“People might be looking.”
“People can mind their own fucking business,” I rasp,kissing her again. “You came back to us. You think I give a flying fuck who sees me kiss you? Besides, they’re all family and friends. They’ll see us kiss plenty at our wedding.”
She pulls back again, and I chase her, letting out a desperate growl at being denied.
“What?”
“You said you’re staying in New York,” I explain in response to her shocked expression.
“I—”
“Tate. If you’re coming back, then be assured, I will not fuck up again,” I say with conviction.
Her eyes widen.
“I’m not making that mistake again. You’ll be my wife…One day,” I add, to ease her into the idea, even though my mind is already formulating a plan to make that day as soon as fucking possible.
She blinks before laughing. But stops abruptly as she studies me.
“You’re serious?”
“Have you ever known me not to be?”
Her mouth drops open but before she can answer, a small tornado dressed in tulle runs over and crashes into us.
“Tate!”
I hoist Molly up into one arm. The beautiful smile on her face makes my chest fit to bursting.
“That’s right, Sweetheart. Tate came. And aren’t we happy to see her?” I wind my other arm around Tate’s waist and pull her closer.
Molly nods eagerly and holds her arms out. Tate moves closer so she can wrap them around her neck.
My grip on them both tightens as they embrace, protected inside my arms.
My girls.
“Dance, Daddy?” Molly asks sweetly, her eyes bouncing between me and Tate.
“Absolutely.” I smile at her.
“Go on. I’ll…” Tate gestures to a table with some empty seats by it.
I arch a brow at her as I say to Molly, “You want to dance with both of us, don’t you, Sweetheart?”
“Yay!” Molly claps her hands in delight.
Tate’s eyes shine as I tip my head toward the dance floor. “Shall we?”
I take Tate’s hand, keeping Molly held in my arm as I lead us in-between dancing couples. I turn and pull Tate into me, holding her close with my hand on her lower back.
She slides one hand up around my collar, placing the other around Molly.
The band moves into a cover of Ed Sheeran’s “All of the Stars”, and Molly rests her head against my shoulder, gazing at Tate with a magical smile, made all the sweeter by the innocence in it as Tate sings the words of the song softly to her.
I hold them both in my arms.
And we dance.
