Page 61 of Filthy Rich Temptation

No fear. No past. Just this.

Extraordinary in its normality.

Perfect in its simplicity.

12

THEO

‘Right… how do I look?’

I’m mid-negotiation with Lottie over the finer points of yoghurt placement – namely, that it doesn’t belong in her hair or mine – when Sadie’s voice cuts through, soft and uncertain.

I glance up, still wielding the spoon like a weapon in a dairy-based hostage situation… and completely lose my tongue.

She’s standing on the threshold like something out of a Wild West daydream gone rogue. Floral dress to mid-thigh. Cute little cowboy boots. Hair curled. Eyes done. Cheeks flushed. And her lips?—

God. Don’t look at her lips.

Too full. Too glossy. Too…

Shit. Too late.

‘That bad, hey?’

Bad?!

I want to cross the room and tell her she looks sexy as hell. Pull her in, press her tight against me, and tell her how much I want her.

Instead, I blink. Swallow. And say?—

‘Yoghurt!’

Her lips twitch. Her eyes dance. ‘Pardon?’

‘Uncle Feo’s a frog!’

Cheers, Lottie.

‘I mean, nice.’ I fumble to my feet like I’ve forgotten the meaning of legs as well as words. ‘You look nice.’

Nice. Jesus.

She arches a brow.

Even Lottie groans.

But there are no words… or none I can admit to her, anyway.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve seen her flushed from morning runs. I’ve seen her burst out of the elevator, giggling with Lottie after park trips and soft play sessions. I’ve seen her buzzing, sharing updates about new friends – hersandLottie’s – and plans for future meetups.

Every one of those moments has been a gift, and I’m grateful to have been a part of it. To see her finally living her life and basking in it.

ButthisSadie?

The one who’s had time to get ready without a toddler attached to one limb.

All dressed up for a night out…