Page 107 of If Love Had A Manual

Rosie watches with wide eyes before she begins bouncing wildly in my arms, urging me to move.

Lena points at me, laughing. “Come on, Wes. You want to stay? You dance.”

She’s somehow turned my worst nightmare into something I crave. This. A family dancing in the living room on a Saturday morning just because they can.

“Pretty sure this violates your contract.”

She spins, hands in the air, that throaty laugh spilling out of her as she twirls again.

Yeah, we both know that contract is only good for ripping up now.

I look up at the ceiling and shake my head, but the smile’s already pulling at my mouth.

Rosie starts bouncing harder.

“Jesus,” I mutter, giving in. “Tyrants. Both of you.”

The song changes toFriday I’m In Love. Lena’s head falls back as she spins again, her grin wide and brown eyes shining. She’s pure light in my living room. And I am so thoroughly fucked.

My feet start moving—grudgingly at first—but Rosie’s giggles spur me on, and before long, I’m spinning her in a wide circle. Her head lolls as laughter bursts from her.

Stopping, I reach out and grab Lena’s hand. Hereyes flick to mine as I tug her in, spinning her beneath my arm.

She laughs as she twirls, my shirt rising even more, those endless legs doing things to my brain that should be illegal this early in the day.

When she comes out from the spin, her chest presses flush against mine, and she steadies herself with a hand on my shoulder. Her smile falters, just slightly.

Because even through laughter and music and the baby wedged between us, that spark is still there.

Hot.

Undeniable.

And I don’t know how much longer I can pretend it’s not about to burn me alive.

Thirty-Nine

Ilean against the counter, watching her hum softly under her breath as she flips pancakes, unaware of how intently my eyes are fixed on her.

All I want to do is drag her back upstairs, pull that damn T-shirt off her, and bury myself inside her again.

But the phone she’s been ignoring for the past ten minutes keeps buzzing. She lets out a frustrated huff and silences it completely.

I raise a brow in question, but she won’t meet my eyes. “You should probably get that.”

“It’s my father.”

That pulls me up short, but it rings again.

“Damn it. He wouldn’t be this persistent if something weren’t wrong.”

She swipes to answer, pacing as she lifts the phone to her ear.

“Hello... What?” She glances at me. “I was busy.” A pause. “Since when?... No, she hasn’t called me. Have you tried calling her?” Her fingers tighten around the phone. “Okay, I’m only asking. I’ll call her now. Imight know where she is.”

She barely hangs up before she’s moving, heading straight for the stairs at a pace that has every nerve in my body firing.

I follow hot on her heels.

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