Page 63 of The Sculptor

He sighs, raking his hands through his hair. “I didn’t know what to think. It all happened so fast. I just wanted to protect you.”

“And now?”

He grins. “Now, you can protect yourself.”

“You’re a liar.” There’s no way he suddenly let all those alpha tendencies go.

“You’re right.” He grins. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be true. I wanted us to live in this bubble full of hope a little while longer.”

My heart flutters. “So, you think the death certificate is a fake?”

Duke leans over the console. “I know it’s a fake.”

“How?” Those flutters in my chest turn into full-on pounding against my ribs. “How do you know it’s a fake?”

This man—this freaking beautiful soul—presses his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss. “Because a mother knows, and I’ll trust her intuition over a stranger’s signature any day.”

“How can you not have a Christmas tree in one of these closets?”

Shockingly, my husband isn’t naked. Instead, he lounges on the sofa, watching me with an amused smile as I familiarize myself with his house’s eleven billion storage closets.

“I never needed one,” he answers, like it’s just that simple.

“So, you haven’t had a tree since our last Christmas together?” The one where we counted the weeks until our son arrived.

He shakes his head solemnly.

“What did you do Christmas morning?” Since he didn’t date in the fall and winter, that had to be excruciatingly lonely.

“Slept through the morning until Astor made us go to lunch as a family.”

Ah, Astor. The nicer brother of the two. “How is Astor?”

A smile stretches across Duke’s face. “Annoyed but happy.”

“Annoyed?” Giving up, I plop down onto his lap, letting him pull me into his arms.

“Yeah.” He laughs. “Apparently, his girl has been challenging. But that could just be Vance speculating. You know he thinks anyone is challenging when they don’t do what he wants.”

Yes, yes, he does.

“Did I tell you Astor is a father now?”

“No!”

He nods, nuzzling my neck. “Yep, her name is Tatum. She’s gotta be two months old now.”

He speaks of the little girl so reverently that it hurts my heart that he never got to see our son at that age.

“Maybe I could meet them soon? I’d love to meet your niece and possibly smooth things over with Vance.”

Astor has always been a big teddy bear. I’m not worried about that Potter—just the hateful one.

Duke chuckles. “Now, the way to Vance’s good graces is through Halle.”

“His girlfriend?”

“And Astor’s assistant.”

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