Page 47 of The Live-In Temptation (Steele Brothers of Starlight Cove #2)

XANDER

The sun was sinking in the June sky, casting everything in that golden haze Chloe referred to as the magic hour.

And hell if she wasn’t right. Because across the yard, barefoot in the grass, hair a little windblown and skin a little sun-kissed, my girl was dancing with Emma like she’d been born to do just that.

The tutu-wearing birthday girl with frosting smeared across her cheeks, hands sticky and hair wild, was shrieking with laughter every time Chloe spun her around.

The two of them giggled and sang and danced amid streamers hung from the swing set, bringing the heart and soul to our little family get-together.

And all I could think was, this was what home felt like.

Atlas stood in the yard, the weed whacker upside down in front of him, my toolbox open, tools spread out as he “fixed” something that hadn’t been broken in the first place.

Declan sat in a lawn chair, nursing a beer and marker-stained biceps, offering his arm like a sacrifice every time Emma dashed by on a coloring mission.

And Lincoln grinned from the hammock, listening as Emma told the joke he’d taught her about a cantaloupe and a turkey on a loop like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Sutton, Laurel, and my mom were seated at the picnic table, the adults nursing glasses of wine and discussing their current read for book club while Laurel heckled everyone for sport.

It was too loud and too messy and absolutely fucking perfect.

Eventually, the dancing slowed as the sugar crash came. Conversations softened and everything mellowed into the kind of magic I wanted to experience every Saturday night.

Emma was perched on a chair next to Declan, carefully drawing another heart on his already decorated forearm. She reached for a different color—purple this time—but stopped suddenly, her brows tugged down in that way that said she was thinking. “LoLee?”

Chloe glanced over from where she was bent over the cooler. “Yeah, doodlebug?”

“When I’m six, can we make a unicorn birthday cake?”

“Absolutely, we can.”

“How about when I’m ten? Can I have a unicorn cake then too?”

Chloe strode over and crouched beside her, wiping a smudge of frosting from Emma’s cheek with her thumb. “If you want one, sure. You might like something else when you’re ten, though.”

Emma studied her for long moments, something heavy in her gaze. “But whatever it is, you’ll be here to get it for me, right?”

Chloe didn’t even pause. No hesitation, just a bright, beaming smile aimed at our girl. “Of course I will.”

Emma set down her marker and held out her pinkie, her expression deadly serious. “Pinkie promise?”

Chloe linked her finger through Emma’s, a soft smile on her face. “Pinkie promise.”

Then she wrapped Emma in a bone-crushing hug, pressed a kiss to the side of her head, and I felt something settle deep in my chest as I watched the two girls I loved more than anything plan a future together as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

After the sun had gone down and the string lights lit the backyard, I was pretending to give a shit about a debate with my brothers over who had the best free throw in the family.

Declan was building his case while Atlas shut down every point he attempted to make, and Lincoln…

Well, Lincoln wasn’t doing much of anything besides glancing toward the driveway like he was waiting for something.

Or someone.

After his fifth glance in that direction, I finally asked, “You got somewhere to be, Linc?”

He snapped his gaze to me. “No, why?”

“’Cause you’ve been staring at the driveway for half an hour like it’s been giving you a striptease.”

Declan leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankles, and smirked at Lincoln. “Chloe mentioned Willa’s bringing over something for Emma’s camp this week.”

“So?” Atlas said.

Declan shrugged. “So, Linc’s probably waiting for his daily verbal beatdown courtesy of Hot Farmer Girl.”

Lincoln tossed a bottle cap at Declan’s head, nailing him right in the forehead and proving he had the best free throw in the family. “Shut the fuck up, Dec.”

“I’m just saying?—”

The gate slammed open, and in marched Willa carrying a wooden crate overflowing with mason jars and more wildflowers than any single person had any business hauling.

Lincoln was out of his chair and across the yard before Declan could even open his mouth.

“You hauled this by yourself?” he asked, already lifting it from her arms.

“You see anyone else with me?” She rolled her eyes and brushed a hand down her dirt-smeared overalls. “Yes, I hauled it myself, jackass. I’m not made of glass, you know.”

“No, you’re made of stubborn,” he grumbled. “And you’re going to hurt your back again if you keep trying to do this shit on your own.”

Chloe settled onto the chair between my legs, leaning back against me, and I wrapped my arms around her. “They always this entertaining?” she asked, tipping her head toward the bickering duo.

“You have no idea,” I murmured against her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple as I continued watching the show.

“Been doing a lot of shit on my own for a lot of years, Lincoln,” Willa said, arms crossed, as she stared down my brother. “Besides, fucking up my back wouldn’t be the worst way to get out of mowing the lawn.”

Lincoln scowled, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Real funny, wife.”

I narrowed my eyes, sure I hadn’t heard him right because what the hell?

Willa darted her gaze around to see who was paying attention before pinching Lincoln in the side. “It’s not even real,” she hissed, keeping her voice low, but that only made me listen harder.

“Don’t care.” He set the crate down on the picnic table and turned around to face Willa, his jaw tight, arms crossed over his chest. “My wife —real or not—isn’t going to haul this shit by herself while I sit on my ass and watch.”

Chloe shifted in front of me, turning around until her wide-eyed stare met mine. Then she whispered, “Did he just say wife ?”

I stared at Lincoln and Willa as they stormed off, bickering like they hadn’t just dropped a grenade in the middle of the backyard and walked away.

“Yeah,” I murmured, lips twitching, because this? This was going to be something. “He absolutely did.”

Thank you for reading The Live-In temptation!