Page 12 of Inked Daddies

Us.

The word hits me harder than it should, and I blink back the sudden sting of tears. “I don’t want to be the girl who needs saving,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Hugo leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze steady and unflinching. “You’re not. You’re the girl whogot saved because three idiots couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to her.”

I laugh softly, the sound shaky and uneven, but it’s better than crying. “You’re not idiots.”

“Well, Trick might be,” he says with a small grin, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Marie.”

The sound of Sam’s voice makes my smile falter, and I glance toward the doorway to see him standing there, his expression unreadable. He’s got that same intensity in his eyes that he always does, like he’s responsible for everything and doesn’t trust anyone else to hold it.

“Hey,” I say softly, my voice catching in my throat.

He steps into the room, his gaze flicking to Hugo before settling back on me. “You alright?”

It’s hard to breathe with all of them checking on me. I nod, even though I know it’s not the answer he’s looking for.

Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair, and for a moment he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. Tired. Worn. Like tonight took something out of him that he wasn’t prepared to give. And that’s my fault.

“You don’t have to take me home,” I say quickly, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “I’m fine. Really. You’ve done enough.”

Sam’s eyes narrow slightly, and he shakes his head. “You think we’re just going to let you drive home after what happened? You’d wreck in the swamp.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I mutter, pulling the blanket tighter around me.

“No,” he agrees. “But you need someone.” The words hang in the air between us, heavy and undeniable.

For a long moment, none of us say anything. Then Trick appears in the doorway, breaking the silence with his usual irreverent grin. “Alright, I’m officially bored,” he announces, flopping onto the couch beside me and throwing an arm over the back. “Somebody tell me what we’re doing next.”

I glance at him, my heart twisting at how effortlessly charming he is, even now.

“We’re taking her home,” Sam says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“If you want to be boring about it,” Trick shoots back, his grin widening. “I was just about to suggest we all take a nice, relaxing walk around the block, maybe find a nice spot for a picnic. You know, let off some steam together.” He winks.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me.

“See?” Trick says, nudging me with his elbow. “She gets it. Laughter is the best medicine, right?”

“Not when the patient’s still in shock,” Hugo mutters, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

They’re ridiculous. All of them. And yet somehow, sitting here with them, I feel a little bit better. A little less alone. It’s not enough to erase the fear or the lingering tension in my chest, but it’s enough to remind me why I’ve always wanted them.

Because I do want them.

I’ve wanted them since I was a teenager, since before I even understood what wanting really was. And now, after tonight, I know I’m never going to stop. But I also know I can’t let them see it.

Because no matter how much I want them, no matter how much I ache to know what it would feel like to kiss them, to touch them, to let them in—I can’t.

Preachers’ daughters don’t fall for the bad guys. And they definitely don’t fall for three of them at the same time.

“Let’s take you home, Marie,” Sam says with half a smile.

Somehow, my brain picks the dumbest possible thing to say. “But I didn’t get to sit on your fancy chair.”

He snorts a laugh, and the other two join him. “I promise you can tomorrow.”

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