Seventeen

ROWAN

“I only care that you’re talking about my balls, baby,” Jensen said to me. He stood and grabbed my hand. “Come on. Karaoke is upstairs.”

“Is this a long-running ‘family’ thing where you have to humiliate yourself on a regular basis?” I demanded.

“Nope. It’s a matter of honor. I said I’d do it, and I’m doing it.”

Up on the second floor, I scanned the empty, dark space. “At least there’s no one up here.”

Just then, Simone yelled, “I locked the front door, JB. But prepare yourself because we’re all coming up there.”

He muttered, “Awesome.”

I slapped my hands on his chest. “What is going on? For real.”

“A guy downstairs recognized me. Or thought he did. With some fast thinking, we avoided a situation.” His eyes clouded. “Celebrity . . . it’s part of my life. I get it. But it’s not part of yours. It’s not part of Simone’s. Ash and Nolan are used to it, but this bar is a new venture for them. Doesn’t appear I’ll be able to make this place my new secret hangout.”

“I hate this for you.”

“It is what it is, Ro. And what it is tonight, is me doing my penance and shutting my cousins up.” He grinned. “There’s like eight people down there. Plus the four of us? I’m getting off easy if there are only a dozen witnesses. The rest of my family would video me for blackmail material.”

“Why do you trust that none of these strangers will secretly tape you and this performance will hit social media tomorrow?”

He scratched his neck. “Faith, maybe? Nolan said Simone guaranteed privacy and she personally vouched for all the regulars.”

“Too bad Ash bailed on you.”

“Ash is here. He just left to move my car.” Jensen sighed. “That part of public life sucks ass. Some reporter told people what I drive. Fans see my Corvette and it’s game over for me. Which means I don’t drive it as much as I want to.”

“Poor baby.” I patted his chest. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have plunked down so much cash for a screaming-ass-yellow ZR1.”

“It’s gold, not yellow,” he corrected. “Vikings gold, to be accurate. And the interior is Vikings purple. But I didn’t go for the personalized license plate . . . so there is that.”

“My bad. That totally renders you—and the car—incognito.”

Jensen hooked his arm around my waist, hauled me close and pressed a quick kiss on my lips.

Or maybe he’d meant it to be a quick kiss. But neither of us moved away.

His hand slid down to cup my ass and he brushed his lips across my ear. “You look beautiful tonight. Have I said that?”

“Yes.” I nuzzled my cheek against his. “But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

“You’re beautiful every night, Rowan.” Jensen’s lips found mine. There was nothing sweet and fast about this kiss. Nothing tentative about it, but he took his time exploring my mouth and my reactions. His fingers stroked the curve of my ass with such deliberate sensuality that my knees went a little weak. When I didn’t bat his hand away, the next thing I knew, both hands were caressing my butt. Squeezing and teasing and rocking my pelvis against his so I could feel how I affected him.

The heat generated between us sent my nerve endings into overdrive. I tingled from head to toe. My heart raced and I’d never experienced such a sense of urgency. The only thing that would calm the growing wildness inside me was more of his confident caresses, more mouth to skin contact, more . . . everything.

The stairs creaked, and voices echoed up to us.

Keeping me sheltered by his body, he spun me around and walked us backward. His eyes held such intensity my belly swooped. “Can we get out of here as soon as I’m done with this?”

“Please.”

He parked me at a table and dropped a firm kiss on my lips.

Ash and Nolan joined us. They trash-talked him until Jensen walked up to the DJ station.

Simone’s regular customers sat on the far side of the bar.

Jensen returned after he made his song selection.

Nolan handed him a bottle of water. “Thought you might need to clear the frog out of your throat, Kermit.”

“I’d skip trying out for open mike night at the comedy club, Nolan.”

Ash snickered.

Jensen held out his hand. “Gimme my damn keys.”

Simone had the microphone and she said, “JB, come on up. You’re the next contestant on Name That Karaoke Tune. And please, no help from the audience.”

My stomach knotted when Jensen lumbered up to the front like his feet were encased in concrete. He fussed with the microphone, keeping his head down. I was tempted to race up, snatch the mike from his hands and tell him he had nothing to prove to his cousins.

As Jensen adjusted his ball cap and waited for the DJ to cue the music, I’d regretted every comment I’d cracked about his lack of experience in the arts.

There were four beats and the song kicked in.

At first, I thought the DJ had forgotten to mute the vocals because the sound coming out of the speakers . . . sounded exactly like the recording.

Exactly.

My jaw dropped when I realized that was Jensen belting out “Rich Girl” like he was auditioning for Hall and Oates.

Holy shit.

Jensen Lund could sing. Really sing. Like a musical-theater-major kind of sing.

Totally unexpected song choice, but he had the range for it.

Immediately I jumped to my feet and started whistling and clapping.

Behind me, Nolan said my name, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off Jensen for a second to turn around to see what he wanted.

“Red Hot!”

I spun around. “What?”

“We know you’re a cheerleader. Park it. And no herkeys, for god’s sake. I can’t see my cousin making an idiot out of me.”

“Sorry.” I scooted my chair off to the side.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Nolan peeling bills from his money clip and muttering as he stacked them on the table in front of a smug-looking Ash. I raised an eyebrow at him.

Ash grinned. “Nolan bet me a lot of money that Jensen wouldn’t take the karaoke challenge, but he did. Then he bet me a lot more money Jens would suck at it. Obviously, Jens doesn’t suck.”

“Did you know he could sing like this?”

“No comment.”

“Come on. You knew. How?”

“In high school Dallas was having issues with some mean girls calling her a ‘rich bitch.’ Jens got wind of it through Annika and he set up a karaoke machine at my parents’ house. He took Dallas to task, told her to own it and be proud of all our family had done. Then he challenged her to sing ‘Rich Girl’ at the school talent show. So I heard him sing it a few times as he helped her get ready for it.”

“Then you default, fucker, if you knew he could sing,” Nolan said, trying to take the money back.

I let them bicker and refocused on Jensen. He was completely into the music, not paying attention to us at all. So when he finished and saw me on my feet cheering for him, he smiled shyly. His face turned a little red when others in the bar started to chant “Encore, encore!”

Even Simone wolf-whistled.

He nodded at the DJ, who had the next tune already lined up. I didn’t recognize “Rock Me Gently” but it had a very 1970s, Neil Diamond vibe to it. I wondered how Jens knew the song and remembered him talking about his parents’ eclectic musical tastes. But at that point how he knew it didn’t matter; I was fully under the spell of Jensen Lund’s voice. The smooth style with a rock edge just . . . fit him.

I cheered louder for the second song than I had the first.

So did the crowd.

As awkward as he initially appeared, now the man looked as if he owned that stage.

He’d suckered me and his cousins big-time.

I could hardly believe he picked “Gettin’ You Home” by Chris Young as his next song. How had he known it was my favorite?

Of course. Calder.

As I watched him moving side to side, giving his performance his all, the words he sang to me hit me hard. The longing in that sexy growl promising the ultimate sexual satisfaction. I nearly had a mini-O right there, with Jensen’s mesmerizing eyes staring into mine as if I were the only woman in the room. Heck, as if I were the only woman in the world.

After he finished the song, he took a half-assed bow and started toward the table. Slowly. Never taking his eyes off mine.

I couldn’t wait for him to act on that wicked, sexy, dirty aura vibrating off him.

When Jensen reached us, Ash said, “Quite a performance there, cuz.”

“Thanks.” Still keeping his gaze locked onto me, he dug his hand into his front pocket, pulled out some folded bills and tossed them on the table. “Great hanging out with you guys, but we’ve gotta go.”

I didn’t question him—neither did his cousins. He held out his hand to me and I took it.

Then we were booking it out of the bar at breakneck speed.

Once we reached his car, Jensen slowed down. He turned and gifted me with a sweet kiss. A brush of lips, a soft flick of his tongue. Not the openmouthed hunger he’d shown me in the bar.

“Rowan,” he murmured against the corner of my mouth. “Need you naked in my bed. All night.”

“You can have me naked on the couch, against the wall and in the kitchen too.”

He devoured me.

Hands on my ass. The lower half of his body grinding against mine in the way that broadcast he’d rock my world when we were finally skin to skin.

When we paused to catch our breath, he said, “Let’s go before I lose what little willpower I have left and get even more reckless.”

I’d forgotten I was playing grab-ass in public with The Rocket and it’d be newsworthy if the press caught us lip-locked and dry-humping in the parking lot of a dive bar. He’d already dodged one bullet tonight. “Sorry.”

He tipped my head back to stare into my eyes. “What?”

“I forgot.” I ran my fingers down that infamous chiseled jawline. “In the weeks we’ve spent together I’ve forgotten you’re this super athlete with celebrity status and a major media presence. Now I think of you as just a normal guy who lives across the hall from me.” I think of you as mine.

“Saying sweet shit like that will get you fucked right where you stand.”

I blinked at him. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m relieved.” He moved his lips to my ear and whispered, “Get. In.”

On the car ride home, Jensen’s hand rested on my thigh when it wasn’t on the stick shift. Every time I took a breath inside the tightly enclosed space, the scent of his cologne filled my lungs. At every stoplight he curled his hand around the side of my face, bringing my mouth to his for another hot and hungry kiss.

At every stoplight.

Jensen didn’t talk. In another circumstance I might’ve been worried I’d said or done something wrong. But his silence indicated he was as focused on what came next as I was.

The complex gate came into view. Jensen paused long enough for the digital reader to register the bar code in his window, and the gate opened.

Immediately after he helped me out of the car, he framed my face in his hands. He wore the oddest look.

“What?”

“Have you changed your mind about tonight?”

“No. Why? Have you?”

“No.” He traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “We’ve lost some momentum.”

“How do you plan to get it back?”

“I’m more of a ‘show’ guy than a ‘tell’ guy.”

“So show me.”

Jensen probably would’ve forced me to sprint if I hadn’t been wearing heels. The man was too damn impatient to wait for the elevator, so we raced up the stairs.

I experienced a surreal moment as we started down the hallway . . . as if the length had expanded, like looking into an infinity mirror until you couldn’t see the end. So it seemed to take an eternity before we reached Jensen’s apartment.

Guilt pricked my conscience when I glanced at my apartment door. I hadn’t thought about Calder much at all in the past few hours. What kind of mother did that make me?

“Stop,” Jensen said directly into my ear. “You’re allowed a night of fun. You’re a great mom, but that’s not all you are. You are crazy, sexy hot, baby.”

He crowded me against the door. As he kissed the side of my neck, his left hand followed the contour of my body from the outside of my thigh, to my hip, up to my ribs and over to my breast.

“I need you,” he growled in my ear, sending goose bumps cascading across every inch of my skin. His keys jangled as he opened the door and we nearly fell inside.

Then we were all over each other.

We kissed crazily as he walked us backward out of the entryway.

He didn’t even release my mouth when I kicked off my high heels.

Still kissing as my back met the wall in the living room and my purse hit the floor.

I’d never known what it was like to be wanted—or to want—this desperately.

His kisses sizzled on my skin like drops of water on a woodstove.

I hissed, “Yes,” as if I were literally letting off steam from the heat building between us.

His foray into licking, sucking and nibbling on my neck didn’t last long. He returned to my mouth, teasing me with a feathery brush of his damp lips over every line, divot and curve of my lips. He systematically destroyed everything I’ve ever known about kissing.

There were kisses.

And there was the way Jensen Lund kissed.

I reached for him blindly, desperate to touch any part of him.

Next thing I knew, he held both my wrists together in one hand, behind my back.

His mouth was on my ear. “Am I doing something you don’t like?”

“No!”

“Then keep your hands out of my way.”

“But—”

He shut me up with another brain-scrambling kiss as he unhooked the halter straps of my dress, letting the silky material brush over every inch of my skin. His callused fingers followed the satin edges of my strapless bra to the back and he undid the clasp.

My bra fell away.

Big, hot hard palms covered my chest. His rough skin stroked the softness of mine as he cupped one breast in each hand, letting his thumbs sweep across my nipples as lightly as a whisper. Over and over until I moaned with frustration and broke the kiss.

His masculine, slightly mean chuckle vibrated against my throat.

I whispered his name and a soft please.

Jensen’s thin thread of control wavered. Groaning, he hoisted me higher against the wall, kissing my breasts as thoroughly as he had my mouth. Muttering unintelligible things into my cleavage.

I squirmed and arched and went a little wild.

That turned him wild.

He quickly yanked the bottom of my dress up to my waist. When his fingers connected with my bare backside, he froze. Another growling groan. His breath came hard and fast against my swollen nipples. “If I’d known you were wearing a thong under this dress we never would’ve gone to that damn bar.”

“Then I wouldn’t know how well you can sing.”

I felt him smile against my breast and then his mouth meandered back up, zigzagging sideways to scatter hot, wet kisses from the ball of my shoulder up to the hollow of my ear. “I wanna make you sing.” He traced the outer shell of my ear with the very tip of his tongue. “Actually, I want to make you scream.”

Oh god. I’d never survive this. Jensen Lund was way too much man for me to handle. I was already quaking like a damn leaf in a windstorm and we weren’t even fully naked yet.

“Rowan,” he said sharply.

“You give me chills when you say my name all growly like that.”

He curled his left hand around my hip and trailed the tips of his fingers up the inside of my thigh as he continued to kiss and nuzzle my neck.

My knees literally started to knock.

Jensen chuckled. “You know what’ll stop that?”

“I don’t want anything to stop it, Jensen. I want more.”

“Spread. Your. Legs.”

I had no idea that a steely command delivered in a whisper could be so sexy.

I had no idea I’d just . . . obey.

I had no idea he’d lose his cool when he felt how hot and wet I was between my legs.

Jensen took my mouth in a fierce kiss. As ruthless as his mouth was, his fingers were gentle as he started to stroke me, right over the lace of my thong.

With his determination and skill it’d take very little to finish me off. But no way was I stopping this crazy rocket ride and asking him to slow down. I’d enjoy every blasted second of it.

When the fuse inside me finally blew, I had to rip my mouth away from his so I could breathe through the pulsating vibrations that had me shuddering in his arms.

Jensen kissed my neck, maintaining the perfect rhythm until I recovered.

I swallowed hard—evidently gasping from an incredible climax left your mouth dry. Who knew? Not me, as I’d never experienced that before.

I shook my head to clear the fuzz and buzz.

Then Jensen’s cocky smile landed on my lips. He was back to rebuilding the momentum and that buzz of awareness between us.

I felt the power of him all the way to the soles of my feet. A persistent vibration.

Wait a second. That buzzing wasn’t just my body’s reaction to him. My phone was in my purse. Buzzing on the floor by my feet.

I had to tear my mouth away from his again. “Jensen.”

“Bring those lips back here. I’m not even close to done with them,” he said on a husky whisper.

“Hold on for a second. My phone is buzzing.”

Jensen immediately released me to the floor.

I pulled my cell out and my heart jumped into my throat. The caller ID said GABRIEL. Nicolai’s dad. “Gabriel? Is everything all right?”

“I hate to call you, Rowan, but Calder says his tummy hurts. He said he feels like he could throw up.”

“Has he?”

“No, but I wasn’t sure what he could take for it, so I thought I’d better see what you want to do.”

I stood. “I’ll just come and get him. I’ll be there in like five.”

“I think that’s for the best. He looks pretty pale.”

My stomach roiled. “Thanks, Gabriel.” I hung up and started toward the door, my mind focused on getting to my son as fast as possible.

“Whoa.” Jensen stepped in front of me. “What’s going on with Calder?”

“He’s sick, so I have to go get him.”

“Of course you do, sweetheart, but not looking like that.”

I glanced down. The upper half of my dress was bunched around my waist. My bra—no idea where the hell that had gone. But the fact of the matter was, my boobs were hanging out as was my ass. “Omigod.”

“Here. Let me.” Jensen was as adept at getting me back into my clothes as he’d been getting me out of them. Then he tilted my head back and smoothed his hands over my hair. “Better.”

“Thank you.” I looked down to hide my face in the guise of searching for my shoes. “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted . . .” I swallowed the tears that clogged my throat from worry for my child and frustration that I had to leave it like this with Jensen. “I’m sorry. You’re probably mad—”

“Stop.” He invaded my space, his hands cradling my face as he forced me to look at him. “I know we have to go, so we can talk about it later, but don’t think for one second I’m pissed off at you because your son got sick.” He kissed me quickly, but tenderly. “You need to grab other shoes, or will you be all right walking barefoot?”

My brain had gotten stuck on we. “Jens, you don’t have to—”

“Help you? Wrong. I’m here, so suck it up and let’s go.” After another quick kiss he held the door open for me and as soon as we were in the hallway, he reached for my hand.

In that moment I knew I was on dangerous ground with him.

But I couldn’t think about that now.

He squeezed my fingers and said, “Breathe, mama. You won’t do him any good if you pass out before we get there.”

I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. Some of my lightheadedness disappeared.

The sidewalk was cool beneath my feet as we crossed to the next building. Our key card only worked for our building, so I had to use the buzzer. By the time we reached the apartment on the second floor, Gabriel waited for us in the doorway. “Sorry about this. Gejel is sitting with him on the couch. I don’t think it’s anything he ate, since we all had the same thing and none of us are sick.”

“I’m sure it’s not food-related. He just gets overly excited sometimes and this happens.”

Gabriel finally looked at the big man standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. “Hey, Jensen. Good to see you. Wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Me too.”

I’d barely made it through the door when Calder launched himself at me. “Mommy, my tummy hurts.”

“I know, baby.” I tried not to squeeze him too tightly. “We’ll get you home.”

“But I don’t wanna go! Nicolai probably won’t ever want me to have a sleepover again,” he said between hiccupping sobs.

Nicolai’s mom said, “That’s not true. Nico had a blast with you tonight. He’s sad you’re sick. But we want you to get better so you can come over again soon, okay?”

Calder nodded. Then he noticed Jensen.

Jensen crouched down. “Hey, little dude. You ready to go?”

He walked over and set his head on Jensen’s shoulder. “I don’t feel too good.”

“I heard. Hang on.” Then Jensen picked my son up as if he carted him around all the time.

Calder snuggled into him.

“Here’s his stuff,” Gejel said.

I grabbed the backpack and the duffel bag. Good thing I had Jensen’s help; I couldn’t have carried all of this and Calder and opened all the doors. “Thanks for having him over,” I said to Nicolai’s parents.

In the hallway, I said, “Do you want me to carry him?”

He pierced me with that “Are you serious?” dark look as his answer.

I had walked ahead with the key card to open the door to our building when I heard retching. I whirled around to see vomit splattering on the pavement behind Jensen. My gaze moved from my son’s back as he heaved over Jensen’s shoulder, to Jensen’s face—or rather his profile, as his focus was on Calder.

“Set him down.”

“In a second.” Jensen rubbed Calder’s back. He murmured, “You okay?”

Calder threw up again.

I stomped closer. “Give him to me.”

Very calmly, Jensen said, “I’ve got him. I think it’d be best if one of us wasn’t covered in it.”

Oh no. “He . . . it . . . got you?”

“Down the back of my shirt and my legs.”

Now I felt ill.

Calder heaved again.

Jensen kept running his hand up and down Calder’s back, murmuring to him.

And Calder didn’t fight to get down.

I stood by, feeling helpless.

Several long minutes passed with no additional heaving.

Jensen looked at me and said, “We’re good to go.”

I unlocked the building door and held it open. Jensen chose the stairs and I followed behind him, wanting to see how covered he was.

Oh yeah. His back and his pants were a mess.

When we reached my apartment, Jensen said, “Where do you want him?”

“Bathroom.”

He lowered him to the floor, by the toilet. Then he stepped back. “I’m going to my place for a quick shower and change of clothes. Leave your door unlocked, so I can come back.”

I’d crouched next to Calder, who’d closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the bathtub. “That’s okay. You’ve already gone above and beyond—”

“I’m coming back,” he repeated. “Don’t shut me out. Please.”

This man. I couldn’t wrap my head around this side of him. He continually surprised me. “Okay.”

He sent me a relieved look, and then he left the bathroom.

Calder stirred and blinked at me groggily. “Mommy?”

“I’m here. How’s your tummy?”

“It hurts. It’s all jumpy inside.”

Poor baby. I pressed my hand to his forehead. Clammy, but not overly hot. I pushed his bangs out of his eyes. “What can I get for you?”

“Gonna be—”

I had him over the toilet before he finished the sentence.

He’d hit the dry-heave stage. Hopefully that meant his stomach was about to settle down. I managed to get him undressed. Then I wet a washcloth and sat him on the edge of the tub and gently wiped him down.

The floor creaked and I glanced over my shoulder to see a freshly showered Jensen leaning against the doorjamb. “What do you need?”

Calder blinked at him with confusion.

I said, “Clean pajamas would be good. There’s some on top of Calder’s dresser.”

“I don’t wanna wear pajamas. I’m hot,” Calder said crossly, and shivered.

“How about just a T-shirt?” Jensen said diplomatically.

“SpongeBob,” Calder insisted.

“On it.”

The T-shirt lasted only a few moments before Calder started throwing up again.

This episode had gone beyond excitement to some kind of stomach bug. I rummaged in the medicine chest but didn’t see any of my usual over-the-counter fixes. Pepto-Bismol always worked and Calder willingly took it, which was half the battle.

“Mommy, I want to lay down. The light is bright and it’s hurting my eyes.”

“I can cover your eyes with a washcloth, but until I’m sure you won’t get sick in your bed, we’ll have to stay in the bathroom.”

Calder dropped to the floor and curled himself around me. His body was hot and it hadn’t felt that way twenty minutes ago. Dammit. I should’ve grabbed the thermometer.

Jensen said, “What do you need?”

“There’s a thermometer on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet.”

“This?”

“No. Other side. That’s it.” He handed it to me. “Thank you.” I ran the thermometer across Calder’s forehead. Twice. Both readings said one hundred and one degrees.

Shoot. I knew I was out of children’s pain reliever too because it was on my list of things to pick up. And of course, Calder needed it right now.

“Ro. Sweetheart. Talk to me. Tell me what I can do.”

“I need . . .” I hated asking for help. Hated it.

Jensen lowered to his haunches next to me until I had no choice but to look at him. “Ask me.”

“Could you go to a twenty-four-hour drugstore and pick up Pepto-Bismol and kids’ Tylenol? I’m out of both.”

“No problem. Anything else?”

“Maybe some crackers and ginger ale?”

“On it.” He stood. He paused for a moment and pointed to my purse on the floor next to me. “Keep your phone close. I’ll text you options so I don’t get the wrong things.”

I almost told him whatever he got would be fine, but that wasn’t true. I had specific products in mind and he was astute to know I wouldn’t be satisfied with whatever. “Let me give you some cash.”

“Worry about that later. It’ll probably take at least half an hour.”

“Thank you.” I shifted Calder on my lap—he’d fallen asleep—and opted to close my eyes for a moment.

Ten minutes later my phone buzzed with images of the massive amounts of choices for kids’ pain relievers. I zoomed in on the one I wanted, screen-captured it and texted it back to him. Repeat with the Pepto-Bismol.

Calder had crashed completely and his body was hot, even though he wore only his underpants. He wasn’t a heavy kid, but he was solid. Both my leg and my arm had fallen asleep. But he’d finally settled and I’d have to wake him up soon enough when Jensen returned.

It’d probably be the last time he’d be here. Yanked up short on the promise of hot sexy times and then barfed on by a six-year-old and turned into a middle-of-the-night errand boy. I was surprised The Rocket hadn’t sprinted away.

Yeah, it was some fun getting mixed up with me.

I pressed my lips to the crown of Calder’s head, taking comfort in the fact that I was doing the right thing, the best thing, the most important thing in the world—raising a well-adjusted, healthy, kind, loving, thoughtful human being. I’d always been happy—content even—with it being just me and my son growing together, going through the day-to-day ups and downs of life.

I knew all this in my heart, in my gut, in my mother’s soul, so why did I have a hollow feeling I couldn’t shake? I worried I’d started to attach myself to the wrong person, in the wrong place. Wasn’t Jensen more shifting sand than stable ground?

You’ve always been an island. You’ve felt the seismic shift of the plates beneath the surface of your life that are loosening the moorings since the moment you met him. Things change. You can fight against nature or you can accept that some things are out of your control.

The door to my apartment clicked, startling me from the odd direction my thoughts had taken.

Jensen set the meds on the bathroom counter. “Has he been sick again?”

“No. He fell asleep right after you left.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry it took longer than expected.”

“It was probably good for him to sleep.”

“Do you have to wake him up? Or can you just put him in bed?”

I brushed my hand over Calder’s head. “He’s got a fever, so he has to take the Tylenol.”

“Will he be able to keep that down?”

“Time to find out.” I shifted, dislodging him from his comfy spot curled into me.

He grumbled and tried to burrow back in.

“Hey, sweetie. I need you to take some medicine. It’s the grape kind.”

Jensen handed it to me.

Calder blinked a few times and sat up. I held the cup to him and he downed the purple liquid in two drinks. “I’ll give you a sip of water. But just a sip until I know you can keep the medicine down, okay?”

He nodded.

So we waited for his stomach to react. Jensen leaning on the doorjamb, Calder and me on the floor.

My son half dozed again. It’d been an hour since he’d thrown up, so I thought maybe we could skip the pink stuff and go straight to bed.

“Calder. Baby, you have to move so Mommy can get up.”

“I’ve got him,” Jensen said. He reached down and plucked him up.

I stood, but my leg buckled from being asleep and I caught myself on the edge of the counter.

Jensen turned around. “You all right?”

“I’m fine. Just pins and needles.”

Calder’s big eyes stayed on me as if he was confused about what was going on. So I shuffled along behind them.

I didn’t bother with the light in Calder’s room. As soon as Jensen set him on the bed, I sat on the edge. Mostly to fuss with him: pull the sheet up, press my cool hands to his overheated face. “How’s your tummy?”

He struggled to sit up and I wished I’d grabbed a bucket. “Mommy. Mr. Fuzzles. I forgot him at Nicolai’s. You have to go get him! I can’t sleep without him and he’s probably scared that I don’t want him anymore because I just left him there!”

“Ssh. Honey. Mr. Fuzzles is in your backpack. I’ll grab him as soon as you lie back.”

“I’ll get Mr. Fuzzles,” Jensen said behind me. “It’s a stuffed . . . ?”

“Orangutan. The backpack is on the dining room table.”

Even in his panicked state, Calder could barely keep his eyes open.

“You want crackers? Or ginger ale for your tummy?”

He shook his head. His entire body sagged with relief when he had Mr. Fuzzles. Crushing him to his chest, he turned and closed his eyes.

I remained there until I knew he’d fallen asleep. I left the door open and headed into the living room. Jensen had been so quiet I suspected he’d left. But there he was, brooding out the sliding glass door. He turned to face me, his expression unreadable.

“He’s asleep?”

“Finally.” I ran my hand through my hair and didn’t know what else to say. I could feel Jensen staring at me.

The least you can do is thank the man.

“So, uh, thanks for sticking around and helping tonight. Especially after Calder got sick on you. If your clothes are ruined I’ll replace them, just let me know how much they cost. And how much do I owe you for the—”

“Would you stop?”

I didn’t meet his gaze until his shadow fell across me.

“Come here,” he said gruffly.

“Jensen, you don’t—”

“Shut up and let me hold you. You’re shaking.” He wrapped me in his arms.

That felt good. He felt good. Solid. Comforting. I closed my eyes and sank into him.

After a bit, I said, “I’m sorry. I doubt you saw the night ending this way.”

“I don’t assume anything, Rowan.”

“Oh.” Not what I’d expected.

Maybe you should change your expectations when it comes to this man, since he’s exceeded all of them.

“You settled enough to listen to me?”

That caused me to bristle.

His mouth brushed my ear. “Why did that simple question get your back up?”

“Because it’s not a simple question. It sounded accusatory.”

“Maybe it was. So I’ll lay it out. You pissed me off tonight, Coach.”

My back went even more rigid.

“I wasn’t pissed because your son got sick. I’m pissed that you think so little of me. You assumed because we were interrupted that I’d be mad. That I care about sex—or lack of it—more than your son’s well-being and your peace of mind.”

I didn’t deny it; I had thought that.

“Why did you assume I’d kick you out of my apartment and leave you to deal with everything on your own?”

I tried to squirm away but his hold tightened.

“See? When push comes to shove . . . you shove. If I hadn’t been around to help you tonight, I’ve no doubt you would’ve done it all yourself.”

“How would that have been different than any other night in my life? It’s no reflection on you, Jensen, that I’m resistant to accepting help. I’ve never been in this situation before. Where I’m . . . on a date or hookup or whatever it was and I get a call that my son is sick. I don’t date. Because of exactly what happened tonight! Calder getting sick was the universe reminding me I am a single mother and I don’t have the luxury of going out and acting as if I don’t have a responsibility in the world.” I managed to hold it together—just barely.

“So I’m just a hookup? You’d bang me, get it out of your system and assume things would go back to the way they were between us before?” he demanded softly.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. It was a whirlwind. A night of fun at a funky bar. And afterward, the way you touched me . . . the way you wanted me. For a little while I got to have the fantasy. So thank you. But this is the reality of who I am.”

“You think I don’t know that about you?”

“Knowing it and experiencing it are two different things.” I kept my gaze aimed at his chest. “Calder comes first for me. Every single time.”

“As he should.”

“But?”

Jensen nudged my chin up to look into my eyes. “No buts. Your dedication to being there for your son will never be an arguable point for me.”

“Then what are we arguing about?”

“Nothing. I had to force you to take my help tonight. All I’m asking is, next time? Don’t fight me on it. Save us both the time and wasted energy and accept it.”

I blinked at him. “There’ll be a next time?”

“Well, if I have any say in it . . . yes.”

My eyes searched his. “Why aren’t you running the other direction?”

He laughed. “I have no fucking idea.”

I laughed too. At least he was honest.

“Do you want me to go?”

Did I? I wasn’t naive. Things had changed between us tonight, but I wasn’t ready to embrace all of it. Maybe that was the problem. I wanted to compartmentalize everything just like my brother did. I would’ve thrown myself into a wild night of sex with Jensen, but I balked at the idea of him falling asleep and waking up with me in my bed in front of my son. That wasn’t fair. Maybe I had to send him away until I could accept all of what was growing between us and not just the easy, obvious parts.

“Rowan. Sweetheart, that wasn’t a trick question.”

“I know. I just . . .”

“I’ll go. Do me a favor. Shut down that hamster wheel in your head. Whatever is spinning in there will keep.” He pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Try and get some rest. If you need anything, call me or text me. I’ll have my phone right next to me.” Then he gave me a little head-butt. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“I won’t be. I promise.”

Jensen turned toward the door. But then he turned back. “Oh. One more thing.”

“What?”

“This.” He slanted his mouth over mine and brought me flush against his body. He kissed me with all the fire and finesse he’d shown me earlier, but this kiss had a sharper edge to it. As if to remind me that he could be helpful, thoughtful Jensen, but he was also one hundred thousand percent a hot, hungry male who would bide his time, but in the end, he would have me.

“Lock the door behind me,” he murmured against my mouth when we came up for air.

Then he was gone.