Chapter three
Logan
May
“Asher!” I shout, barrelingafter my two and half year old as he weaves his way through a crowd. “Goddammit! Get back here!”
A devilish laugh floats through the air making my jaw tick. We’re in a busy place, anything could happen. He could fall and get hurt. Or, Christ, someone could snatch his cute ass up and we’d never see him again. Anxiety twists my gut and my quick walk turns to a run.
“Sorry!” I call as my big shoulder collides with some guy’s.
He shifts his kid in his arms and gives me an irritated look. But as I snatch Asher up, barely catching his tiny frame by his plaid jacket, his expression shifts to one of solidarity.
“I hate fairs,” he mutters just as his daughter shoves her cotton-candy-filled fist directly in his mouth. My brows go high and I have to work hard to bite back a laugh, especially when she licks his sticky cheek.
Poor guy.
I flick my gaze to Asher and narrow my eyes.
Poor me.
“You’re in so much trouble,” I rumble, tucking him against my hip as I weave our way back to Shiloh. Ash gives me a big puppy dog pout and I scoff, shaking my head. “Nope. Not gonna work. You’re in time out for running away in a dangerous place like this.”
His little red brows smoosh together. “It’s a fair, Daddy.” He points to a laughing family petting a cow. “It’s super-dooper safe.”
“Super-dooper, hmm?”
My eyes scan the busy field for my wife and other son, finding them perched on a bench under a massive oak. I smile, shoving my way through the masses to get to them.
“So safe!” Ash shouts, bouncing in my arms. His little hands smack my cheeks, pulling my attention toward him. “Daddy, I only wanted to go see the firefuck.”
I stumble mid-step. “See thewhat?”
His cheeks turn pink in indignation. “The firefuck!” he cries, pointing somewhere behind me. “The big, red firefuck.”
Pressing my finger to his lips, I scan our surroundings, shooting an apologetic look at a woman with two young kids next to us.
“It’s firetruck, buddy,” I correct, slowly annunciating the word as I continue toward our family.
My lips twitch, though. I can’t help it. My wife and I make damn cute kids. With light, freckled skin, blue eyes, and red hair, the Huxley genes are strong in the twins. But their mouths, their sassy personalities—it’s all Shiloh.
A twinge of longing pulses through me. I hope our some-day daughter looks just like her mama. My heart clenches as I meet my woman’s eyes. Shiloh is stunning, not just physically, but her heart, her mind, and soul. She’s incredible to me in every damn way.
My eyes slide down her body, taking in her outfit. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt that says Mama Bear, a fitted camo jacket and a pair of jeans that makes me want to die in the best way. With her long hair pulled up in a high ponytail and her pink converse, she looks adorable. But as she pushes to her feet and bends to pick Archer up, a low groan escapes me.
A guy taking a phone call nearby notices and his eyes go directly to her ass. He licks his lip, ending his phone call, and moves toward her.
Hell the fuck no!
My groan turns to a growl that has Ash laughing, but I’m too busy charging forward to notice. I slip behind Shiloh, blocking the asshole's view, and not-so discreetly palm her ass. Shiloh shoots upright, tucking Arch into her chest and whirls on me. She blinks rapidly, her tan cheeks turning a lovely shade of red.
“Logan!” she whisper-hisses. “We’re in public!”
I smirk down at her and pull her against my chest. Her thick ass lines up perfectly with my dick and I have to actively tell the fucker to calm down. She’s right. We’re in public, in a family place.
All the more reason for that fucker to keep his goddamned eyes to himself.
I shoot him a glare, mouthingmineand press a kiss to her forehead.
