Page 4 of Secret Baby for the Triplets

She hesitates, looking toward her party, but they aren’t visible from where we’re standing. “Where do you want to go?”

Interest ignites in me. “We can go anywhere you want.” I eye my brothers, who nod in agreement.

Her eyes go wide, and she quickly turns her head. “Uh-oh.”

I follow her gaze and spot her bachelorette party weaving their way toward us. One of them bumps into a wall, and she cringes, but another one leads her friend toward the elevators. We duck out of sight to watch.

She exhales when they get on the elevator, visibly relieved that they did what she told them.

“Lightweights.” She rolls her eyes as she turns back to us.

Toby snorts. “That’s gonna be some hangover in the morning.”

“Let’s get out of here,” she says.

I don’t need any more encouragement. I guide her toward the exit, making sure no one notices as we slip out into the thick Nevada night. It’s later than I realized.

Neon flashes brightly as music spills randomly from cars and businesses alike. Every so often, a hint of cooked meat permeates the air as we walk away from the resort, heading toward Las Vegas Boulevard.

She leads us into a bar, like she’s been here before or just knows exactly what she wants. The music inside is upbeat, the kind that makes it impossible not to move with the rhythm.

She throws a glance over her shoulder, a spark in her eyes. “This place seems fun.”

We follow her toward the bar, slipping through the crowd as the bass shakes the floor. She gestures to the bartender. “Four beers and four shots.”

“I’ve got it,” I say, reaching for my wallet.

She waves me off. “Don’t worry about it. Consider it a thanks for the rescue.”

I shoot a look at my brothers, and they both raise their brows like they’re just as surprised as I am. Still, we’re not about to argue. The drinks land in front of us, and we lift the shots in silent agreement before tossing them back.

I lean in, catching her scent—something warm and unexpected, like spice and fresh-cut apples. It clings to her skin, wild and addictive.

“What’s your name?” I ask, close to her ear.

She stares at me for a long time, a smile curving on her lips. “Diana.”

My brow lifts, the name landing wrong. She hesitated just a little too long.

“Diana?” I echo.

She nods. “Yep.”

Her glittering eyes tell me she’s lying, but I don’t press her. If she doesn’t want to give me her real name, who am I to push? “Diana works for me,” I tell her. “I’m Brock.”

She drapes her arms around my neck, pulling me toward her, startling me with her brazenness. With her lips inches from mine, she beams, hot breath turning me on against my face. “You know what?”

“What’s that,Diana?”

“I don’t care.”

Dropping her arms, she continues dancing. I catch Owen’s surprised look over her head and burst out laughing.

The bar gets fuller by the minute, standing room only as tourists flood the dimly lit dance floor. Her eyes catch the light, bright with energy, and my hands find excuses to touch her—fingertips brushing her bare shoulders, gently moving a few loose strands of blonde hair away from her skin. I settle my palms on her hips as she presses into me, moving to the beat while Toby closes in on her other side.

She’s confident and unfiltered, tossing back shots like a pro but chasing them with water, pacing herself like she’s done this before.

When I return from the bathroom, I see Toby behind her, his mouth trailing over the delicate lines of her neck. A euphoric expression colors her pretty face, and I stifle the uncontrollable urge to haul her out of there and into the nearest hotel room. Hell, I don’t even know if I’d make it that far. She’s too fucking hot.

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