Page 127 of Filthy Rich Santas

Right. Of course they’d want to be involved in a hands-on way with every part of such an important step in their business.

I swallow down the lump in my throat, hiding my sadness at the realization that I’m going to have to give up more than just this temporary arrangement with them soon. I’ll have to give up being involved in their lives at all, once they move so far away.

Because the one thing the three cities they mentioned have in common is that they’re all incredibly far away from L.A.

But this isn’t about me, so I don’t share any of that. I’m proud of what they’ve managed to build, and even though we’re all tired, I can sense their excitement as they talk about the next step for their business.

“You’ll have to keep me posted,” I say, forcing a smile. “I can’t wait to hear about what you do with the new place. I’m excited for you!”

The three of them set their phones down, then crawl into the big bed we’re all sharing tonight.

“Thanks, love,” Ryder murmurs, kissing me and pulling me close.

Surrounded by all three of them,

I push aside thoughts of the future and just bask in their presence as we all fall asleep.

29

RYDER

The next day,I lean back against the leather seat, my fingers absently combing through Lana’s hair as she sleeps with her head on my lap. The steady hum of the engine and the rhythmic click of Beckett’s knitting needles from the front passenger seat create a soothing backdrop to the peaceful moment.

I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips as I gaze down at her. We definitely wore her out last night, but it was worth every second. Still, I’m glad we all insisted she take it easy today. She put up a bit of a fight about skipping her driving shift, but Beckett shut that down pretty quickly.

After all, she made a promise to us to take better care of herself, and to letustake care of her for the remainder of the road trip, so that she doesn’t get another flare up of her lupus.

I frown for a moment, my hand going still. All the research we did the other day on this disease has left me feeling overly protective of her, and I’m not used to it.

Not because I think Lana isn’t capable of taking care of herself now that she’s no longer hiding from her diagnosis, because she’s hands down one of the most capable people I know.

The part that has me feeling a little thrown is just how much I want to take on some of that burden with her.

A small huff of air escapes me, and Tristan’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.

“Is she okay?”

I grin at him, a little of my unease with my newfound feelings easing when I see that same protective instinct reflected back at me from him.

“Yeah. Just resting.”

“Good,” he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles and then turns his attention back to the road. “She needs it.”

I chuckle and go back to stroking her hair, a flicker of arousal filling me as I recall how Beckett finally got her to agree to skip her driving shifts today.

He’s a clever bastard who knows exactly which buttons to push, and he did it by pointing out that if she rested up during the day, she’d have plenty of energy to let us fuck her the way she deserves when we finally stop for the night.

She gave in quickly after that, and I’d be lying if I said my cock isn’t already twitching with interest as I look forward to it.

But now isn’t the time, so I shake off those thoughts and try to distract myself with something else.

“What’re you working on there?” I ask Beckett over the quiet clicking of his needles. “Another scarf?”

“Hat,” he grunts, not looking up from his work.

I study the rich, warm colors of the yarn he’s chosen, then grin. “Bet it’ll look great with Lana’s hair.”

Beckett’s hands falter for just a second, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. I can read the big guy like a book after all these years, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks.

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