Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
She sags against us, crying quietly.
Chance stiffens, and Dillon looks up at me with so much uncertainty in his eyes that I roll mine at him, easing her into my arms alone for now.
Chance and Dillon step back a little, giving us space, but I can feel them there, their warmth at my back like a wall of quiet, steady support.
Roxie buries her face in my chest, her fingers curling tight in my shirt, and I tilt her chin up gently.
“Rox,” I murmur, brushing my thumb across her damp cheek. “Will you please look at me?”
Her eyes lift slowly to mine, shining with uncertainty, but also with so much determination. In that moment, as our gazes connect, my heart decides its tired of being caged. We’re in this with her for the long haul, and she needs to know it.
“I love you.”
Her breath catches and she blinks hard. “What?”
Dillon curses under his breath. Chance goes still as stone beside him, but I don’t take it back.
“I love you,” I repeat, my voice solid. “I’m not saying it because of the baby. I’m not saying it because of last night. I’m saying it because it’s the truest thing I’ve ever felt.”
She tries to speak, but I shake my head gently, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “I’ve never felt anything like this, Roxie. Not once. Not even when I was married.”
Her eyebrows pinch like she hadn’t been expecting that. Hell, maybe I hadn’t been either, but it was time she knew.
“Even back then,” I continue, “something was always off with Tessa. She didn’t love me. She just loved the guy the world thought I was. A tough bastard with the reputation, the temper, and the name that carried weight.”
I let out a slow breath. “She also didn’t really like Chance or Dillon. She tolerated them because she had to. So a part of me…” My throat tightens for a heartbeat. “A part of me was never fully in that marriage because loving her meant sacrificing them, and I wasn’t willing to do that, even if I thought I should be.”
Roxie’s lips part on a tiny, wounded sound that escapes her, like she can feel that old ache I don’t talk about. I slide my hand to the back of her neck, my eyes never leaving hers. “But this? You. Us. What we’re building? It’s different. You didn’t just accept the three of us. You stepped right in and made room for all of it. For all of us. You let us love you the best way we know how, and I love you for that. More than you know.”
Her eyes flood again and she swallows hard, pressing her forehead to mine. “Boone…”
“I don’t expect you to say it back,” I reassure her quietly. “Not now. Not today. Hell, not for a while if you’re not ready, but you needed to hear it from me. You needed to know that whatever comes next, you’re not going through it without someone who’s already all in.”
Chance’s voice enters the moment like a low, steady anchor. “We’ve got you both. You and the baby. No matter what.”
Dillon steps up to her other side, lightly pressing a hand to the small of her back. “We’re all here and we’re staying, Roxie. We’re in.”
She draws a shaky breath, looking between us like she can’t quite believe it’s possible that this is all true. “You really want a future with me?”
“Yes,” I say instantly. “Without a doubt. It’s all really fast. We get that, but you know that old saying, when you know, you know? Well, I fucking know.”
Chance nods, his jaw ticking. Dillon’s grin is softer than usual, but it’s real.
“We want all of it,” I tell her. “You. The baby. The future. Whatever it looks like.”
Her lips tremble as she looks up at me, but she doesn’t try to hide it, just wraps her arms around my neck and clings to me like I’m the only stability in the room. I hold her as tight as I can, the woman holding our future and our family together.
Fear or no fear, this is real. This is us. And we’re not letting her go.
She’s quiet for a long moment, tucked against my chest like she’s listening to the steady beat of my heart to decide how she feels. When she finally tilts her head back, her eyes are still glassy, her voice small but clear.
“Should we do DNA testing? I mean, how does this even work?”
The question punches something deep within me, protective urges rising in a way that makes me absolutely certain that she was mine. Ours.
I cup her jaw and shake my head. “No DNA testing.”
She frowns. “But—”
“The baby will be ours,” I say without wavering. “Period. End of story. We don’t need a lab report to know that.”