Nursing the Murderer Alpha King
I usher Daxton inside before Dante can argue, closing the door and leaning against it like it’s the only thing holding me up.
“I like Mr. Dante,” Daxton mumbles sleepily. “He should come over more.”
“Maybe,” I whisper.
I get Daxton ready for bed on autopilot. Bath, pajamas, teeth brushing that’s more perfunctory than thorough because he’s basically asleep standing up. I read him three pages of his dinosaur book before he’s out completely, his little chest rising and falling peacefully.
“I love you, baby,” I whisper, kissing his forehead.
I take the world’s longest shower, letting the hot water wash away the day’s tension. Or try to. My mind keeps replaying moments, Dante almost kissing me, D