They’re absolutely breathtaking.
So much so, it takes me a second to realize there’s a third couple. My heart convulses when I see the tall, slender woman. She’s holding an infant in her arms and a man is hovering beside her.
He’s gorgeous, but he has a sort of lean, athletic grace that separates him from the other men in the room.
I can’t put my finger on why, exactly—they’re all in good shape, all can clearly handle themselves.
But there’s something about the man with curly hair and the way he fills out a pair of jeans that makes it clear he’s not a businessman…or someone with military experience, like Pascal.
The baby makes a tiny squawk and all the men freeze.
A moment later, the man with curly hair has scooped up the baby and is rocking it, the first man, Jace, and Pascal all shifting closer, as though ready to jump in and take over at the first inclination that something’s gone wrong.
The only male who seems marginally less concerned is Brooks, though his attention goes to the baby all the same.
Why do I know—know—the little one already has every single one of these men wrapped around his or her little finger?
“Hi,” I hear and tear my gaze away from Brooks in proximity to the baby.
And the yearning it creates.
And the pain.
“Hi,” I say, shoving that down and shaking the proffered hand of the woman in the business attire.
“I’m Marie,” she says.
“Oh,” I exclaim. “Jace’s wife. It’s so nice to meet you. He talked about you a lot.”
“Hopefully about all the good things and none of the annoying ones I do.”
I open my mouth?—
“You could never annoy me,” Jace says, kissing the top of her head and slinging an arm around her shoulders.
“Hmm,” she replies, clearly teasing as she taps a finger to her bottom lip. “I seem to remember a certain level ofannoyancewhen I wanted to watchDate My Exinstead of playoff hockey.”
“AndIseem to recall you finding a way to make me less annoyed.”
Pink on her cheeks. “Behave.”
“Never.”
“I’m Tiff,” I hear from my side as I’m trying to survive the impact of Jace so in love with his wife and the mix of emotions I feel.
I’m so damned happy for him.
And I’m jealous.
“Briar,” I say, shaking her hand.
“You know Jace and now Marie,” she murmurs. “The big guy holding the baby is Rome and his wife is Chrissy?—”
She nods at the other brunette, though I already knew who she is from that night at the winery. My heart thunders, trying to pound its way out of my chest, leaving me a little breathless and lightheaded.
When Chrissy puts the pieces together…
“—and the scowly monster debating on snatching the baby from Rome is my husband, Jean-Michel.”
