Page 75 of Talk Wicked to Me

They walked through town hand in hand. Baz pulled her in for kisses and pointed out things he thought she’d like in the shops. When they came to a grassy area with a massive gazebo, there were signs for Shakespeare in the Park, community theater. “I’d love to see that.”

“Then we will,” he said.

By the time they left, they’d bought a cute new sparkly blue collar for Ollie and an adorable Life Is Good sleeper for Brennan.

They drove along the coastal road into Orleans, stopping to walk through a windmill, where Baz told her about visiting the local windmills with his family when he was young. They looked through the guestbook and found his childlike handwriting where he’d signed it years ago. She liked seeing the places where he’d grown up. It made her feel more connected to him and to the area. After touring the inside of the windmill, Emerson sat on the grass in the shade to nurse Brennan, and Baz found a stick and played fetch with Ollie.

When had her life turned into this picture-perfect afternoon? She didn’t feel rushed or tired or stressed, and she knew that had everything to do with Baz. He was unflappable and patient. He hadn’t gotten irritated that morning when they’d had to delay leaving to give Brennan a bath or when they’d had to search for a ladies’ room because she suddenly had to pee. He reminded her of her father, knowing what to do in every situation and patiently taking life as it came.

She watched him walking toward her with Ollie at his side, his ever-watchful eyes searching their surroundings, keeping them safe. He raked a hand through his hair, which he did so often, she’d come to expect it. She liked knowing him well enough to expect certain mannerisms. When his gaze found her and Brennan, a warm smile appeared, bringing a lightness in her that she hadn’t known since before she’d lost her parents.

“Hey, darlin’. Little B was starved, huh?” He sat beside her and leaned in for a kiss before putting the leash back on Ollie.

“It takes a lot of energy to lie in the stroller taking in new sights and sounds.”

“It’s good for him.” He reached into the baby bag, pulling out a bottle of water. “It’s good for us, too.” He uncapped the water bottle and handed it to her.

Even all these weeks later, he was still making sure she was properly hydrated. For the first time since losing her parents, she knew, without a doubt, she had someone other than Gwen she could truly count on. The comfort that brought had her saying, “I think everything you do is good for us,” and sealing that truth with a kiss.

THEY MADE THEIR way up the coast, and Baz showed her cool spots and shops in the quaint towns they drove through, like the Eastham Audubon Society and the Wellfleet drive-in, which was definitely the one she’d remembered going to with her parents. Baz promised to take her there one night.

They drove by a vineyard in Truro and added it to their growing list of future outings, and headed all the way up to Provincetown, an artsy community at the tip of the Cape. They’d been there for more than an hour, and Emerson was mesmerized by the vibrant town. She was glad Baz had insisted on wearing the baby carrier rather than using the stroller. More tourists had flocked to Provincetown than any of the other towns they’d visited, and it was no wonder. The place was fantastic, with people meandering with dogs and children in and out of brightly painted shops, watching street performers, and listening to musicians and poets. Flags were strewn above the streets announcing upcoming events, and people were handing out flyers on the busy sidewalks for comedy and drag shows. Ollie was loving the attention from strangers who asked to pet him, which Baz vigilantly oversaw, and many of the stores had water bowls out front for dogs.

Emerson petted Ollie as Baz paid for a handful of baby books, a stuffie for Brennan, and a new book for her. She’d tried to pay, but he wasn’t having it. The guy behind the register handed him the bag and a dog biscuit and said, “Have a great day.”

“Thanks.” As they walked out, Baz took Emerson’s hand and said, “That’s the second Milk-Bone we’ve been given today. This place needs your dog-mama touch.”

“I’ll get right on that,” she teased.

He tugged her closer. “In that case, I’ve got a bone that could use your touch,” he said, and pressed his lips to hers.

Yes, please.

Heat rose in his eyes, and his jaw ticked. “Jesus, baby, that look in your eyes is going to get me in trouble. We need ice cream, so I can cool down.” He tugged her toward an ice cream shop.

Ten minutes later they were enjoying ice cream cones and Ollie was lapping up a pup cup in front of a clothing store. Emerson licked her ice cream as she admired a beautiful emerald-green dress with spaghetti straps that had a fitted bodice with a soft gathering between the breasts and a small A-shaped cutout beneath the gathering that showed just a peek of skin above the waist. The skirt was flowy, with a ruffled bottom, and the mannequin was wearing cute leather sandals with it.

“What do you think, Lockhart? Want to go in and try on that dress?”

“No way.” She licked her ice cream. “That’s a goal dress, and if I keep eating like this, I’ll never fit into it. Maybe when I stop nursing and start walking with purpose, I’ll lose the baby weight, and then I can consider cuter outfits like that.”

He slid his arm around her, pulling her as close as he could with the baby between them. “I love your curves,” he said low and sexy. “Just thinking about all this gorgeousness”—he grabbed her butt—“in that dress is making me hot.”

She giggled and pressed a kiss to the top of Brennan’s head. “Hear that, Bren? That’s called charm. Learn how to dole it out, and you’ll have women’s hearts melting everywhere you go.”

“It’s not charm, darlin’. It’s honesty.” He moved his hand from her butt to the nape of her neck, drawing her lips a breath away from his. “I wish you saw what I see when I look at you. You’re beautiful, sweetheart, and it wouldn’t matter if you were a hundred pounds heavier or thirty pounds lighter. I’m lucky to call you mine.” He kissed her then, and she had no idea how her wobbly legs were holding her up.

The rest of the day was just as magical. When they headed home, windows down, the scents of summer rolling in, Emerson thought about all the places they’d gone, the things they’d seen, and the stories about his childhood Baz had told her along the way.

“Have I filled your heart with Cape Cod goodness?”

“Cape Cod goodness and Baz Wicked goodness.”

“There’s a lot more of that to go around.”

Anticipation tiptoed through her with that promise. “I’m counting on it. There is one more thing that would be the icing on our perfect-day cake.”

“What’s that?”