Emily giggled and went to rip off the blindfold, but Gavin grabbed her wrists. Lips turned down in a pout, she sighed. “You get off on being a wiseass. I swear you were placed in my world for that very reason.”

“Mmm, I never thought of it like that.” Gavin buried his face in the crook of her neck, his voice seductively low. “Placed on this earth to wiseass your world up.”

“Gavin Christopher Blake, if you don’t let me take off this blindfold, I’m going to do things to your ass no man would appreciate. Got it?”

Gavin let out a deep, throaty laugh, his eyes wide. “You’re turning me on.”

“Oh my God. You seriously—”

“I know. Have lost my mind or seriously have gone crazy.” Gavin nibbled her neck. “Which is it, sweets?”

“Both.”

“Good answer.” He peeled the blindfold from her eyes. “Tell me. Did I lose my mind on this?”

The breath left Emily’s lungs as her eyes swept over the nursery. True to his love of the team, Gavin had turned the once bare room into a Yankees paradise. Not quite overkill, it was tastefully done and could easily thrive well into her son’s teenage years. Emily’s gaze fell upon a single navy blue wall with massive white built-in shelving units. Each held an array of glass-encased signed baseballs, trading cards, and hats. She took in everything from autographed jerseys hanging on cast-iron Yankees emblem hooks, to a real digital scoreboard, to a row of Yankees metal lockers. One wall showcased a floor-to-ceiling black and white scene of the field right out of the early Yankees days. “The House Ruth Built” graced the top of the mural. She swore it was a real photo. Just beyond one of the windows—swathed in long, navy blue drapes—was a soft, brown leather chair with fluffy baseball pillows. A New York City backdrop circular rug covered a good portion of the space. To top it off, he had actual stadium seats in the room. Emily was struck speechless.

“Did I lose my mind?” Gavin whispered, his chin on Emily’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her growing stomach, wishing he could see her face. “Or am I just crazy?”

Falling into the gravity of everything that made Gavin who he was, Emily faced him, her world spinning on an axis of love he provided. So many stolen moments and little things he’d said and done passed through her mind as she stared into his smiling blue eyes. Those thieving blue eyes that’d snatched her breath, heart, and soul the second she saw him. So many words, spoken and unspoken, echoed through her ears. This man, her best friend and lover, who didn’t know if the child she was carrying was his, kept the promise he’d made not so long ago. He already loved her baby, whether or not it was his, because it was part of her. God willing, part of him. Bringing her hands to his dimpled cheeks, she stared at him a beat longer before pushing up on her tiptoes. As her lips melted against his, she wondered how she’d gotten so lucky. Why, out of every woman in the world, did this certified wiseass pick her?

Slowly breaking the kiss, she looked at him, her mind in a daze. “I don’t even know how to thank you, Gavin. You’ve accepted me with every fragile weakness I have, loving me no less than a woman without faults. A woman without fears. Every look, touch, and kiss you’ve given without judgment of any kind. You’ve healed every exposed wound, old scar, and piece of pain I brought into this relationship without expecting anything in return. You’ve shown me what a racing heart feels like, shown me mere thoughts could easily cease with a single kiss. You’ve shown me what it is to feel truly, wholeheartedly, until the end of time loved. How do I thank you for all of this?”

“You do every single day,” he softly answered, stroking her hair.

Emily closed her eyes. “How?” She leaned into the heat of his touch.

“Look at me, Emily.” She opened her eyes, her watery gaze searching his. “Right there, doll. You said every look I’ve given you was without judgment. Well, every look you’ve given me is untouched, pure in all it is for my eyes. You look at me like you’ve never seen a man before. There’s no way for me, as a man, to ever explain what that feels like.” He reached for her hand and laid it against his heart. “You said every touch I’ve given was without judgment. Every time you touch me, your hands shake. You have no idea how that makes me shake. I’m not talking sexually, either. You shake everything I’ve ever know myself to be.”

Pulling her closer, he ghosted his mouth against hers. “And every kiss? Jesus, don’t even get me started on the way you kiss me. From the first kiss we shared that you stopped”—he softly bit her lip, sucking it between his teeth—”to this kiss right now, you sink me. You make love to me with every kiss. You confirm what this wiseass knew the second he laid eyes on a beautiful waitress with food splattered all over her uniform. I hate using the same lines, but your lips were made for mine. Which means each kiss was made for me. Each time you look at me the way you do, lay a shaky hand on my body, or your soft lips touch mine, you make me thank God for being a man. That’s how you thank me every day, and that’s the way I hope you continue to thank me for the rest of my life.”

Once again struck speechless, Emily wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss. She had a feeling she’d experience countless “struck speechless” moments with Gavin.

“Mmm. See? You just made love to me with that kiss.” Gavin grinned, reaching for Emily’s hand and leading her out of the nursery.

“I like that term. I make love to you with my kisses.”

“Yes, ma’am, you do.” Gavin winked and grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter. “Now you have me wanting to do nothing but stay home all day so I can continue to get some good ol’ lovin’. I’m about to cancel this little outing.”

Emily giggled and plucked a soft, knit cardigan from the closet. Opting for comfortable flats instead of her gorgeous Stuart Weitzman heels, she sat on the couch and glanced at Gavin while she slipped them on. His suggestion of canceling was becoming more appealing by the second. With his Yankees cap pulled down to his brows, he looked extremely edible swathed in dark blue jeans, a fitted graphic T-shirt, and a pair of Chucks. Emily bit her lip and moved toward her eye candy.

“We can’t cancel,” she said, tossing on her cardigan. The words came out like a pout as she accepted her purse from him. “We’re meeting them at noon, and it’s almost a quarter after eleven.” She reached for his hand and dragged him to the door. If they didn’t get out of there soon, they’d never leave. “Good ol’ lovin’ later, Mr. Blake.” She smiled as she waited in the hall while he groaned, punching in the security code.

It was all good though. She kept him happy by “making love” to him several times on their way down in the elevator.

A slight mid-April chill bit at Emily, spreading goose bumps over her skin as she and Gavin climbed from her car into the bright sun. Either way, spring in New York was beautiful as the city awoke from a long, hard winter. Not that the city wasn’t always alive and well, but the streets held a sense of renew as everything else came back to life. From store owners propping open their doors to let fresh air sweep through their buildings to the trees in every park springing with colorful buds, the center of the world roared her existence with the change of season. It was also something Emily had grown to love.