And sweet.

He loves me.

“Thanks for painting them,” I murmur.

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a grin. “It wasn’t so hard.”

“Maybe I’ll let you paint them from now on,” I wink at him and he chuckles, sending shivers through me. I love his voice. I love making him laugh.

“I think I’ll just send you to the spa with Jules and Nat.”

“You’re not sending me…”

“Shut up, Megan.” He pulls me into his lap, careful not to mess up my fresh paint, and kisses me hard, until we’re both breathless. “Just let me spoil you a little, okay?”

“You do spoil me.”

He brushes a strand of hair off my cheek and kisses my forehead, then settles me against him so we can finish the football game.

“Get used to it,” he whispers.

* * *

“How was vacation?” Jill asks as she leans on the counter next to me where I’m charting and passes me a Starbucks.

“Fantastic,” I reply with a smug grin.

“I hate you. You know that, right?”

“You love me.” I laugh at her and give her a hug. “It’s good to be back. Thanks for this.”

It’s Tuesday, and we are working the morning shift.

“How’s your man?”

“Good. Working.” I shrug and dive back into my chart.

“How long does he work anyway? I know nothing about what those guys do during the week.”

“Well, it varies. Yesterday they trained in the morning and then watched films and had meetings the rest of the day. He didn’t get home until about eight last night.”

“Wow, long days.”

“Yeah, it’ll be the same today. They’re working extra hard since they all took last week off.”

“Cool.” She smiles encouragingly.

The phone at my elbow rings, and I pick it up. “Pediatric Oncology, this is Megan.”

“Hey, Meg this is Lyle in security. Just wanted to give you the heads up that Mr. Montgomery is on his way up to you.”

I frown and turn toward the elevators as I hear them ding and see Will walk off, grinning from ear to ear, heading straight for me.

“Thanks, Lyle.” I hang up and cross to him. “What’s up?”

He just hugs me, pulling me off my feet and spins me in a circle, and then kisses me like crazy, in front of everyone.

Every. One.

“Uh, Will, I’m working.” I laugh and pull back, confused, but pleased with how excited he looks. “What is going on with you?”

“Stacy had the baby this morning. I just came from there.” He’s so proud.

“Oh! That’s awesome! How are they?”

“Perfect. Stace is tired, but she did great. The baby is tiny and adorable, and Isaac can’t stop staring at him. I’d call him a pussy, but I can’t blame him. The little guy is great.”

“I’m so happy, for all of you.” I run my hands down his chest, but I catch the quick frown between his eyes before it’s gone, replaced by his handsome smile.

“Thank you. So, I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by.”

“I’m so glad you did. I can’t wait to congratulate them.”

“They’ll all be at mom and dad’s on Sunday, but you’re welcome to stop in and see them later today. I think they’ll be in the hospital until Thursday.”

“Okay, I will. For sure. I got them some gifts I can’t wait to give them.”

“You did?” He grins again, delighted with me.

“Of course.” I shrug shyly. “New babies need new things. Plus, you’ll approve of what I got.”

“What is it?”

“Baby football gear. He’ll be all decked out on Sunday to cheer on his uncle Will.”

Will’s eyes go soft and he pulls me to him and kisses me again, softly, brushing his lips over mine, and I don’t care who sees. He buries his fingers in my hair and holds on tight as he devours me with his lips.

He smells good. Musky and clean.

He smells of Will.

“I love you,” he whispers against my lips.

“I know,” I respond, and he smiles again.

“I have to get back to the team for meetings the rest of the day. I’ll see you tonight?” He raises a brow in question and I smile.

“I’ll be there.”

“Great.” He kisses me, one last time, hard, and then turns to walk back to the elevator. “Later.”

“Later.” I wave and watch him disappear into the elevator.

“Oh yeah,” Jill murmurs with humor behind me. “He’s good. Damn, girl.”

I just sigh and nod in agreement. “Yeah, he’s good.”

Chapter Eighteen

Apparently, losing a game makes Will a wee bit grumpy.

Or a lot grumpy.

We’re driving to his parents’ home after the game this morning, and he’s unusually quiet.

I was at the game today, in his private sky box with Nat and Jules and the guys. It was fun. Until the end of the fourth quarter. We were up by three points against Arizona, but in the last two minutes, Will threw an interception, and the guy ran it in for a touchdown.

We lost.

Will was off his game most of the day. I could see it. He just wasn’t himself.

The others went on ahead to the Montgomery’s house and I hung back to wait for Will to give a couple interviews and take a shower. He’d hugged me when he saw me, but he hasn’t said much.

What the hell am I supposed to say?

I don’t know.

So I just reach over and take his hand in mine, link our fingers and kiss his hand, then rest them in my lap.

That earned me a half smile.

He pulls into his parents’ drive, parks and opens the door for me. It’s an unseasonably warm fall day.

“I smell rain,” I say casually.

“I hope not. Grilling in the rain sucks.”

“You live in Seattle. Grilling in the rain is the norm.”

He smirks and leads me around his parents’ house to the back yard, and I gasp. Holy shit, his dad must put in hours and hours each week into this yard. Even in the fall, when most of the flowers have died, and the leaves are turning, it’s a sight to behold with paths and benches and fruit trees.

“This is gorgeous.”

He looks back and grins. There he is.

“Yeah, Dad works hard on it.”

“I can tell.”

“They’re here!” A little girl of about five years old shrieks and jumps up and down. She’s in a Seattle football jersey and jeans, her long raven hair braided down her back. And suddenly her mirror image is standing next to her.