Then Ryder swooped and soared him across the room until he was laying him in his crib. “Sleep tight, K-Bear.” “Night, my Rye-Rye.” Love crushed into the room. Pressing at the walls and pushing out. Or maybe it was just a landslide of everything that had happened in the last few days when Ryder slowly turned and was facing me. Because the air deepened, a shiver blowing through. An arrow of warmth and a quiver of need. And a second later, Ryder was coming for me.
