “I think I stayed with him much longer than I should have because I was afraid of starting over, of pushing motherhood further and further away. But everything happens for a reason, and everything happens when it should. At least that’s what I have to believe.”

He sighs. “You’re going to make an amazing mother someday, Hartley. I see you with Harper, and I can see that special thing neither of my parents ever had with me.”

I squeeze his hand again. “Despite all that, you’re an incredible father to that little girl.”

“Just doing my best.” He rolls to a stop at a red light, and he glances over at me. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Spend the night with me.”

“I can’t,” I say. “You need to go pick up Harper, and I need to prepare for a job interview on Tuesday.”

“Oh, right. You mentioned something about that to your mom—what’s that all about?” he asks.

“There’s an opening for a position at the district office for a reading specialist. It’s always been my dream job—to have a direct impact on making the program as accessible as possible for as many kids as we can. One of the directors at the district office came by to observe me on Friday and offered me an interview, and I’ve spent the weekend messing around with you instead of preparing.”

“That’s amazing. Maybe I can help,” he offers.

I narrow my eyes at him. “How?”

He chuckles. “Well, I can vouch that you’re excellent at what you do given the fact that you’ve been helping my daughter and me. And I can, you know, help you work out the kinks.”

My mind immediately goes into the gutter given the incredibly kinky romance novel I’ve been reading with a girl who squirts and the four men—all with different kinks—who make her do it.

“The kinks?” I repeat.

He chuckles. “Oh, you know, BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, role playing, choking…”

He’s teasing me, so I go full throttle on him. “I’m more into the praise kink if I’m being honest.”

His head whips over to me.

“Eyes on the road!” I yell, and he laughs.

“Tell me more about this praise kink,” he says.

My cheeks redden as I try to come up with a way to explain it. “I guess it means I get sexual pleasure out of being complimented.”

“So if I said you’re a really good reading teacher, you’d get off on that?” he asks.

“More like in bed.” My cheeks get even redder, but if I was having this conversation with anyone aside from Travis, I’d be covering my face in mortification. Instead, I feel…almost comfortable talking to him about this.

“Hm,” he murmurs. His voice gets all deep and throaty. “So if I told you that I can’t stop thinking about your perfect ass and what it would be like to fuck it, that might turn you on?”

“Maybe a little,” I squeak.

“What if I told you the way you swallowed my come the other day was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?” he asks.

“Um, yeah, that would be sexy.”

“And if I said I loved the way you moved your hot little cunt over my face that first night at the apartment, that would do something to you?”

I shift in my seat and clear my throat, and then…fuck it.

I grab his hand, lift my dress, and press his fingertips to the outside of my damp panties to show him what he’s doing to me.

He ups the ante and slides my panties to the side, running a finger through me before pushing it inside.

“Oh God,” I say, closing my eyes and leaning my head against the headrest.

“That’s a good girl,” he says. “Take my finger like you’re going to take my cock again.”

And then he finger fucks me to a raging hot climax while he drives me back to the apartment.

I draw in a deep, shuddering breath as he pulls his finger out once my body starts to calm, and I keep my head back for a few beats, my eyes closed as I relish the warm afterglow.

We’re almost back to the apartment, and I want to swallow his come again—something I have never, not once, had the urge to do.

I lean over the console, unzip his jeans, and pull his cock out, and then I suck it into my mouth and give him the same sort of pleasure he just gave me.

His hand rests on my head while he casually—and safely—gets us back to our destination, and just after he pulls into a parking spot and cuts the engine, he thrusts up into my mouth and starts to come.

I take it all in and swallow it down, and he uses that praise phrase again that I will never get tired of hearing. “Good girl.”

I nearly cream my panties again just from hearing his words.

Hmm…that could be an interesting future experiment.

“That was more what I meant about working out the kinks. You know…finding ways to help you relax,” he says as I sit up and wipe the sides of my mouth.

I laugh. “I think I liked this much better.”

He leans over and kisses me. “Me too. I’m always at your service if you need additional relaxation. Or kinks. Your call.”

I laugh, and then I say goodbye and head inside. He sits in the car and watches me until I make it in, and I already miss him the second I walk through the door.

Oh man. I’m in trouble.