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“Don’t you think Con will find that strange?”
“He doesn’t need to know. We can meet here every Friday night at seven.”
“Friday nights?” She raises an eyebrow at that. “What if I have a date?”
I ignore the jealousy that surges through my bloodstream at the thought of her out with another man. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be,” she challenges.
“Well, I suggest you don’t make plans with anyone on Fridays because from here on out, I am your Friday night date.”
“I can probably do that.”
“You will do that,” I say firmly. “I also want your doctor’s name.” I hold my hand up to silence her when she starts to fight me. “I will find out either way. You tell me, or I hunt it down. Do you really want me hacking into your medical records? Because I can and I will.”
“It’s no wonder why you and Con are such good friends. You’re both psychopathic pricks when you want to be.”
“Damn right,” I give her a cheeky wink, amused by her obvious annoyance with me. “Don’t forget it.”
I grab the bill and drop a hundred dollar bill on the table. It’s way more than the bill, but if we’re going to come here regularly, I want the staff to know they and their discretion are appreciated. I place my hand firmly on the small of Claire’s back, cataloging the way her muscles move beneath my palm. I’m thankful she’s wearing a leotard, barring me from slipping my hand underneath to feel the soft skin of her lower back.
* * *
“Hey!” Lilith greets me with a huge smile as I step into their penthouse. Her face is slightly fuller, and her skin has a beautiful glow from pregnancy. She pulls me into a hug, unbothered by her large belly that’s currently growing my nieces. I kiss her cheek and hold her tightly. She’s as much a sister to me as Con and Lev are brothers. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, considering I have two tiny humans fighting for real estate in my uterus. If their kicks and elbows are anything to go by, they’re going to be feisty as fuck when they come out,” she says as she absentmindedly rubs her bump.
“As if there is any way you and Con would create children that weren’t feisty and aggressive,” Lev jokes from where he’s sitting at their kitchen island, eating a bagel with Ivy, his fiancé, snuggled under his arm.
She shrugs in acceptance, knowing there is no lie in that statement. I cannot wait to watch those little girls run circles around Con. He’s crazy protective as a friend and brother, I can’t imagine how much worse he’ll be as a dad.
In fact, that protective nature is why we’re here today. We’re helping him put together the cribs, set up the whole home camera monitoring system, and baby-proof the apartment.
“Do you want anything before you get started?” Lilith points to the platter of bagels and cream cheese. “There’s plenty of coffee, too.”
“Thanks, I’m fine though.”
“Okay,” she sighs, “you guys are on your own today. Ivy and I are going shopping for the babies.”
Ivy kisses Levi goodbye and gives me a quick hug on her way to Lilith’s side.
“Do you have your phones?” Con asks as he walks into the kitchen and makes a beeline for Lilith. “You’re taking security.” His palm splays possessively and protectively over her belly.
“Yes,” both women say in unison, with equal levels of annoyance.
“We’re going to baby boutiques not an underground fighting ring,” Lilith sasses him.
Con, Lev, and I share look. It wasn’t even a year ago that they were attacked and kidnapped behind a bridal shop on the upper east side of Manhattan. The people responsible have been taken out, but Con is still wary of his family’s connection to the Russian mafia and enemies he might not see coming.
“We’ll be careful,” Ivy says as she opens the door. “It’s not like you guys don’t have trackers planted on us somehow anyway.”
She’s right, their engagement rings have them, and the necklace that Claire wears has one. All three of our girls are always protected, whether they want it or not.
Their girls. Not mine.
I get a glimpse of Claire’s front door before Con’s shuts. I wonder what she did last night after dropping me off at my apartment. Did she go straight home? Did she go out with friends? Did she shower and crawl into an empty bed, touching herself to thoughts of our night together? I sure as fuck did.
“Griff,” Lev bumps my shoulder, “let’s go assemble some shit.”
