Page 56 of My Ex's Brothers

“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 morningis 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?”

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