Page 27 of The Billionaire's Instant Triplets

“Really?”

“Really. You were right. It’s silly to wear them when I don’t actually need them.”

“I don’t think I ever said that the glasses were silly…”

“No, but it was strongly implied.” Tristan raised his mug to her. “Here’s to you, for getting me to give up the pretentious glasses.”

“Okay, I definitely didn’t saypretentious…” But there was laughter in Ria’s voice, and Tristan knew she’d been thinking it. Their eyes met in the warm lamplight, and Tristan felt a shiver run through him. When Ria looked at him with those big green eyes, he had the feeling that she was seeing right through his façade to the man he really was. And strangely, he didn’t mind it. He would happily have sat here with her for hours, baring his soul and listening to her do the same.

He would happily have pulled her out of that chair to sit beside him, just so he could hold her hand and smell the vanilla-and-roses scent of her shampoo.

That thought scared him more than anything, so he quickly broke their eye contact and glanced out the window.

“Is it getting light out?”

Ria followed his gaze. “Oh, I suppose it is.” She looked at her phone and winced. “I should start breakfast.”

Tristan knew that he should go upstairs and get at least a little sleep before work. He didn’t want to, though. He wanted to stay with Ria, just a little longer.

“I can help,” he said.

“Really?” Ria’s eyes widened. “I mean, that would be great. Let’s go.” She stood, folded the blanket she’d had on her lap, and set it on the couch. Then she stretched. Her pajama top lifted slightly, revealing the curve of her side and the soft, pale skin of her stomach, before she turned and headed out of the room. Tristan took his time following her.

He’d found Ria attractive and impressive from the first time he’d seen her, but it had been easy to keep his feelings at bay. Today, though, it was growing more difficult to stop himself from imagining what it might be like to run a hand through her red curls or kiss the freckles on her pink cheeks.

Tristan knew he shouldn’t let himself develop a crush on his nanny, but it was too late. He already found Ria amazing. Yet he also knew that there was no future for them. There was no chance he and Ria would even have a relationship, so he could allow himself to feel a thrill of attraction, as long as he didn’t act on it.

Ria was already in the kitchen when Tristan entered. Balanced on her tiptoes, she carefully pulled a mixing bowl down from a top shelf. Tristan paused in the doorway until she had the bowl safely on the counter.

“How can I help?”

“Let’s see. You can help me get the ingredients. I need flour, sugar, milk, eggs…”

Tristan grabbed each ingredient as Ria listed it off, ending with a plastic box of fresh cherries from the fridge.

“What are we making?” he asked.

“Cherry-chocolate muffins,” Ria explained. “Now, you have your choice of jobs. You can mix everything together with the stand mixer, or you can pit the cherries.”

“I think I’ll be better off operating the machine than performing surgery on fruit,” Tristan said.

“Great.” Ria handed him her phone, on which she had the recipe open. “Just follow the instructions.”

It was a simple command, but it turned out far less easy to execute than Tristan had expected. He managed to pour the wet ingredients into the bowl of the stand mixer and beat them, but when he added the dry ingredients, he misjudged the angle of the beaters. Batter flew everywhere, landing on the walls, the counter, the floor — and all over Ria.

Anyone else might have been annoyed by the mess, but Ria’s eyes just widened — and then she began to laugh. With one finger, she wiped a glob of batter off her cheek and popped it into her mouth.

"At least it tastes good," she said, still giggling.

“I am so sorry.” Tristan found himself smiling, too. “I had no idea that would happen.”

“Clearly. I guess kale doesn’t fight back as much. Still.” Ria bit her lip. “You did get me very messy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be.” Ria grabbed a handful of flour and tossed it at Tristan, leaving a white cascade down the front of his T-shirt.

“Hey!” Tristan’s mouth dropped open.

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