“Well, then who am I to deny little Milo?”
“I figured you’d say that. That little guy seems to have everyone as putty in his hands.”
“That he does. He gets it from his dad,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his broad chest once more.
Chase kisses my forehead. “I’ll run these checks to Dalton. I have one client there and then I’ll head back here to take you home.”
Home.
I love it when he says that.
“Sounds good,” I tell him. His lips find mine in a slow, tantalizing kiss that leaves my body humming. “I’ll be back soon, and then the little man and I will take out our girl.”
Our girl.
Never in a million years did I ever think I’d get all giggly and swoony over hearing Chase Callahan refer to me as his girl. But here I am, falling for the man at a rate faster than I ever expected could happen. And Milo? Well, he’s just the icing on top of the perfect little cupcake.When I step out of the bedroom and head downstairs, I find my dates waiting in the living room. Chase is wearing khaki shorts and a blue button-down shirt that molds perfectly to his physique without being vain or over the top. And Milo? He’s wearing tiny khaki shorts, a white onesie with a black tie printed on the front, and little blue suspenders.
“Oh my God, where did you find these?” I ask, my hands reaching for the little guy and his cuteness. I’m wearing a dark blue wrap dress that clings to my curves and hits just above the knees. I knew the moment I saw it at the store that Chase would love it. I’ve paired it with some tan sandals and big silver hoop earrings, and I must say, the final result is pretty sexy.
Chase exhales. “Second fiddle again,” he mumbles lightheartedly.
When Milo is tucked securely in my arm, I lean up and place a kiss on his dad’s lips. “And you, Mr. Callahan, are looking mighty fine tonight,” I reassure, running my hand up his chest.
Chase practically purrs. “Mighty fine enough to maybe lose those panties later tonight?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.
“Who said I’m wearing any?” I ask with a wink and a smile.
“Christ, I’m not going to make it through the night,” he grumbles, finding my lips once more with his. “You look positively edible.”
I secure Milo in his carrier and turn to my date for the evening. “I’m hoping that could be arranged too.”
He groans, and there’s no mistaking the large bulge in the front of his shorts. “I’m going to have a hard-on all night,” he says, picking up the carrier and the packed diaper bag. Chase has gotten pretty good in these last few days at packing up everything Milo will need for whatever excursion we’re going on.
“No worries,” I tell him, stepping up beside him and running my nails over his chest. “I can help with that later.”
The door slams, startling the baby. “Never mind. We’re not going out,” he says, setting the bag and the carrier on the floor.
I bark out a laugh. “Oh no, you don’t, Mr. Callahan. You promised me a date.”
“That was before I saw you in that dress and decided I’d rather keep you here, enjoying the hell out of stripping it off your body,” he answers, his voice low and husky. The images his words create send heat flooding between my legs.
“As tempting as it is, I don’t think Milo would approve of your changes to his date.”
Chase glances down at the sleeping baby. “You’re probably right. Look at that look of disapproval he’s giving me.”
I look down too, smiling at the peacefully sleeping boy. “Oh, he’d definitely disapprove.”
Chase reaches down and grabs the carrier and bag once more. “Then, let’s go, before my cock can talk me out of this again.” He throws me a wink and escorts me from the house.
We make our way to his truck, hand in hand, and he makes me wait until he has Milo secured in the back seat. Then, he helps me climb into the front, accidentally copping a feel of my ass as we go.
“So where are we going?” I ask as we head out of the cul-de-sac and toward the main road through town.
“Milo says it’s a surprise.”
“A surprise, huh?”
“He’s the boss,” he confirms, flashing me a big smile before returning his eyes to the road.
A few minutes later, he pulls into the parking lot of our local Italian restaurant. “Carlo’s?” I ask as he puts the truck in Park.
“Have you been here?” he asks, a tinge of nervousness in his voice.
“No,” I reply, glancing at the deep red awning and the red and green stained-glass windows in the front.
“Really?”
“Really,” I confirm, unfastening my seat belt. “I’ve always wanted to try it since they opened.” But I’ve been told it’s very expensive, I think to myself, but don’t state it aloud.