Theywere everything.
“Now, kiss,” Izzy ordered.
Don’t mind if I do.
“Izzy,” Bex scolded.
She shrugged her miniature shoulders and blinked up with big, doe-like eyes. “That’s what they do in the movies.”
Michael crossed to Bex and planted his hands on her hips, and it felt so damned right. “I love you,” he told her, then brushed his lips over hers, featherlight.
“Properly!” Izzy insisted.
“What would you know about ‘properly’?” Bex asked, just before Michael tugged her tightly against him and kissed her more deeply.
The pressure in his chest eased. He’d missed this. Missed her. They were perfect together, and he wished he could slip his tongue between her lips and ravage her mouth the way he wanted. But they had a captivated audience, so he drew back and smoothed a palm down the side of her face.
“I’m going to kiss you ‘properly’ once Izzy is in bed,” he promised, voice low.
She winked. “I’ll be waiting.”
Izzy tugged impatiently at their hands. “Can we have pie, please?”
Michael raised a brow. “Pie?”
Bex grinned. “We made pumpkin pie earlier. Want a slice?”
“I’d love one.”
They made their way to the kitchen, where Bex prepared three thick sandwiches, then cut three slices of pie and passed out plates to take to the dinner table. Together, the three of them sat at one end and made short work of the simple dinner and dessert. Afterward, they moved to the lounge and put on a movie. Near the end, Izzy dozed off, her head resting on Bex’s shoulder.
“Is she asleep?” Michael asked hopefully. Much as he adored her, he was itching to have Bex to himself.
“I’m awake,” Izzy mumbled. “When is Michael gonna move in?”
Bex and Michael exchanged startled looks. Talk about moving quickly. But then, while he hadn’t given a lot of thought to the matter, he wasn’t opposed to living with them in the near future. He watched Bex’s expressive eyes as they flickered through the same range of emotions as him.
“Why is that, sweetie?” she asked, her voice impressively level.
Izzy lifted her head and blinked sleepily. “’Cause he makes better brunch than you.”
Bex’s mouth dropped open, and Michael guffawed, caught off guard. “Gotta love kids, they always tell it like it is.”
“Excuse me,” Bex muttered. “I make delicious brunch.”
“But he makes real pancakes with syrup and everything.”
At this, Bex shook her head, admitting defeat. “I guess I can’t argue with that.” She ruffled Izzy’s hair. “We’ll think about it. For now, let’s get you into your pajamas.”
“I can do it myself.” She slid off the sofa and hurried away before they could disagree.
“She’s very independent,” Michael said.
“That’s how I raised her.”
Standing, he offered a hand. When she took it, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. “God, I love you.”
She melted into him, her arms snaking around his lower back. “I love you, too.”