One Tough Cop Read Online Free PDF Page B

spit you out to sink or swim on your own. Usually the fight for survival was ingrained in parentless children living from foster homes to children’s homes. Where you had a few drawers for your own and anything you got you held onto with a fierce drive. No one gave you anything more than they had to and kindness made you wonder what they wanted in return. Although many of the children made it, even more were lost. If Nicole was one, just like he, Max knew that she would do everything in her power to make sure Jules never felt that kind of desolation and loneliness in his life. After he washed his hands he came back into the living room. Nicole still worked in the kitchen. He smelled garlic and bread toasting and his stomach almost did a cheer.
    She looked up and smiled. “There are burp cloths in the bottom of the bassinette. Throw one over your shoulder before you lift him, he tends to spit up when he burps and he was fed recently.”
    “I bet he’s probably loving his milk.” Max lifted the baby gently and put him over his shoulder. “Do you like your bottle, huh big guy, you’re heavier already.”
    Nicole laughed. “He’s a guzzler that’s for sure, but he gets his milk straight from the breast.”
    Max was unable to help the punch of arousal and ran through him at her simple comment. What would it feel like to hold her, touch her breasts, taste her nipples? The baby began to squirm and whimper and it took his mind off ravishing her naked body.
    He looked at her in alarm. “What did I do wrong, what does he need?”
    “Just pat his back lightly and he should burp,” she directed him. “He’s got a touch of colic so I’ll give him some gas drops in a minute.”
    He did as instructed and soon a belch reverberated through the tiny body. Max laughed at the very manly burp that came from the baby. He carefully took him off his shoulder and laid him in his arms like he did the first time he held him. Jules’s eyes were open and Max swore the baby was looking at him and assessing his face. His hair was black curls and his skin tone matched Nicole’s. The baby yawned like he was bored and instead began to suck on his tiny knuckle as if it was more interesting than the man who held him. Max didn’t care, he was enamored with the tiny person he held, his tiny fingers and toes and the way he smelled. Instinct seemed to take over and he began to rock back and forth while giving Jules a gentle jiggle. He was so intent on what he was doing he didn’t see Nicole set the table and come to stand in front of him.
    “Dinner is ready and this little man is asleep,” she said.
    “Oh, wow,” Max said in amazement. “I did that?”
    Nicole looked at him with amusement in her eyes. “Yes you did, good job. Now go sit at the table before dinner gets cold.”
    She took the baby and Max walked over to where she’d placed the meal. He’d never done anything like this, a quiet dinner at home, hell, putting a baby to sleep. The girls he dated tended to like a party more than motherhood. It was good for a few weeks, the drinks, the late nights, but it seemed like it was all they wanted to do. The party life got old quickly and the dating never went past a few weeks. He wanted more, but had no clue how achieve it. Maybe she was sent into his life for a reason, Max learned early never to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nicole and her son were the gift, but instead of accepting them he needed her to accept him.
    She sat across from him and waved her hand over the food. “Help yourself, Maxwell.”
    He didn’t need a second prompt. Max dug into the mashed potatoes with relish and closed his eyes at the first taste of meatloaf.
    “Do I taste bacon in the meatloaf?” he asked after chewing.
    Nicole nodded. “I saw it on one of the cooking shows. It has chopped bacon inside and on top. Do you like it?”
    “Like it, I want to take it to Vegas and marry it,” Max teased.
    Nicole giggled. “I don’t think that’s legal in