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“Five hundred?”

“Hmm, I’m investigating ways of prolonging the human life span in my spare time.”

“Of course you are.”

“The ocean quahog can live that long. If I can replicate… anyway, enough of that. I don’t want to bore you.”

“You could never bore me.”

He entwined their fingers. “It’s scary. I’ve never been with someone in a committed relationship. I’ve never loved anyone either. But it’s you and me, sweetie. And that’s all we need.”

Chapter 7

They pulled up in front of tall wrought-iron gates.

Isla clasped hold of Marcus’ hand. They were sitting in the backseat of the car Cullen had hired. Cullen was driving and Ivy was in the front passenger seat.

Isla wondered what it would be like to sit in a booster seat. To have a Daddy take charge. Maybe put her down for a nap, give her a bottle.

She’d never voiced those desires before. But they were there, locked away.

The guard let them through, and they were winding their way up the tree-lined driveway.

Then the building came into sight and her breath caught.

It was huge with a front porch that extended all the way along the front. Three stories high, it was very impressive.

This was where they were staying?

Cullen pulled up out front. He turned to look at them all. “Ready?”

No? Maybe. She had no idea. She squeezed Marcus’ hand tightly.

“It will all be okay,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

She did. It was everyone else she had issues with. But she sucked in a deep breath.

She could do this.

Marcus slid out, and she followed him, grabbing hold of his hand again. Cullen and Ivy were already out and had climbed the stairs to the front doors.

Marcus tugged her up the steps and then they stepped into a huge lobby with vaulted ceilings. There was a double-sided fireplace in the middle of the room and the check-in desk was off to the side.

“Erika!” Ivy said excitedly as a dark-haired woman walked toward them. The other woman hugged Ivy gently.

Cullen kept a hand on Ivy’s back, but he smiled at the other woman. “Erika, nice to see you again.”

“It’s so good to see you both. And Marcus!”

Marcus let go of her hand to bounce over to Erika, hugging her enthusiastically. Isla wished she could be so free with her touch.

She also wished he hadn’t left her standing there. Alone. She felt exposed. Vulnerable.

She took a step back. She didn’t feel right being here. It wasn’t a place she knew or belonged. Everyone knew each other, and she was the outcast. She kept moving back until she bumped into something big and unmovable.

Turning with a gasp, she stared up at the big mountain of a man standing there. Her eyes were level with the middle of his wide chest. She ran her gaze up his plaid-clad chest to his long, bushy beard. It was dark brown with a generous sprinkling of gray. Hazel eyes stared down at her with warmth and curiosity.

Definitely older than her thirty-two years. Maybe late forties? Early fifties? It didn’t matter, age looked good on him. He gave the appearance of a cuddly teddy bear. Strong, yet kind and soft at the same time.

What was she doing? She didn’t even know this man, and she’d been staring at him for a long time.

She took a step back and worry filled his face.

“Hi there, little one. You okay?”

Was she okay? She really wasn’t sure. She felt out of sorts. Weird.

“Hey, what’s going on? Who are you?” Marcus stepped up to her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Instantly, she felt warm. Settled. But also a bit disappointed as the man took his warm gaze away from her.

But he just moved to studying Marcus. And whatever he saw made the warmth in his face grow. She glanced up at Marcus. The younger man looked flushed. Slightly nervous?

That seemed crazy, though.

“My name is Eliot Baird. You’re both guests of the Ranch?”

“Yes,” Marcus replied.

She elbowed him softly. He was forgetting his manners. She would speak up, but her voice had disappeared.

“Huh? Uh, I’m Marcus and this is La-la.”

“La-la?” Eliot turned that magical gaze back to her. She swore when he looked at her it was like a warm blanket pressing around her.

So safe. Cozy.

Silly Isla.

“Isla,” Marcus corrected. “La-la is my nickname for her.”

“That’s cute,” he said. “Are you all right, Isla? You seem a bit pale.”

“Pale?” Marcus asked. “La-la? You okay?”

She looked up at him, trying to convey that she was overwhelmed.

“She’s okay,” Marcus said. “Just tired. We’ve done a lot of traveling and La-la doesn’t like planes.”

“I see. You read all that in a look?” Eliot asked. He appeared more amused than annoyed by her silence, which was a relief.

“Sure. I can read La-la like a book. I don’t need words. And right now, she needs to go lie down. It was nice to meet you, though, Mr. Baird.”

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