“Wait, as in—”
“As in, the hand-holding-before-marriage shit? Yep. Book looked panic stricken after they dropped that bomb. He held them off, saying the team’s at a critical point in the season, but they’re not backing off indefinitely. You know how his dad is when he gets an idea in his head.”
Ty nods, then looks straight at me. “Speaking of dads…”
I laugh, and Nick tells me to stay still. “That was a terrible segue.”
“It got the job done. Seriously, how’d it go with Keith? And have you thought any more about trying to track down your dad?”
“Went better than expected with Keith. He and Heather split up, and she’s off in Cali consoling herself. It’s shitty, but it’s probably best for all involved. And Ronin’s awesome. He wants to meet Rose and Willa, so I’m gonna talk to Whit about having them over sometime soon, since he’s the chef in the family. As for Jason? I know enough to find him from that DNA kit, but, I don’t know. Keith thinks I should reach out to him, but…”
“But what? For what it’s worth, Knox, I do, too.”
“Yea, easy for you to say. What if he laughs in my face? Or wants nothing to do with me? Or has a crazy family?”
“If any of those things happen, we’ll be there for you. But he deserves to know, don’t you think?”
Ty’s words strike me. Funnily enough, I haven’t really thought of it in those terms. I’ve thought about what it will feel like if he rejects me, but I haven’t thought about how unfair it is that he doesn’t know I exist. And I, of all people, really should have thought of that. I can’t imagine my life without Rose. I don’t want to go back to the days before I knew her, the days I didn’t have Willa in my life. And when I think about how close I came to never finding out she exists, it causes me physical pain.
I can’t do that to my own father.
Whether or not he wants to actually be my father remains to be seen, but I guess that’s something I’ll have to find out.
Nick finishes up and the final product is even more incredible than I imagined. We head to the front to check out and grab our coats.
“Ready to go home, or do you want to stop at Wolfie’s? Ollie texted and said a couple of the guys are there. We’re good on time.”
It’s rare for Ty to suggest going out. He’s always been a homebody, and that’s just solidified since Phoebe moved in. It’s much more my style to stop for a drink and socialize, see who’s doing what. But that scene doesn’t hold much appeal these days.
“Nah,” I say. “I don’t feel like going to Wolfie’s. I just want to go home.” And it’s true. Home—The Chapel—has everything I need.
* * *
Willa
Knox steps out of his sweatpants and crawls into bed next to me. I roll onto my side and cuddle into him, my back to his front. He wraps his arm around my waist and for a moment, we just enjoy the silence.
“The princess is fast asleep,” he whispers, peppering gentle kisses on the back of my neck. I rock against him, letting him know I want more of his attention.
“Not too sleepy?” he asks. We were up early, and between work and Rose, I put in a full day.
“Mmmm, nope. I’m getting a second wind.”
He snakes his hand under my t-shirt, stroking the soft skin of my belly before moving upward to tease the undersides of my breasts. His feather-soft touches aren’t enough, and I press my backside against his hardening cock, urging him on. But Knox isn’t rushing anything. He continues his slow, maddening exploration of my body, tracing lines and curves, covering my body in soft kisses, and all the while I can feel his hard body against mine.
“Please,” I whisper hoarsely, redirecting his hand farther south. His fingertips brush the waistband of my sleep shorts and even that slight contact has me spreading my legs, eager for more of his touch.
“You need something?” he teases against my ear, then nips at my earlobe, the pressure just enough to drive me a little crazy.
“Yes,” I pant. “I need your hand, your fingers, your—” And just that quickly, he spreads my folds with his fingers, finding me wet and wanting.
“Holy Jesus, baby,” he practically growls. “You’re fucking soaked for me.”
“I can’t wait,” I tell him. “I need you.”
“You’ll get me,” he promises, “but first I’ll get to watch you come.”
His words spur me on, as they always do. He moves so that I’m lying flat on my back, my head on a pillow and my legs spread wide. He settles himself between my thighs, his lips achingly close to my center. The fingers of his left hand thrust into my core while the thumb of his right hand circles my clit. I can feel his breath on me as he works me over with his hands.
