Taste (Take It Off #9)(18)
Author: Cambria Hebert

When I sagged back against Spencer, he left Jack’s room and carried me back into mine.

“I thought you were being fucking murdered in here,” he muttered. “You started screaming, and I almost jumped out of my skin.”

“It felt so real,” I whispered, still seeing the blue eyes of my killer so clearly.

“I know, darlin’,” he said, low, his voice taking on a buttery tone.

Instead of putting me back in bed, he sat down with me in his lap and scooted so he was leaning against the headboard and I was leaning against him.

“Want to tell me about it?” he asked, rubbing my back.

I shuddered. “No.”

“Fair enough,” he rumbled.

I curled into his chest, my body automatically seeking out his shelter. By the time I realized what I’d done, I was already snuggled against him with his arm holding me in place.

After long silent moments, I said, “You can go home, try and catch some sleep if you want. I doubt I will be getting any more sleep tonight.”

He grunted. “Yes, you will.”

“How do you know?”

He used his free arm to reach around behind us. He arched his back a little, then withdrew it. In his hand was a black pistol. His hand gripped it skillfully, his finger just shy of the trigger. “Because this gun says so,” he murmured, laying it on the bed right beside his leg. “If anyone comes close to this house, to you or to Jack, I will fucking shoot them dead.”

“You say the F-word a lot,” I muttered, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

“Yep,” Spence agreed.

I felt sleep slowly reach out to me, pulling me back into its clutches. My body jerked suddenly, protesting the attempt.

Spencer wrapped his other arm around me so he totally encompassed me, and his chin rested on the top of my head. “I got you,” he murmured.

It was all he needed to say…

The next thing I knew, my alarm was chirping at me. I groaned and reached for it, shutting it off and then snuggling back into the pillow.

Another day. The thought drifted through my mind gloomily before I remembered last night.

And Spencer.

I sprang up like a Jack-in-the-box, sending my covers flying, and raced out of my room and into Jack’s.

His room was dim because of the blackout curtains over his window, so I couldn’t see inside his crib until I was right beside it.

It was empty.

My knees almost buckled as I whimpered.

Not again.

No, no, no. Not again.

I raced down the stairs and grabbed my keys by the door. It took me a minute to unlatch all the locks, but when I did, I threw the door open so hard it banged against the wall.

Please, let him be in the car again.

“Elle.” Spencer’s voice stopped me cold. I spun around, ready to tell him about Jack.

But I didn’t have to.

Spencer was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, holding Jack. Both of them were staring at me.

I gave a cry of relief and rushed through the room and scooped Jack out of Spencer’s arms, hugging him tight.

Jack wasn’t impressed. He began to wiggle and squirm, trying to get out of my tight hold.

“I guess I should have woken you,” Spencer said, watching me.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

Jack gave a shout, pulling my attention toward him. “No,” he said, telling me his favorite word. Then he held his arms out to Spencer and leaned toward him.

Shock rippled through me.

He wanted Spencer?

Spencer gave Jack a grin and then glanced at me. “He woke up. I was going to get you, but he didn’t seem to mind me so I brought him downstairs with me while I was making coffee.”

Jack was still trying to get to Spencer so I nodded. Spencer grabbed him and tucked his arm under Jack’s diaper-clad butt and held him up. Jack looked up at Spence with a toothless grin.

“I think I’m in trouble with Mom,” Spencer told my son.

Jack grinned.

He liked him.

Jack liked Spencer.

He was staring up at him like Spencer hung the moon or something. It made this tight knot form in my throat. I always told myself Jack not having a father, or any kind of father figure in his life, was no big deal. I told myself that having my mom and me as caretakers was more than enough and the love we gave him would overshadow the lack of a man in his life.

I always believed that.

Until now.

There was no way I could see Jack and Spencer standing there grinning at each other, rumpled sleep clothes and mussed hair, and not be affected.

I was a horrible mother. My son was going to grow up with a void in his life that could only be filled by a father.

I hated the man who got me pregnant in that moment. Well, okay, I hated him every moment of the day. But right this second, it was way more intense.

How could he walk away from such a beautiful little boy? His dark hair and hazel eyes were practically sinful. And his chubby cheeks and easy grin infected you with nothing but love and warmth.

“Elle?” Spencer said, a frown marring his face.

I cleared my throat. “Sorry,” I muttered. “It just scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you would sleep a little longer. I was going to bring him back upstairs.”

“It’s okay,” I said, still feeling the grip of mom guilt as I strode farther into the kitchen for a mug. I needed coffee.

I took a deep breath of the intense aroma and felt a little bit of release in my already tight muscles. After I poured myself and Spencer a mug, I turned.

Jack was sitting in his booster seat, picking up Cheerios off the table and sticking them into his mouth.

“I hope it’s okay,” Spencer said, sheepish. He grabbed the mug I poured him and took a sip. “He pointed at them.”

“You’re good with kids?” I asked, mildly surprised.

He shrugged. “My sister has a couple little rug rats. Hers all eat Cheerios, too.” Spencer’s voice held a note of fondness when he talked about his family, and it made my stomach do a little flip.

“It’s fine,” I said, still watching Jack shovel in the dry cereal.

I abandoned my coffee to get Jack a sippy full of milk. Once he was drinking it happily, I turned back to Spencer. “You like scrambled eggs?”

“I like anything you’re making.” He ambled over to the coffee pot and refilled his mug. I couldn’t help but notice his feet were bare and his shirt was rumpled. It was sexy as hell.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked, trying to focus on getting out everything I needed for breakfast.