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"Yep, five years of putting up with this guy," I say, nudging Tanner with a teasing smile.
"Putting up? I'm a delight," Tanner protests, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. His playful facade can't hide the warmth in his eyes though, a warmth that's mirrored in my own heartbeat.
"Which is exactly why I'm here," Jake says, his tone shifting to something more sincere. "I was thinking, you two should have the night off. Go out, celebrate. I'll babysit this little terror."
"Really?" I exchange a look with Tanner, the idea unfurling like a gift. Alone time has been scarce since Lily came bouncing into our world.
"Absolutely. You guys deserve it," Jake insists, ruffling Lily's hair. "And I could use some quality time with my favorite niece."
"Favorite? She's your only niece," Tanner points out with a mock scowl.
"Semantics," Jake shrugs. "So what do you say? Do I get to spoil her rotten tonight or what?"
"Jake, that would be amazing," I breathe out, feeling a swell of gratitude for my brother who's always had our backs.
"Go on then, make those reservations. Paint the town red. Or whatever color you two lovebirds want." Jake grins, already pulling out toys to distract Lily with.
"Thank you," I whisper, squeezing his hand, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. Tanner claps him on the back, the two sharing a moment of wordless understanding. It's moments like these when I know, without a shadow of a doubt, we're not just a family—we're a team, unbreakable.
"Okay, let's leave Uncle Jake to his babysitting duties," Tanner says, his voice low and promising as he guides me away from our cozy chaos, a twinkle of anticipation lighting up his deep blue eyes.
"Bye, Mommy! Bye, Daddy!" Lily calls, already engrossed in a game of space explorer with Jake, her giggles fading as we step out of the house and into what feels like the first breath of freedom in ages.
* * *
The door clicks shut behind us, and I lean back into Tanner's solid chest, a playful sigh escaping my lips. "Looks like we have the night all to ourselves," I murmur, pressing my hand over Tanner's as it snakes around my waist.
"Looks that way," Tanner rumbles, his breath warm on my neck. "Do you know what I’m going to do to you tonight, wife?" His fingers trail a tantalizing path just above the hem of my jeans, sending shivers down my spine.
"Not until you at least wine and dine me,” I tease.
“Then you better hurry up and get dressed. I don’t know how long I can hold off,” he warns me.
I scamper upstairs, my heart pounding with excitement. Our bedroom smells like vanilla and musk, a scent as comforting as it is arousing. There’s something about getting ready with Tanner nearby, our anticipation tangling together like the sheets we'll later unravel.
"Hey, sailor," I tease, watching him peel off his day clothes, revealing that body sculpted from duty and strength. "Planning to wear anything special tonight?"
"Only if you count the cologne you love," he shoots back with a wink, dabbing a bit on his jawline—the spot I’ll surely be kissing later.
"Keep that up, and we might never leave this room," I laugh, slipping out of my own casual wear. I choose a dress that hugs every curve—a deep red, the color of passion, of ripe cherries, of the flush I feel creeping up my cheeks.
"Molly," Tanner's voice is a low growl as he takes me in. "You're trying to kill me, aren’t you?"
"Wouldn’t dream of it," I retort, fastening the clasp on my necklace with hands that tremble ever so slightly. "Not when I've got plans for you."
Tanner slips into a crisp shirt, the muscles of his back shifting enticingly beneath the fabric. I'm drawn to him, my fingertips grazing along his belt, feeling the thrum of his pulse through the denim.
"Plans, huh?" He turns, trapping my hand against him, his eyes darkening. "I like the sound of that."
"Patience, Mr. Navy SEAL," I whisper, freeing my hand with a smirk. "We've got all night."
"Then let's not waste another minute." Tanner offers his arm, gentlemanly, but the promise in his touch is anything but polite.
As we head downstairs, I catch our reflection in the hallway mirror—Tanner, handsome and fierce; me, flushed with desire. We're a picture of eager yearning, poised on the edge of a night filled with laughter, whispers, and the kind of fiery connection that burns hotter each year.
"Gotcha!" Jake's voice echoes playfully through the living room as he sweeps our daughter up into his arms, spinning her around until her laughter becomes a melodious backdrop to the evening. Her little hands grasp at his stubbled cheek, a gesture so tender it squeezes my heart.
"Fly, Uncle Jake, fly!" she squeals, and Jake complies with another twirl, pretending to be an airplane. She's the spitting image of Tanner, all daring and bright-eyed wonder, but when she giggles, it's my own joy reflected in her sound.
