Page 102 of A Game Plan for Love

“I want to sleep with you and Mommy,” she whispers, eyes flickering to Addie while she snores.

Wordlessly, I slide to make room between Addie and me, and Nora crawls over me to burrow into the space. Her knee lands in my gut, and I have to muffle a groan.

She nestles into my side, and I pull the covers over her. “Better?”

“Mhm.” I find a comfortable position when she says, “I love you.”

I place a kiss on the top of her forehead. “I love you, too, Nora. Goodnight.”

It’s not until sleep begins to drag me under—a heavy fog over my mind—that Nora responds with words I convince myself I imagined. “Night, Daddy.”

CHAPTER 30

Mess Is Mine – Vance Joy

Declan

Addie’sfreckledkneebouncesrapidly in the passenger seat of my car, her sage green sundress swaying with the action. She’s been a nervous wreck since we stopped at home to change.

“Your tits look fucking great.”

Her knee pauses movement, and wild eyes meet mine with a massive, disbelieving smile. My lips tug up in a smile.

There’s the smile I love.

“What?” I feign nonchalance. “They do.”

We hit a stoplight and I let my gaze linger. Her soft, pale skin flushes a strawberry hue, and she smacks my bicep.

“Stop,” she chastises, but her rosy cheeks and hooded eyes tell a different story.

“You’re beautiful, baby.” I stretch an arm to swirl a strand of hair around my finger. She reaches up and takes my hand, placing a kiss on my palm.

“Thank you. You’re not too shabby, either.”

I huff a soft laugh. “Don’t be coy. I’ve seen you ogle my arms at least half a dozen times.”

“Why are they so hot?” She sighs wistfully. “It’s illogical how turned on I get when you flex them.”

She squeezes my right bicep for good measure, fingers dancing along my skin. The energy in the car turns from playful to dreadful the moment I pull into the parking garage a block from the restaurant.

I open her door, and she smooths out nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. Nerves radiate off her.

“Need one more squeeze for courage?” I turn my bicep toward her, and her grip is deadly.

“That’s good, She-Hulk.” I rip my bicep away and intertwine our fingers. “Let's get some food.”

Her hand tightly grips mine as we walk into the small Italian restaurant her parents selected. The lights are low in the space, creating an intimate ambiance, and as the hostess guides us to the table in the back corner of the restaurant, her fingers begin to tremble.

“Say the word, and we leave,” I whisper as we stop at the table. Her posture is rigid as she meets her parents’ gaze. Her mother is a spitting image of Addie—Auburn hair and hazel eyes. Her lips are pulled in an uncomfortable smile, but she looks at her daughter with fondness and longing.

Her father has a head of thick blonde hair and deep blue eyes that swirl with wariness as he assesses me. I pull my shoulders back as if to sayI’m not intimidated.

“Hi,” Addie croaks.

I pull out a chair for her, then sit beside her and take her hand between mine and set it on my lap. Nerves radiate off her, and I swipe a thumb against the back of her hand to soothe the worry.

“We’re glad you agreed to meet with us,” Addie’s mom starts, voice squeaking at the end.

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