Page 71 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

“Oh… Like a defensive lineman,” Ambrose nods.

Is that what I mean? I’m not sure. But right now is not a very good time for me to become acquainted with football.

“I propose that one of us always sleeps in the parlor, okay? The other three of us can sleep in the bedroom. Okay?”

“Like take turns?” Boone asks, brightening.

“And whoever is in the parlor will head off any children who come wandering over to our side of the cottage. That sound good?”

“It’s brilliant,” Ambrose grins. “I love it.”

“My favorite part is that Harrison is stuck in the parlor for the next three days,” Boone whispers excitedly. “He’s going to be so pissed!”

Sighing, I pantomime that Boone should shut up. “Let me handle that part?”

“No!” he complains. “I want to tell him!”

“Absolutely not,” I insist. “Now get in there, get your son to bed, and meet me in the middle of that giant mattress.”

His eyes go wide. “Seriously?” he asks in a low mutter. “We doing this? Right now?”

“Right now, big boy,” I smile, licking my lips.

“Okay!”

Boone rushes in past me, leaving Ambrose and me alone on the threshold.

“You sure that’s okay?” I ask again.

Slowly he reaches up, stroking my cheek with his knuckles as he smiles.

“It sounds… almost perfect,” he smiles.

“It will be better when we can all be together,” I admit.

Every brush of his fingertips across my cheeks makes my skin rush with goosebumps. I need him. Right now. I can hardly wait anymore.

“Soon, baby,” he reassures me. “One step at a time.”

Glancing over my shoulder to make sure there are no children imminent, he comes up, towering over me. I get up onto my tiptoes so I can kiss him, quietly, in the gathering Irish gloom.

How many lovers have stood on the side of these cliffs, kissing while the ocean thunders a hundred feet below? It sounds like something out of a novel.

It’s heavenly.

Chapter 30

BOONE

Maybe I judged this fairytale cottage thing too quickly. Every second in here with Jolene and Ambrose gets more magical.

That beer was strong as hell. I feel heavy, like two more beers would have done me in. Probably the jet lag, too. And I don’t think I ate quite enough today.

What I mean to say is, this is like a dream.

The bedroom door closes heavily behind her. Jolene leans against it with her fingertips for a moment, resting her heel against it as she watches us. Ambrose and I stand shoulder to shoulder.

We are finally alone again. How long has it been?

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