My gaze met his, the same shininess reflected in his eyes that was in mine.
Reaching over, he tucked a few wayward curls behind my ear. They bounced back almost immediately. He smiled.
“Marry me.”
“We’re already married,” I said, my own smile lifting my lips.
He shook his head. “Marry me again. Not because you have to, because you want to.”
My heart stuttered. He and Millie were the glue that held my broken pieces together. They were my forever.
Smoothing my hand over his stubbly jaw, I said the only thing I could.
“Yes.”
Kate
“So how was it?” Izzy asked as she grabbed the bowl and followed me into the dining room. “I bet Millie had the best time ever.”
I couldn’t keep my smile from spreading. “Amazing.” My voice was a little hoarse from all the screaming, but I didn’t care.
Millie and I had gone to our very first BTS concert. It was incredible. Even more so because my poor husband was there with us. He still didn’t fully understand why we were so obsessed with this boy band, but that didn’t stop him from supporting our addiction.
I loved him a little more for that.
Izzy laughed. “Did Tristan wear the shirt again?”
“He did.” I laughed too. “And he made a sign.”
“No way.”
“All right, all right.” Evie joined us at the table, adding fresh rolls to the spread. Rubbing a hand over her very pregnant belly, she leveled my sister and me with a stare. “What or who are we laughing at?”
“Tristan wore the shirt,” Izzy provided. “And apparently he made a sign.”
Evie shook her head and laughed. “I don’t know what it is about these men but, phew, are they possessive.” She leaned forward and cupped her hand over her mouth. “It’s hot.”
“It is,” I agreed.
Her green eyes sparkled. “Can you imagine when Rafe gets a girlfriend? That boy will be all up in her everything.”
I had a feeling she was right. He might’ve been the jokester of the bunch, but I’d bet everything I had that he was the most intense.
“Where is he, anyway?” I asked.
Evie shrugged. “Not sure. My sister isn’t here yet either.”
Izzy and I shared a look. Over the past few months as these Sunday dinners became a staple, we’d noticed the tension between those two. It was like watching first graders flirt. Boy pulls girls hair because he likes her and girl sticks her tongue out because she likes him back.
“Maybe they got caught up in traffic,” Izzy said then added, “together.” Under her breath.
Evie didn’t miss it. She made a face. “Then we’re calling a funeral service because those two alone together will definitely lead to murder.”
“Or super-hot sex.” Apparently my sister’s brain-to-mouth filter was gone.
“Do I even want to know what this conversation is about?” Tristan slipped in behind me and wrapped his arm around my middle.
“No.” I leaned into him. “You really don’t.”
