Page 115 of Promise

“You should come out with us, Trin,” Hutch offers.

I stall, glancing from him to her. I should have asked her first.

With her eyes on me, she slowly shakes her head. “Nah. We’ve intruded enough on your night.”

I step closer to her. “It was no intrusion.” I liked them being here. Knowing they were watching me, rooting for me, even if it was only an old guys’ baseball team.

I cup the side of her neck and run my thumb up the front of her throat. Fuck, she’s so pretty.

She shrugs. “It’s time for bed for Mirabelle, anyway.”

Going to sound selfish, but when Mirabelle sleeps, it might be a favorite part of my day because I have Trinity all to myself. And I should be heading home to take advantage of that time.

“I’ll come home, too.”

“What?” Tate snaps somewhere behind us. “No. Stay out with the guys.”

All heads turn in his direction, surprise smacking me the hardest. This is new, and I’m almost suspicious of his intentions.

Trinity arches a brow in shock as well.

“Hey, sis.” He acknowledged his sister earlier, wiggling his fingers at his new niece. Tate isn’t a fan of little kids. He’s used to dealing with teenagers at the high school level.

“Hey,” she addresses him in return, narrowing her eyes at his sudden pleasantness toward me before she turns to face me. “Go. Have fun with your boys.”

She pats my chest, but before she pulls away her hand, I capture it and tug her toward me. Letting her feel how my pulse beats for her. Even with Mirabelle between us, I lay a kiss on Trin. One with tongue and heart and heat. Promises of what will come later.

Throats clear near us. Someone chuckles.

“That’s still my sister,” Tate grumbles.

I don’t fucking care. Let them watch me love my wife.

When Trinity pulls back, her eyes are stunned, twinkling in the low light. I should go home with her, but I also don’t want to turn down this olive branch from Tate.

Trinity slowly shakes her head, like she’s erasing some thought, and settles Mirabelle in the stroller.

“Let me help you.” I set my hand on the handle, but Trinity gently brushes it aside, wedging herself between me and the stroller. Her back hits my front, and I groan.

“I got it. You enjoy your night.” She glances at me over her shoulder and winks. The teasing look sets its hooks. “Behave.”

With my hand over my heart, I pledge I wouldn’t dare dream of stepping out of line.

“As long as I can misbehave with you later,” I tease, leaning in so only she can hear me.

She chuckles and shakes her head again, before walking away, giving that ass an extra wiggle as I watch her retreat.

When I turn back toward the guys, I feel ten feet tall, and they stare at me like my head is actually in the clouds. I’m grinning like a loon.

“Man, you’ve always had it so bad for her,” Hutch says, smiling almost as big as me.

“What love songs are written about,” Petty adds, grasping my shoulder and jostling me.

“Did you really call yourself Daddy?” Marshall questions, tilting his head in disbelief. Or maybe it’s disgust. He’s a sworn bachelor after having raised his sister.

“Daddy?” Tate chokes. “Fuck no.” Still, he stares at me, reality slowly registering. If I’m married to his sister, and she adopts Mirabelle, then I could be Mirabelle’s dad.

“Aw, fuck.” Tate whistles.