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“You only poll yourself,” Sin points out.

“And I always get the results I want,” she reasons. “My logic is flawless.”

Now that my story is no longer keeping her attention rapt, the birthday girl pushes up off the grass and toddles over to us, grabbing Sin’s leg and reaching her arms up for him.

“Dada, up, up,” she demands.

Sin releases Laurel and bends down, lifting Skylar into his arms. Her big, puffy dress covers his arm, but he still manages to look vaguely intimidating. That shouldn’t be possible with a cherub-cheeked baby in a cupcake dress in his arms, but here we are. He takes to this dad thing so naturally. “Did you like the story, shortcake?” he asks her.

Skylar nods her head, looking around, her gaze landing on the bounce castle. She points. “Jump.”

Laurel leans on Sin’s arm, adoration practically seeping from her pores as she smiles at Skylar. “You don’t know how to jump, silly girl. That’s here for the bigger kids to play on.”

Skylar scowls and points more adamantly. “Dada, jump, jump.”

Sin glances back over at the castle. “I’ll take her and let her roll around in it for a bit while none of the other kids are inside.”

“Pushover,” she accuses.

“It’s her birthday,” he says defensively.

Laurel leans in and kisses Skylar’s cheek, then she says, “I should probably go fetch our other child anyway.”

“Where is Nicky?” I ask, since the cute little prince went missing while I told his daddy’s fairytale.

“In the house with Mia. He was throwing a fit, so she offered to help,” Laurel tells me. “He settled right down. Now he’s madly in love with her.”

Rafe smirks. “Of course he is.”

“She’s an honest-to-god baby whisperer,” Laurel states. “She must be the Sin of her family.”

“I’ll go get him,” Rafe offers. “Is my cousin inside, too?”

“Your scary cousin?” Laurel questions. “Yes, he’s in there keeping an eye on things.”

“I’ll come with you,” I offer, sprinting to catch up to him. “I want to sit in the air conditioned house for a minute.”

Since the party is in the backyard, we come in through the back sliding glass doors. Bookshelves line the walls of this room, with comfy-looking furniture placed strategically and a brightly colored baby play center in the corner, presumably so Laurel has somewhere to put Nicky when she’s reading.

“Sin made her a nice library,” I comment.

“Not as nice as mine,” Rafe remarks.

“Of course not, Your Royal Highness.”

“I’m just saying. My library is objectively better.”

“You’ll have to show it to me sometime,” I tell him.

“That would require you stepping foot inside my house, and you avoid doing that now,” he points out.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I deny, feigning innocence. “I don’t avoid anything.”

There’s plenty of bottled water in ice-filled chests outside for guests, but I head into the kitchen and grab one out of the fridge. I uncap it and take a drink, but before I can screw the lid back on, Rafe steals it out of my hand and takes a swig.

I gape at him. “Excuse you.”

A smug, playful smile softens his perfect mouth. “This is mine now,” he informs me.


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