“We both know Cast has the better authority voice,” he murmurs, voice rough with affection. “Besides you laugh at mine.”
“That’s because you’re not mean.” I smile softly.
Vincent’s ocean eyes darken. “I can be mean.”
A shiver runs through me, and my mouth runs dry at the lust thick in his throat. He sits up smoothly, eyes still on me, the faintest smile curving his mouth. The light from the window cuts across his face, and for a moment he looks softer than I’m used to—less the businessman, more the man who obsessed over me, picked out all of my outfits, and couldn’t help but to whisper every dirty thing into my ear.
“Come on, before I tie you to this bed,” Vincent says, tugging my hand. “Cast makes Theo do push ups for breaking the rule of not drinking syrup from the bottle.”
I rub my thighs together and sigh, that deep, reluctant sound that’s more show than sincerity. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
We race each other down the hallway—bare feet against wood, laughter chasing us like sunlight. I nearly trip on the last stair; he catches my arm, steadying me, both of us still laughing as we hit the landing. The air downstairs smells like toast, syrup, and something burning faintly in the distance—probably Damien attempting heroics with the griddle again.
The sound of the kids hits us before we even turn the corner—Rose protesting, Theo defending, Penny giggling like she’s the secret accomplice.
“You know I want to hear that scary voice later,” I whisper, still catching my breath.
Vincent smirks, pushing his sleeves up his sleep shirt sleeves. “You are asking for a spanking, aren’t you little devil?”
“Yes sir,” I wink, and he laughs.
But as he looks at me, the laughter still lingers on his lips, but it doesn’t quite make it to his eyes. The shine dulls—just for a moment, a shadow that moves behind his gaze like a thought he hasn’t spoken aloud. It’s there and gone, but it leaves a weight in my chest that wasn’t there a heartbeat ago.
My stomach sinks. I open my mouth to say something—anything—but before I can, Elise barrels into the room like a comet in socks, her curls flying.
“Mommy!” she squeals, and throws herself straight into my arms.
I catch her easily, her small body warm and solid against mine. She smells like syrup and strawberries, her laughter bubbling against my neck.
“Good morning, baby,” I whisper, holding her tight, burying my face in her hair for a second longer than I need to.
She pulls back just enough to look up at me, eyes bright, face lit with mischief. “Theo drank the syrup, and Pops said a bad word!”
Cast groans behind me. “I didnotsay a bad word.”
Theo’s voice pipes up from somewhere near the counter. “Healmostdid!”
Rose crosses her arms, chin high. “He saidhell, and that counts.”
Damien’s laugh rumbles from where he’s flipping pancakes. “Technically, she’s not wrong.”
“Technically,” Cast mutters, “you should stop encouraging them.”
“I’m teaching them vocabulary,” Damien says, perfectly serious.
“Well, you owe ten dollars for the swear jar!” Vincent calls as he pours two cups of coffee. “For today and yesterday.”
“You’re a snitch,” Cast scoffs, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Want to make it fifteen?” Vincent teases wiggling his eyebrows at him.
“How about twenty?” Cast tilts his head to the side, the vein in his neck pulling taunt and that’s how I know he is doing his kid friendly version of I-am-about-to-punch-Vincent-in-the-face look.
“Alright you two!” I call, slipping between Cast’s legs and leaning against his chest. “You people have entirely too much energy in the morning.” I mutter as he presses a kiss to my temple.
Damien slides a plate in front of me with a smirk. “Eat your snowman, and drink up a cup of coffee. We are leaving in an hour.”
