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He turns the letter toward me, grinning wildly. “You’re going to Arizona State!”
“Good, now you two can stop sneaking into each other’s rooms!” Darcy states happily, coming around to my side.
Both Tristan and I snap our heads up, staring at the little girl like she’s grown a second head.
We didn’t feel we were ready to tell the kids about us just yet. About our relationship. We didn’t want to confuse them, or make anything awkward.
Yeah, awkward. You know, kind of like finding out that we haven’t done a very good job of pulling the wool over his daughter’s eyes.
Tristan’s grinning from ear to ear, and he pulls me out of my chair, swinging me in the air. I feel the heat of his body on me, and it fortifies me, making me no longer afraid of anything.
Ferguson’s sitting in his chair, obviously confused at his sister’s comment, but then he starts clapping. Maybe he doesn’t exactly know why, but he will. We can tell him, just as soon as we’re done celebrating and laughing and enjoying this moment.
They’re my ready-made family, and Tristan is the man I’m going to love for life. Not because I have to, but simply because I want to.
“I love you, Faith Wilson.”
I stand on my tiptoes, giving him a peck on the lips, which is followed swiftly by Darcy’s and Ferguson’s collective, “Ew!”
I laugh, unable to take my eyes off the man in front of me. “I love you more.”
And I do, with all my heart. I love his children just as much.
There was a spark that ignited that love within me the first time I met them at the concession stand. Now, we have the rest of our lives to let it burn.
Made For Sin
READ THE
PROLOGUE AND FIRST CHAPTER
OF ‘MADE FOR SIN’ by
CASS KINCAID
Prologue
ASHTON
Twelve Years Ago…
At one point in time, I probably would have thought that being turned down by Layla Miller when I asked her to prom was the biggest blow to my ego I’d ever experienced. It fucking sucked when it happened, and I still can’t figure out where I went wrong. I mean, she’s the captain of the cheerleading squad, and I’m the quarterback for our school’s football team. We’re supposed to go together like—
Whatever, that’s beside the point now. Because the only thing worse than getting rejected by Layla, is having to celebrate my eighteenth goddamn birthday alongside my best friend’s little sister.
I don’t begrudge the girl having a party. Hell, she can take all her little teenybopper friends and go catch a sugar high at some Hannah Montana concert, if that’s what they want to do.
And that’s what they should want to do.
Which is exactly why I’m mortified and disgusted by the fact that my parents think it’s just fucking dandy to shove our families together and have an outdoor dinner and celebration in our backyard, celebrating my eighteenth birthday…and Sadie’s twelfth.
Sadie’s brother, Gerard—or Gunner, as he’s always been called—is my best friend, and he has been since I can remember. We’ve lived beside each other our entire lives, and our parents are best friends with each other, too. It’s sickeningly insane, really, just how interconnected and entwined our families are.
But having a joint birthday party with a godforsaken twelve-year-old? That’s a new low, even for our parents.
And Sadie’s not even the shy, quiet preteen that might have enough grace to eat her fucking birthday cake and leave me alone. No, Sadie Mitchell is boisterous, animated, and annoying as hell.
“It’s just a backyard BBQ with the Mitchells and a few friends, Ashton. You’ll survive.” My mother shoots me a glare, and for once it’s not because of the ripped holes in my jeans or the curse words coming from my mouth.
