Page 27 of One and Only

His face was serious. “If I lose her because we don’t do this the right way …” His voice trailed off.

Well shit.

I had to go and find a husband who was my opposite. He probably thought ten steps ahead at any given time, choosing careful placement before he made a single move forward.

It was so responsible.

So levelheaded.

It was such an inconvenient time to weigh how he stacked up against any of my exes.

Maybe this is why I’d often ended up with a bruised heart and a battered ego. I went for guys who were impulsive and adventurous andromanticin all the ways they kept me on my toes.

Read between the lines on this—the sarcasm was heavy when I said they were romantic.

“We can do this,” I told him. I infused every ounce of my blind, reckless optimism into my voice. And when his eyes locked steady on mine, I made another blind, reckless promise in my heart.

We’d pull this off if it was the last thing I did.

“We can do this,” I repeated. And then I held out my hand.

Beckett let out a shaky exhale, sliding his big, warm palm against my own. His fingers were firm and strong. They curled around mine, and chills slid down the back of my neck.

“You really think they’ll believe us?” he asked.

It was the biggest question of all, wasn’t it?

“We won’t know until we try.”

Beckett’s eyes flickered, maybe because he didn’t expect my honesty. I could practically feel the massive cloud of his thoughts, churning and restless, filling the room with an ever-growing list of ways he could talk himself out of this.

We stood with his hand wrapped around mine, hovering over a massive, life-altering decision.

Then he tugged my hand up toward his mouth, brushing a featherlight kiss along my knuckles.

The moment his lips touched my skin, heat bloomed over my face.

Oh. Okay then. My heart catapulted somewhere over the building. My fingers itched to stretch over the stubble on his face and see how it felt against my skin. I took an unwitting step forward, and he exhaled against my skin.

That’s when the door opened into the conference room. I tried to step back, but Beckett held firm onto my hand.

Parker stood in the doorway, Olive perched on his hip, with a glare on his face when he saw my hand against Beckett’s mouth.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “Really?”

Olive’s eyes widened, and Beckett cleared his throat, dropping my hand.

“Language, Parker,” he said in a dry tone.

My brother set Beckett’s daughter down, and she ran over to her dad. When he scooped her up, Beckett’s eyes met mine over her head.

Had he done that on purpose? I hadn’t heard anyone approaching, but with my hand tingling at my side, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d known.

“First Adaline, and now you,” he said, referencing our sister who was happily with one of his former teammates. “I am never introducing my sisters to anyone ever again,” he mumbled, walking out of the room with a scoff.

I exhaled a laugh.

Beckett’s hand was so big over Olive’s back, and he pressed a small kiss to the top of her head. My heart churned with the absolute bigness of what we’d just stepped into.

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