Page 103 of Better Daddy
Unfortunately, Liv is definitely hiding a smile and avoiding eye contact.
Dammit. Me and my hussy hormones really walked us into this one.
Sully stands and adjusts himself discreetly before turning to greet them.
“When Cal mentioned you’d be at the game, I figured a night away with my wife and good friends would hit the spot.” Beckett smiles like he’d love nothing more than to spend the day with us.While I appreciate his graciousness, I really wish we were going to be alone.
“Yes,” Liv chimes in. “But if you two would like a few hours alone, we’re happy to go sit in the Miller family’s suite.” She nudges her husband pointedly.
“And miss out on catching up with Sully?” Beckett, clearly oblivious, gives his wife an incredulous look. “I made reservations for the four of us tonight. Wait until you try the steak at this place. Melts like butter.”
Liv mouths an “I’m sorry” as Beckett yammers on. It’s another hour before Liv convinces Beckett to take a walk with her and we’re alone again.
When the door clicks shut behind them, Sully drops his head back and sighs. “Bloody Beckett.”
All I can do is laugh. This day has gone completely off the rails, but it has been fun.
“Fuck, I love the sound of your laugh,” he says, his blue eyes vibrant thanks to the sun shining down over the stadium and the joy that radiates off him.
And I love you.
I almost say it. Iwantto say it. I’m pretty sure my husband can see how much I want to say it. It’s right there on the tip of my tongue, but the words won’t budge.
The moment passes, and he blinks.
Dammit.
What is wrong with me? Why didn’t I just say it? I’m happy. My husband’s happy. I know what I want, and yet, still my tongue feels heavy in my mouth as the words just don’t come.
What’s it going to take to convince my heart that this feeling isn’t just temporary?
Chapter 37
Sully
Seven months. My wife is seven bloody months pregnant, and in an hour we’re headed to the doctor. If Sloane were forced to deliver, Tia’s chances of survival have just gone up immensely.
A hint of relief comes with that knowledge, but mostly, I’m hoping she keeps cooking for many, many more weeks. Sloane had the date circled on her planner, so my plan has been to take her out to lunch at the boathouse, where we held our spur-of-the-moment post-marriage dinner all those years ago, to celebrate. And luck seems to be on my side, since the air has finally begun to turn warm and the April sky is a dull blue rather than gray.
“Psst.” Lo peeks her head around the corner out of Murphy’s bedroom.
I turn and glance her way giving her a silent what?
“You haven’t seen Cal right?” Her eyes dart frantically around and then she pulls the little clear cup of water from behind her back. A bright blue little beta sits about halfway up the cup.
“Another one didn’t make it?” I whisper.
Lo sighs. “Bubbles number eight just bit the dust. One to go.”
Madame E had told Lo months ago Cal would go through nine ofthese little guys before one finally stuck. So Lo and Murphy had bought backups and kept them in Murphy’s closet.
“Do you find it crazy that you can keep all these fish alive in the cups for months, while my brother can’t manage to keep the one in the tank from going belly up?”
“Shhhhh.” Lo hisses and she rushes toward Cal’s door.
“Lola!” My brother’s voice has Lo visibly cringing, but she spins with a bright smile on her face. “What are you doing?”
“Taking bubbles for a walk.” She beams.
