Page 55 of Brokered Betrayals
“Look, I can’t go into great detail, but I want you to know that our agency is working on an arrangement that benefits both the adoptive families, the birth parents, and the innocent children caught in the middle. I’ve also referred the birth mothers to a litigator who will represent them pro bono. They will serve Shania Price with a civil lawsuit notice as soon as authorities locate her. A judge won’t preside over a civil case until the criminal matters are resolved, but they’ll freeze her assets so she can’t sell off everything.”
“That’s good news,” Sawyer said. “Thank you for sharing that with us.”
“I have even better news,” Ivy said. “Judge Hampton brought up your case specifically today. She’s received all the documentation to proceed as soon as the audit is over. She made several complimentary remarks about you without provocation from me.”
“Like what?” Royce asked.
“She told me that your home care specialist gave you rave reviews and that your adoption recommendation letters were some of the most touching she’s read in three decades on the bench. You’ve got this, guys, and I can say it with my whole chest.”
“Thank you, Ivy. Keep us posted on anything else you hear.”
“You got it. Just keep loving your daughter and let me fret about the legal stuff.”
“Will do.” Royce disconnected the call and gripped the throw blanket to tug Sawyer closer. “Do you feel better?”
Sawyer did a quick body scan and didn’t find any lingering tension. “Yes. Much better.”
“Good. You look ridiculous.” He slapped Sawyer’s ass through the blanket. “Get dressed, and let’s power clean for the next forty minutes so your mom won’t know we fucked and slept all day long when we were supposed to clean.”
Sawyer laughed. “She knows damn well what we’ve been up to. Hell, she encouraged it.”
“Doesn’t mean I want her to see the evidence,” Royce said. “Where do you want to start?”
Sawyer eyed the fit of Royce’s sweats again.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that again. There’s no time for oofing around. We have serious work to do.”
Sawyer let the throw blanket fall to the floor and basked in the admiration flaring in Royce’s eyes. “Fine,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll go get dressed.” He felt the heat of Royce’s lustful gaze on his naked backside when he walked away and starteda silent countdown. He’d made it to four before the sounds of Royce’s hot pursuit reached his ears.
Fight, flight, or oof? Was there any question? Sawyer sprinted down the hallway, knowing the fun that awaited him. First the flight, then the oof.
Royce slid his arm around Sawyer’s waist and looked down at the pizza box sporting a Savannah bakery logo that promised the world’s best brookies. “What exactly is a brookie? And who decided this bakery makes the best?”
Sawyer opened the lid and revealed a massive chocolate chip cookie and brownie hybrid that smelled like heaven. “This is a brookie.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “I just gained five pounds.” He shook his head and closed the lid. “We shouldn’t serve this.”
“You’re right. We just fed them a feast,” he said, nodding toward the living room, where their family gathered. “They shouldn’t expect dessert from two men with a three-week-old baby.”
Sawyer turned to him and rolled his eyes. “Not for that reason.”
“You don’t need to watch your weight,” Royce protested. “You’ve already resumed your workouts, and I read that feeding a baby burns off a lot of calories.”
“Breastfeeding burns calories. Neither of us is producing milk.”
Royce pursed his lips in confusion. “Then why can’t we eat the crownie?”
“Brookie.”
“Same difference,” Royce said. “They both mean the same thing.”
“Brookie sounds cuter. Crownie is too clown-y.”
Royce quirked his brow. “Is this the beginning of corny dad jokes and puns?”
Smiling, Sawyer said, “I guess it could be.”
“So, why can’t we eat the dessert you bought?”
“That’s the thing,” Sawyer said. “I didn’t buy it. Alec sent it as a gift, but Dane is the actual intended recipient because it’s his favorite.”