Page 159 of Say I Do

“Shhh, be quiet, Gin! The baby,” Ash whispered.

I groaned as Harlow’s eyes flew open and darkened immediately. We both held our breaths, waiting for Emica to announce her annoyance at Giancarlo’s loud ass voice. When she didn’t, we sighed in tandem.

“I’m going to kill him,” Harlow hissed. “I mean it this time. Find me a place to bury the pieces.”

“No, no,” I said as I slowly pulled out of him. He gasped. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You better, or I will,” Harlow huffed.

I chuckled. “Rest, baby. I need to have that meeting soon anyway. Why don’t you get some sleep? Ash said he wouldn’t mind watching Emica.”

Harlow frowned. “I’m getting up.”

“Really?”

“No one’s going to watch my baby without me around.”

I burst out laughing as Harlow stared at me. “You act scared of her, but you’re so protective too. I love that.” My chest warmed. “You know, you surprised the hell out of me since day one. I love that about you.”

Harlow’s cheeks flushed. “Don’t say crazy shit.”

“I mean it,” I said as I crossed the space to him. “You’re amazing.”

Our lips met. Harlow leaned against me, clinging as I kissed him deeply. When I pulled away, there was a smile on his lips.

“I love you, asshole,” he added.

Chuckling, I pushed the hair from his face. “I love you too, dick.”

Harlow slapped my chest. I grabbed a pair of sweats and tugged them up my hips just as someone knocked. They didn’t wait. The door flew open. Giancarlo stood there with Ash on his heels. I made sure Harlow was tucked behind me.

“What the fuck took you so long?” he asked. “You didn’t hear me calling— It smells like sex in here.”

“No shit,” I growled as I picked up a book and threw it at him. “Get the fuck out, pervert!”

“Fuck off, Gin!” Harlow yelled.

“All right, all right, I’m going.”

I shook my head. “I’ll deal with him.”

“Please,” Harlow begged. “I just keep picturing stabbing him.”

I left Harlow to get dressed as Emica started crying. Making a beeline to her room, I picked her up and made quick work of her diaper. She continued to fuss, so I carried her to the kitchen and started the bottle-making machine. As soon as it got started, I glared at my brothers who stood around the kitchen counter, looking sheepish.

“Morons.”

“Let me hold her,” Tex said. “I’m good with babies,” he added when I looked at him with uncertainty. “I mean, I think I am. I pick Pen up a lot.”

I pulled my daughter closer to my chest. “That does not reassure me.”

“I’ll take her!” Gin volunteered.

“Fuck no.”

Enzo shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about me asking. Babies are... disgusting.”

“No, they’re not,” Tex said. “They’re cute.”

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