Page 15

15

AMELIA

The ride to Dane’s is full of tension, despite Lyla squirming and cooing in the back seat of his SUV. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I’ve nearly kissed him twice now.

Twice!

Once, I could have written off as a fluke, a moment of weakness because of curiosity and because of familiarity, but twice?

Watching him with Lyla is equal parts comforting and painful. He’s so good with her, and her response to him warms my heart. A part of me wonders if Sam really is right. If this situation, however unorthodox it is, will be good for her too.

I know Dane isn’t some trade-off or stand-in for her father, despite his genetics.

But there’s also a part of me that feels strangely comforted from his words.

He wants to take care of her. He wants to take care of me.

And that itself is as terrifying as it welcoming.

But I don’t want to upset the balance of his life just because mine was uprooted. And I meant what I said to Richard. I don’t want to put anyone out or make any one of them uncomfortable by moving myself and my daughter in with them. A baby is quite a commitment, and if there’s anything that will rock a single man’s world, it’s a baby.

We pull up to Dane’s house. It’s expansive, with a long two-lane driveway, and it’s perfectly landscaped with bright bushes and flowers alongside the walk. I can see Tripp’s Mustang in the driveway, next to Richie’s Corvette. Dane parks right behind the Mustang, and I blink, taking in the sight of what may potentially be my home for…

A little while. Not forever, just…long enough for me to get settled with a job, a working car, and a place of my own.

“Wow,” I say as I gape at the wraparound porch. “This is…”

“It’s equipped with five bedrooms, six and a half baths, and a killer game room,” he says with a smirk.

He opens his door and gets out quickly, just as I’m opening mine. He offers me his hand, helping me down, and I can’t stop staring in awe.

I swear it looks like a dream.

My house with Dex was much more minimalistic and modern than this. Dex loved the crisp white and grey aesthetic, and he was all about the modern accents. They were sleek, sharp. Like him.

I’d liked it for the most part, the air, the spacious feel, but it never felt like home. It felt like I was living in someone else’s home, and maybe now I know the reason for that had nothing to do with aesthetics.

Just from looking at Dane’s house on the outside, I can tell it’s warm. The rocking chair placed on the porch, the perfectly manicured lawn with bright flowers. The swing hanging from the tree that boasts flowerpots with overstuffed flowers and vines…

It’s so beautiful.

The sound of Lyla alerts me, and I realize I’ve spaced out completely.

“Come on,” Dane says, nodding for me to follow him as he carries her inside.

I follow him without question, and immediately upon entering I’m met with the sweet smell of freshly brewed coffee and…

My gaze settles on the countertop where I see an open box of donuts. Next to it is Tripp, stuffing his face with one. His gaze meets mine and I stop in the foyer. Richie turns to look at me and I feel frozen. My heart might have actually stopped working.

“Can I get you anything, Mia?” Richard asks, his deep voice brushing over my skin despite being a mere foot away.

“Yeah, an appointment with a therapist, stat,” I murmur under my breath, but thankfully no one actually hears me.

“Mia…” Tripp says through a mouthful of donut, his smile lighting up his eyes. “So good to see you again.”

In a flash, he’s there, wrapping his arms around me, and the world stops. I breathe in his sweet scent, closing my eyes as his arms hold me tight.

He’s like a ray of sunshine and it instantly relaxes me, but when I open my eyes, I notice that both Richard and Dane—who has Lyla on his hip—are watching us. Intently.

I blush, holding Tripp out at the arms.

“It’s good to see you too, Tripp,” I say softly, offering him a smile before meeting Richard’s steely gaze. “A cup of coffee sounds great,” I answer him, meeting his knowing look. He shakes his head, setting about pouring me a cup.

Dane nods for me to take a seat at the island. “Have a seat.”

Tripp gently places his hand at the small of my back, guiding me toward the tall chairs. He quietly pulls one out for me, and I feel flush again.

“Thanks,” I say, avoiding eye contact if only because I think if I look at him right now, I might be too tempted to fall into those gorgeous baby blue eyes and forget where I am and what I’m actually supposed to be doing here.

“So, Richie said you wanted to talk to us,” Tripp says, leaning on the counter next to me. The motion draws attention to his rather defined forearms, which stand out against the tight fit of his white T-shirt. My gaze travels down his shoulders, over the curve of his ass as he props one foot up.

In the light of the kitchen, he looks positively divine.

“Uh…yes,” I say as Richie pulls my attention.

“Cream? Sugar?”

“Yes, both, please,” I say as Tripp scoots closer to me. Dane clears his throat, dousing the tension in the room as he takes a seat next to me. He still has Lyla against him, and for the moment I let him hold her. Richie slides me my coffee and I grasp it with both hands, reveling in the warmth against my palms. One sip soothes my nerves barely a fraction, but it’ll have to do for now.

“Richie uh…suggested it might not be a bad idea for me to uh…”

“Move in,” Dane finishes my sentence, but his voice isn’t stern or harsh. It’s soft, sympathetic almost.

“That’s right,” Richie grunts as he leans back against the kitchen counter, sipping his own cup. Trip pushes the box of donuts toward me.

“No thanks,” I say, shaking my head.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs, grabbing another donut. I watch as he swipes some pink frosting from the top, a small dab on his finger.

“Maybe the little princess will be down for some sugar,” he says, and Dane shoots him a glare, but the minute Lyla sees Tripp, she lights up, squirming in Dane’s arms as she tries to reach him.

“That’s my girl,” he says as he brushes the slightest bit of icing on her mouth. Her tiny pink tongue darts out, licking his finger. Richie curses something incoherent as Dane tries to pull her away, but I can’t stop watching them.

My heart grows a few sizes, I think.

“Right,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “But uh…I didn’t want to unless?—”

“Well, you don’t need my permission,” Tripp says with a laugh. He turns to me, making eye contact directly as he slides his icing clad pinky into his mouth, his tongue rolling around his finger as he grins at me.

Richie curses again as Dane chastises him, but Tripp only smiles as he leans closer to me.

“So it’s a hell yes from me. And I’m pretty sure Dane would?—”

“I can speak for myself, Tripp,” Dane cuts in. I move to grab Lyla off of him, needing something to ground me to the here and now, because everything feels so upside down right now. Including my stomach.

Dane regards me with a soft look, despite the bite in his words.

“You know I’d be more than happy to have you,” he says, reaching out to trace Lyla’s cheek. “Both of you.”

Richie takes a long sip of his drink, pulling my attention. I watch how he leans against the counter, his broad shoulders tight, his muscles standing out even beneath his long-sleeve shirt.

His steely gaze meets mine and he nods, grunting in response. “Wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t want you here, baby girl.”

Tripp and Dane both shoot him scowls, and though I should feel weird about the strange tension between them, I don’t. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, actually.

Something about the posturing, the testosterone…it only fuels the fire inside of me that is slowly catching.

But can I actually live here in the thick of this?

What’s the alternative, Amelia? Barely scraping by in a shitty apartment you can’t afford?

“So that’s just it, then. You all are one-hundred-percent fine with me and my daughter taking over your bachelor pad?”

“This is not a bachelor pad,” Tripp says, shaking his head. “It’s more like…a hockey-themed Airbnb.”

It’s my turn to shake my head and laugh. Tripp smiles.

“Really? Do you rent out your spare bedroom to all the single moms?”

Tripp smirks. “No, just hot ones.”

“Tripp!” Dane growls, the frustration in his voice evident.

“What? Just stating the obvious,” he says as he tears into a donut.

“If I’m moving in here, there will definitely need to be ground rules,” I say.

Dane sighs, scooting his chair closer to me. “Of course. I think that would be good for all of us.” I don’t miss the way his pointed stare fixates on Tripp. But Tripp doesn’t seem to care at all, which is oddly refreshing.

“So that’s a yes?” Richard asks. Lyla coos loudly, blowing raspberries until little spit bubbles slide down her chin.

“Well, I think we’ve won her over,” Tripp says with a laugh.

“How about you?” Dane asks.

“Just for a month,” I say sternly. “We can determine my…lease…at the end of a month. If I get a job, my car…” I shoot a knowing look at Richie, who nods in understanding. “…a place of my own, I’m out.”

“Understood,” Dane says as Richie nods.

“One month,” Tripp says, settling his hand on the small of my back as he wipes up Lyla’s spit bubbles with one finger. She giggles and squirms as he smiles.

“One month,” I say.

What’s the worst that could happen in one month, right?

The next morning is a blur of Rose brothers, a fussy baby, and a myriad of boxes. True to their word, all three brothers showed up to my apartment bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning, ready to pack up my life.

Thankfully, since I’ve barely been here a month already, I didn’t have much in the way of packing to do, considering half my belongings were still in boxes, but I digress.

They move with the utmost efficiency, loading my suitcase and boxes along with Lyla’s pack-n-play and all of her necessities into Dane’s SUV and Richard’s Corvette.

Before long, we’ve got everything packed up and Tripp is packing up my daughter in her carrier. “I’ll drive you back,” he says, fastening her into her seat.

“Okay,” I say, before Dane or Richard can come over and try to dissuade me.

They aren’t necessarily mean or shitty to Tripp, but I can tell by the tension in their shoulders every time he comes near that his being next to me causes them some sort of distress or panic.

I know I should probably keep Tripp at arm’s length, given the circumstances and all, but strangely enough, I find myself seeking him out just as much. His sunshine personality and his bright eyes warm me in a way I’ve never known.

He settles Lyla into the back seat of his Mustang, once again struggling as Dane catches us.

I freeze, watching as he makes his way over to us. Part of me is worried he’s going to say something, or try to swindle me into riding with him, which would be great, but…

That’s not what he does, at all.

“You need some help there, Tripp?” he asks, his voice brisk yet steady.

“No, I got her, thanks,” Tripp says, jiggling the carrier and fussing with the seat belt again.

Dane holds his hands up, catching my gaze. “Kids. They never listen, do they?”

His attempt at humor actually does make me laugh. I shake my head, crossing my arms.

“They’ll never learn unless they do it themselves,” I tell him.

Dane smirks as Tripp uses one hand to flip his stepbrother off.

Dane laughs, capturing my gaze once more. “See you at home, I guess.” The way he says the words is soft, careful. Full of so much hope and excitement it’s hard to ignore.

When we get home , to the Rose residence, things are just as hectic. It’s a wild rush to get Lyla’s room set up, and because my daughter has the worst timing ever, that’s when she decides to spit up her lunch all over me. Tripp fusses, worried he is somehow responsible for my five-month-old’s queasy tummy, even though I know he’s not.

Still, it’s nice to see his concern. While Richie takes off to work on my car, Dane works on setting up Lyla’s crib, leaving me and Tripp alone on the porch as I rock her back and forth, trying to settle her.

“Are you sure?” he says, reaching out, stroking her soft hair. The way he looks at her has my stomach in knots, has my thighs warm and slick.

That is a terrible idea, Amelia. You don’t need to catch baby fever this soon, and especially not with Tripp. He’s far too young, and he’s…

He grins when Lyla coos, his fingers stroking her soft hair with gentleness.

“I’m sure, we have it from here. You need to go to practice. Seriously.”

He sighs in defeat, looking at me with warm blue eyes as he purses his lips. “Fine. If you say so…”

“Absolutely. I might be staying with you guys for a little bit, but I don’t want to upset any order or throw a monkey wrench into your routine. Just…do what you need to do. I promise I won’t get in the way too much.”

He stands, dropping his fingers from Lyla’s hair, and I think she’s finally settled, so I get up as well.

“You will never be in the way here, Mia,” he says, taking a step closer to me. I know I should push him away, but I don’t. The crickets chirp and the setting sun lights him up, and all I can do is take in the sight of him like this.

I know once the dust settles it will really hit me. I’m going to be staying here with them. With him.

And while I’m not sure how to navigate one relationship, let alone three, I do know that in their presence, there is a peace and feeling of relief that is addicting.

I want to believe him. I really do, but he’ll likely be singing a different tune after a few days of midnight crying, feeding, and early morning rises.

But right now, I just want to live in the illusion for a little bit, feel the excitement and the warmth of being here in this moment.

With him.

I nod. That’s the moment Dane opens the door.

“Crib’s done,” he says softly.

Tripp takes a step back. “I’m off to practice,” he says, his playful demeanor shifting back to the one he’s had all day around his brothers. With them he’s a bit cockier, a bit more assertive. I can’t say it’s a bad thing, at least from my point of view, though I prefer the playful, flirtatious Tripp.

“Might go out with the guys after for drinks, so don’t wait up, okay?” He says the words to Dane, quickly flashing his gaze at me.

“Be careful,” Dane says as he exits the door, coming to stand beside us.

“I will,” Tripp says, leaning in to kiss the top of Lyla’s head.

“See you later, princess,” he says, and then he leans in, kissing me on my cheek. It’s quick, chaste, even, but it makes my cheeks heat.

“See you later, Mama Mia,” he whispers in my ear, before leaving Dane and me to ourselves.

We both watch as he gets into his Mustang, racing off toward the setting sun.

“He’s such a…”

“Trip,” I say with a smirk.

Dane rolls his eyes at me. “Really?”

I shrug, laughing as I sway back and forth with Lyla resting on my shoulder.

“Do you…” Dane runs a hand through his hair. “Are you…”

I can tell what he wants to ask, his struggle evident.

“I don’t know,” I answer him honestly. He leans closer to me, his hands in his pockets. “I just…don’t want to question what feels…comfortable, I guess. So I don’t.”

Dane sighs, his warm brown eyes glistening like amber amid the dying sun. “And Tripp feels…comfortable?” he asks evenly, though I can hear the pain etched in his voice.

“Yes,” I admit. “He’s…like a kid himself, but it’s more like he brings out the kid in me, when I’m around him. I don’t feel like I’m fucking thirty.” I shake my head.

Dane chuckles. “I suppose that’s how Richie feels around all of us,” he says.

I bump his hip with mine, realizing I’m closer to him now than I was before. He doesn’t move, though. Instead he just settles his hand against my hip, holding me steady. Supporting me.

“So do you,” I say honestly, looking up at him.

“Hmmm?” he asks, his gaze falling to my lips.

“You feel comfortable too,” I say. “You feel familiar, but strange. Old, but new.”

“I know the feeling,” he says, leaning his forehead against mine as he sucks in a deep breath.

And then I feel it. His lips grazing mine like a ghost gracefully floats through a hallway. His kiss is surprising, but not surprising at all, given how many times we’ve been here, just like this.

Lyla in my arms, and me under his spell.

His mouth presses against mine softly and he makes the faintest motion to draw back, but I don’t let him. With one free hand, I grasp his neck, holding him in place, and I kiss him back.

But I don’t just gracefully ghost my lips over his, no. I kiss him, fully, needing him to know just how comfortable he makes me feel. This man who is some amalgamation of my deepest dreams and desires, who saw me first.

Time moves slowly as he kisses me back, as our mouths and tongues dance together in a haunting waltz. And then it’s over. He breaks away, his amber gaze holding me still. Lyla is quiet and the sun has set, and my heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest.

“I’ll put her down,” he says, his voice dark and smooth. Warm like hot fudge.

“No, I can take her, I?—”

“Sit down, Mia. You’ve been moving all day. Just…relax.” He gently pulls her from my arms, cradling her carefully. “Sit down and relax. I’ll grab you when dinner’s ready, okay?”

I nod, not knowing what else to do, watching with my heart in my throat as Dane Rose takes my daughter and leaves me standing on his porch, my heart racing a million miles a minute. I don’t know how long I stand there, my fingers grazing my lips. I can still feel them buzzing from his kiss.

Somewhere inside I know this—this whole situation, me, the boys—it’s absolutely crazy.

Tripp just left, my skin still buzzing from where his lips kissed my skin, and only moments later I let Dane kiss me.

I’m not sure what any of this means, other than I’m a mess, clearly.

I try and shake off the thoughts, seeking refuge anywhere but this porch. I figure now is as good a time as ever to make myself better acquainted with the house.

I walk along the porch, following it around back. The yard is big, the kind of yard you could play kickball or baseball in. The deck makes way to a paved, semi-fenced patio complete with fire pit, seven chairs, a grill, and a small garden.

And the sight of the sun, setting over the trees out here…it’s breathtaking.

I close my eyes, breathing in the air deep, and I let myself relax.

I know I’ll have to contact my landlord in the morning and close out my lease, since I won’t be paying the next month’s rent.

But for now, for this moment, I feel like it’s okay to just breathe. I have a place to stay and I can breathe.

That is, until I hear the faint sounds of music drifting on the wind. I open my eyes, looking around for the source, smirking when I see the lights on through the garage windows. I saunter over to the detached garage slowly, the music getting louder as I approach, until I’m outside the door. I stand there for the briefest moment, noticing my Jeep, hood open, with Rich bent over the side, his face hidden so I can’t see him. But what I can see is his thick shoulder muscles working overtime, and his ass standing out pronounced against the light of the garage in those dark-wash jeans with an oiled rag hanging out the back pocket.

I bite my lip, appreciating the view, before he comes out from beneath my hood. When he looks up, he just smirks.

“See something you like, baby girl?” he asks.

“Maybe,” I say carefully. “That depends on if you have any updates about my car.”

Rich runs an oiled hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“Well, I do have an update, but you probably aren’t going to like it.”

My smile falters as he wipes his hands on his rag, taking one stop toward me.

“Why not?”

“Well, like I said, it is the catalytic converter, which I can get, but it’s going to take at least four weeks to get it into Harry’s shop for me to pick it up.”

“Four weeks?” I say, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Richie nods. “Unfortunately, yes. The model of your car is…well, they stopped making parts for your car on account of recalls, so finding an exact fit isn’t impossible, but it is not an easy feat, and because it’s not easy…”

“It’s going to be more expensive and take more time.” I sigh, leaning back against his workbench. I shake my head, reality settling in. That means at least for the next four weeks I’ll be without a car. I’ll need one of them to help me out. Going to the store, on interviews…

Panic starts to surge and I suck in a breath, covering my face with my hands. Then panic gives way to anxiety and when I open my mouth to speak, words don’t come out. Only short, stunted sobs.

“Hey…” Richie says, his demeanor shifting completely. Strong, thick, rough hands find mine, pulling them from my face. “Don’t cry, it’ll be fine, I?—”

But his words only make me cry more.

How is it that everything can change so fast?