Page 26 of Silver Fox's Secret Triplets
"What do you love most about yours?" I asked, genuinely curious. She rarely talked about her childhood, and I found myself hungry for these glimpses into who she was beneath all the careful walls she'd built.
"Mom's laugh," she said without hesitation. "It's completely ridiculous and too loud for restaurants, but it's genuine. And Dad's hands. They're always moving when he talks, sketching buildings in the air. He can't help himself." She paused, her voice growing softer. "What about your family?"
"I don't have much left," I admitted. "My parents died when I was thirty. But I remember Sunday dinners at their house. My mother would cook for hours, and my father would tell the same stories every week. We'd all groan and roll our eyes, but secretly we loved the predictability of it."
"Is that what you want? Someday?"
The was weighted with possibility. "I used to think I was too old for all that. Too set in my ways." I tightened my armsaround her. "But being here with you… it makes me think about different futures."
She was quiet for so long I thought she might have fallen asleep. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible. "Duncan, you're quite possibly the most amazing man I've ever met. But what would my parents think if they knew about this? About us?"
"They'd probably be shocked at first," I said honestly. "But your father isn't a horrible prude, Ivy. He'd understand once he saw how much I care about you."
"You sound very confident about that."
I hesitated, knowing I was about to reveal something that might change everything between us. "I made him a promise once. About you."
She stiffened in my arms. "What kind of promise?"
"After the scandal, when you were still a teenager, he asked me to stay away from you. To never cross that line." The words tasted bitter in my mouth. "I gave him my word."
To my surprise, she began to laugh. Not the bitter sound I expected, but something warm and delighted. "You're sneaking around too," she said, lifting herself up to look at me. "Here I thought you were this serious, controlled businessman, and you're being as childish as I am."
Her amusement was infectious, and I found myself grinning back at her. "I suppose we're both rule breakers now."
"Do you feel guilty about breaking the promise?"
"I should," I said, reaching up to cup her face. "But I made that promise before I knew what an incredible woman you'd become. Before I understood what I'd be giving up." My thumb traced across her lower lip. "I care about you, Ivy. More than I've cared about anyone in years. I don't want to miss out on the opportunity for something real between us, even if it risks my friendship with Bill."
The vulnerability in my voice surprised even me. I'd spent so many years keeping my emotions locked away, but with her, the walls seemed to crumble without effort.
Her eyes darkened, and I saw desire flicker there again. "That's incredibly sexy," she whispered, leaning down to brush her lips against mine. "The honesty. The willingness to risk everything."
"Is it?" I asked, my hands sliding down to rest on her hips.
"Mmm." She pressed closer, and I could feel her body responding to mine again. "It makes me want to be even more naughty with you."
My pulse quickened. "What did you have in mind?"
She grinned, suddenly playful in a way that made my chest tight with affection. "Some really bad things. But only if you promise not to let me get caught."
"I promise," I said, meaning it completely.
She rose gracefully, gathering her clothes and dressing quickly. And before she walked away she paused at the edge of the blanket, looking back at me with eyes full of mischief and promise. "And Duncan?"
"Mmm?"
"I don't think you're bad for breaking that promise…."
I watched her slip through the shadows toward the house, my heart pounding with anticipation and something deeper. Something that felt dangerously close to love.
I took my time gathering our things and cleaning myself up, wanting to give her enough space to get inside safely. The wine glasses from earlier caught the moonlight as I collected them, along with the blanket we'd shared. Everything felt charged with significance, as if these simple objects had become sacred somehow.
But as I made my way across the driveway toward my car, disaster struck. One of the glasses slipped from my hands,shattering against the concrete with a sound that seemed to echo through the quiet night.
Above me, a window opened with a sharp squeak.
"Who's out there?" Bill's voice carried clearly through the darkness.
