The Godparent Trap

He sighed. “Messy reminds the frog of chaos, and chaos, after living in that pond… it makes him scared. Most frogs over the age of thirty are set in their ways, you know…”

I’d completely forgotten we were trying to tell a bedtime story, which was just as well, since I noticed that both Ben and Viera had fallen asleep in Ben’s bed.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you’d be the one to bore someone to sleep…,” Rip whispered.

“You helped, math wizard.”

“Low blow,” he growled.

I liked it.

A lot.

The rasp from his voice. The way he stared into my soul. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” He slowly pulled Viera into his arms and carried her to her room. I followed behind them and waited for him in the hallway. After what seemed like a lifetime, he reappeared, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“The frog story,” I blurted out. “Did you mean what you said?”

He leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes flashing. “What do you think?”

Slowly he made his way over to me, one step, two, and then pain flashed across his face.

I dodged a Lego and clapped my hand over his mouth. “Wake them up, and I’m coming for you in your sleep!”

His eyes lit up.

“You’re such a guy,” I hissed.

He pulled my hand away from his mouth and kissed the inside of my wrist, then pinned me against the hallway wall. “I want you.”

I stuck my chin out in a defiant gesture. “Give me one good reason why you should have me.”

Maybe bad chicken also makes me confident. I wanted him to say all the right things, things I needed to hear to know that this was real. That we were real.

“Because you terrify me. You make me want to color outside of the lines, which I hate. You’re an incredible aunt. You’re a loyal friend. Because you’re beautiful even when you’re walking around with ketchup on your shirt. Because it bothers me that you don’t see how unique you are, how special it is to be included in your circle. And finally because I’ve tasted…” He nipped at my lips. “I’ve drunk…” He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine. “And I fell.”

I was panting from one stupid kiss. I clung to his shirt, my eyes zeroing in on his perfectly muscular chest. “I don’t work out.”

“I know.”

“Kissing me won’t stop me from annoying you ninety-nine percent of the time, you know.”

“No.” He kissed me again and pulled back. “But it does get you to shut the hell up.”

He kissed away any protest I could have had as he lifted me into the air and carried me further down the hall.

He was taking me into his room.

Rip was kissing me and taking me into his room.

And I wasn’t daydreaming.

And we weren’t fighting—much.

And it felt right. Everything about that moment felt right.

So I let myself fall into it.

I let myself trust Rip.