Bran got laid occasionally… Very occasionally. When it was safe to do so and no strings were attached, no emotion involved. But ever since Ireland entered his life, he’d felt more like a caged animal, starved for her attention. The intensity of his emotions sent up red flags, but he couldn’t help asking her out.
He would keep things casual. Respectful and casual. And hopefully, if he was lucky,naked.
Ireland naked…
Bran slammed his eyes shut and let out a slow breath, flames rolling from his chest to his groin.
He had to stop thinking about Ireland without her clothes on. It wasn’t helping him remain rational. Took the blood straight from his brain and sent it south, where no proper decision-making took place.
Had he actually convinced himself he could keep things casual? God help him if he was wrong. He had enough disasters to deal with, let alone adding a romantic one to the list.
A high-pitched squeal came from the direction of Wes and Kaylee’s living room.
Bran looked past his brothers crowding the kitchen, and caught sight of Hunt. Who’d already grabbed the attention of the only single female in the room.
Bran walked over and stared down at his younger brother, lying on the ground with their baby niece on top of him. “You still got it. She’s drooling all over you.”
Hunt gave Harlow a goofy grin and raised her above his head, airplane style. “Can I help it if females adore me?”
The baby giggled, and a drizzle of drool dropped onto Hunt’s T-shirt.
“Quit hogging her,” Bran said. “I haven’t seen Harlow in a week. Wes has been too busy with the golf course to swing her by the restaurant. Hand her over already.”
Hunt shot him an aggrieved look and climbed to his feet, baby in one arm. “Only for a minute. I just got her, and I haven’t had my fill.”
Bran tucked Harlow in his arm and tugged down her lavender dress over her round tummy to her leggings. He made razzing noises on the back of her plump hand.
Full baby chuckles erupted from her drooling mouth.
Wes said Harlow was teething, and that was the reason for the excessive spittle, but what did Bran know? He wiped her mouth with the back of his clean button-down sleeve and kissed the top of her head.
Harlow was the first baby his brothers had been around, and they spoiled the hell out of her. She was also the first female Cade in two generations. Bran’s own generation resulted in five consecutive males. Thus, Harlow was showered with attention and had the full force of five overly protective adult males at her beck and call.
Kaylee was constantly after them about spoiling Harlow. Not that it made a lick of difference. It wasn’t within the Cade bloodline to allow a female to cry.
Their baby niece was going to give them hell once she came of age. There’d be fights. There’d be bloodshed. Any men who came within a few feet of Harlow would have 5 six-foot-plus men (and all their friends) breaking limbs if they dared hurt her. Though, admittedly, his niece seemed to have inherited the Cade temper. So maybe they wouldn’t have to worry so much after all. The girl had a pair of lungs, and she knew how to use them.
Bran sank to the floor and built towers with building blocks, which Harlow knocked over with her chubby baby-Godzilla arms. She rocked back and forth on her tiny bottom for him to do it again. Which, of course, he did.
That wasn’t spoiling her. That was helping build arm strength. Even Wes would agree it was good training for Harlow’s future golf career.
Bran lifted the baby and kissed her soft cheek while she madeda da danoises, kicking her pudgy little legs and bouncing in his arms. Maybe they’d allow her to date when she turned thirty. If the guy was respectful and treated her like a queen.
Hunt stood by impatiently and rolled his eyes at Bran. Then his gaze shifted toward the front door as though he heard something above Harlow’s squeals, and a wide, predatory grin crossed his face. “Well, look what we have here. Was wondering if she’d show. This one’s elusive. I like that.”
Bran followed Hunt’s gaze, and his heart missed a beat. Ireland stood with Cali and Jaeg as Wes ushered them inside.
“Ireland’s off-limits,” Bran said, flinching at his curt, automatic response.
Hunt eyeballed him. “Since when?”
No way Bran would lay claim to Ireland. He wanted her, but he’d promised himself it would be casual. That didn’t mean Bran would allow his hound dog of a brother to go after her. “Ireland is Cali’s cousin. Cali will clip off your balls if you hurt her.”
Hunt covered his groin. “First off,neverspeak of such things. It makes me queasy. Second, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a lover of women; they don’t leave my bed unhappy.”
“But do you commit?”
Hunt shot him a comical glare. “Hell no.” Hunt’s gaze raked Ireland. “But Ireland is really—”
