Their Boy (The Game 2)

Lucas’s eyes flashed with a bit of mirth. “Ten? You’re allowed to keep a few, you know.”

“I have thirty-one,” I replied frankly.

Colt coughed on whatever he was chewing, and he reached for his beer.

Lucas grinned faintly and gave my leg a squeeze under the table. “Why don’t you go on to the next item on your list?”

All righty. “Number two,” I said, reading off the note, “I am going to take over laundry duty at home.”

“That’s a bold one, dear,” Lucas chuckled. “I don’t let Colt do ours. He’s ruined too many of my shirts.”

“I fold fitted sheets like a fuckin’ king,” Colt retorted. “That’s enough.”

Lucas didn’t argue with that.

His hand traveled farther up my leg as I read number three.

“I’m going to increase my activity in our online community again.”

Lucas was quick to respond. “I think that’s an excellent goal. Clearly, you read what’s on there, but you haven’t left a mark in years.”

True. My profile was a ghost town. Something I scanned through every once in a while to see how confident I used to be. Okay, not confident, but nothing like I was now. I used to have a backbone and a voice I wasn’t too shy to use.TenI had a stomachache.

I should not have ordered a second serving of the mashed potatoes.

Lucas had warned me, but…

“Does anything catch your interest?” he asked me.

I was pretending to read the dessert menu.

“I, um…I’m not sure…” I shifted carefully in my seat and withheld a wince. It felt like someone was stabbing me in the stomach. “I suppose I am kind of full.”

Lucas took on an expression of concern. “Is everything all right? You look a bit pale.”

I took a short breath and nodded once. “Yes, Sir. I’m just full.”

Full of five tapas dishes and three big glasses of Coke. Heavens, this was agony.

Colt leaned forward in his seat, and he was watching me pensively. “Remember we talked about honesty, Kit?”

Fuck.

I swallowed hard and dropped my gaze, and the increasing pain was ripping my composure away from me. It hurt so much that a cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

“I didn’t mean to ruin the date,” I mumbled, putting down the menu. “I’m sorry.” Why did I have to ruin everything? I’d already crossed a line earlier when I got grouchy with Colt. Ouch. I flinched at a particularly sharp stab, and I discreetly wrapped my arms around my middle.

“Sweetheart, you’re in pain.” Lucas leaned over and felt my forehead. “Why didn’t you say something?” He turned to Colt. “Can you take care of the check? I’ll bring Kit outside for some fresh air.”

Colt nodded and looked out over the restaurant, presumably to flag down our server, and Lucas got out of his seat.

“We can address the nonsense about you supposedly ruining our date later,” Lucas said, extending a hand. “Come here.”

I was too weak to argue. I let him guide me through the restaurant, but holding his hand stopped being enough. By the time we reached the sidewalk, I was clutching his arm and had my eyes screwed shut.

“My stomach hurts, Daddy,” I whimpered.

“I know, little one. I know.” He found us a somewhat secluded spot next to the building and carefully hugged me to him. “Our hotel is not far from here. You know what I suggest?”

I sniffled and shook my head.

“A long night of cuddles and watching movies in bed. How does that sound?”

Tears spilled over as the last of my self-control disappeared from me. “I-I want that,” I cried. “But I didn’t bring a toothbrush.”

He chuckled softly and pressed his lips to my hair. “I think we can work something out.”

I sniffled again and wiped at my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you earlier.”

“It’s okay, dear. I fear you’re paying for it now.” He slipped a hand between us and unbuttoned the top button of my pants. And that small thing brought me so much relief. “I’ve discovered you eat with your eyes more than usual. Do you never go out to restaurants?”

I half shrugged and shook my head. He’d probably noticed that when we went out for ice cream too. The way I picked too many toppings, how I ate—I ate fast when it was really good—and that I didn’t quite know when to stop.

I’d gotten a brain freeze four times.

I decided it was best to go with a joke at my own expense. “I guess I’m too excited to finally have a life.”

Lucas didn’t laugh. He caressed my stomach under my shirt and hummed against the top of my head.* * *They said it was only a five-minute walk to their hotel, but it was excruciating nonetheless. I had to walk so slowly, and the pain kept growing, that I contemplated calling Vincent.

Colt glanced back at me at one point and furrowed his brow. “You’re hidin’ again. Why do you feel the need to keep your wits about yourself?”