Camden was still asleep when I woke up, wrapped around him like I had been every morning since I’d started sleeping in his bed.

He was so freaking beautiful. There wasn’t anything about him that I wasn’t completely obsessed with.

Except maybe the fact that he’d locked me in our bedroom and got me fired behind my back…I was still debating how I felt about that.

“Who’s stalking who now, baby girl?” he said in a growly, sleepy voice before his eyes flicked open, revealing those tornado-green eyes that I loved so much. My breath caught, because I’d never get used to what I saw when I looked in them. Love and devotion and obsession…everything I wanted from him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked carefully, and I continued to stare at him as I considered his question.

Shifting, I realized that my…ass was a little sore. My eyes widened.

Oh, that hadn’t been a dream!

Blushing, I sighed. “Are you asking how my body is feeling…or my heart?”

He huffed and pushed some hair out of his face, his bulging bicep catching my eye as he moved.

I was definitely on the horny side this morning, not the best state of being for the important conversation we needed to have.

“I’m always worried about both, baby girl,” he said.

I closed my eyes and fell back on the pillow with a huff. “Are you even sorry?”

Now it was his turn to huff. He took so long to answer that I finally glanced over at him.

He was studying me like I was a puzzle he was desperate to figure out. “No,” he finally said.

Not shocking me at all.

“And I’d do it again, and again, and again. As long as it got you here in my bed like this.”

I considered that statement. It made me feel good. Really good. I’d never been wanted. Ever. So the way Camden James wanted me, it was like heroin—a high I would be desperate for, for the rest of my life.

“Let me ask you a question, baby girl,” Camden said, reaching over to pull me back onto his chest.

“What?” I asked, tracing the tattoos inked across his skin.

“What would you do to get me into your bed like this?”

I blinked, not expecting that question.

The answer came easily, though, like it had been waiting on the tip of my tongue for him to ask.

“Anything,” I answered softly. “Absolutely anything.”

His hands tangled in my hair, and he pulled me toward him for a bruising kiss that seemed to touch my soul.

I broke away so that I could look him in the eyes. “Don’t lock me up again, Camden James.”

“Don’t try to run from me, Anastasia Lennox,” he combated easily.

I wrinkled my nose. “Deal,” I said, returning to his lips for another perfect kiss.

Only later did I realize he’d never made the same promise back.

And only later did I realize that I really didn’t care.

Camden

“She’s beautiful,” Anastasia cried as she lifted Isabella from Olivia’s arms. Her lower lip was quivering adorably as she cooed and brought the baby to her chest.

Walker hadn’t allowed me to hold his baby. He’d muttered something about radiuses and ten feet, and then Olivia had offered the baby to Anastasia.

“Mind her head,” Walker said frantically, even though I was pretty sure Anastasia had it perfectly covered. She was a natural, in fact.

Olivia was staring at her baby in awe, like she’d never seen something so beautiful in her entire life.

Suddenly, Olivia burst into tears. Walker froze, a frantic look on his face as his gaze darted between his baby and his wife, like he wasn’t sure what to do.

He practically lunged toward Anastasia. “I need my baby back,” he said in a crazy person voice.

“It’s okay,” Olivia cried, still sobbing and just staring at her baby. “I just love her so much.”

Anastasia had a goofy grin on her face as she reluctantly handed the baby back. My hands twitched when I saw Walker’s hand brush hers, the insane urge to cut his fingers off flashing through my mind for a minute.

That was…weird.

I had locked Anastasia in a room last night, so maybe it wasn’t that weird.

Anastasia looked good with that baby, though, food for thought for another day. Logan might call me a grandpappy, but the only “Daddy” I wanted to be at the moment…was hers.

Walker slid the baby back into Olivia’s arms, and I watched as she pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. It felt like we were intruding on a sacred moment as I watched the three of them together. Olivia had come from a really tough childhood, she and Anastasia could probably tell stories for days—all of them equally awful.

Olivia glanced up at Anastasia with glossy eyes. “I can’t believe she’s really here.”

Anastasia nodded, her own eyes growing shiny.

Olivia started singing to the baby then, and I pulled Anastasia into my chest as she started to weep too.

Walker and I exchanged looks, like what the fuck were we supposed to do?

Later, as we were walking through the parking lot, Anastasia was softly humming the song Olivia had been singing.

I smiled down at her, glancing up to make sure we were going in the direction the truck was parked, and then I stiffened.

Michael was standing about a hundred feet away, a feral grin on his face.

I gave him one back and hoped he saw the promise in my gaze. Whatever he saw was at least enough for his smile to fade and for him to start walking away.

I wasn’t going to fuck him up in a hospital parking lot though. What I had planned for him needed to be done in private, where I wouldn’t make the headlines. I couldn’t exactly take care of Anastasia from jail.

Anastasia hadn’t noticed him, and I preferred that.

Michael was living on borrowed time.

He just didn’t know it yet.

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