My phone buzzes in my pocket again, and I forget why I always bring that shit with me. It’s annoying, even on “vibrate.” I glance over at Lark and Olive.

It’s work.

Fuck.

Coach keeps bugging me, telling me I need to get the fuck back to the ring where I belong. But this is where I belong.

Olive and Lark hold their arms out trying to balance on the logs they’re walking on. This beach is clear and beautiful, even with some washed up debris. They’re smiling and happy, and that’s all that matters.

I unlock my phone and glance over the texts briefly. Seven missed calls. I ignore them all. I have a match coming up, apparently. But I always have a match coming up. I don’t care.

“Axel!” A little voice calls to me.

I put my phone back in my shorts—I should have left it in the villa—and look up to see my precious daughter smiling at me. She’s about to jump down from the log she’s on. It’s only a few feet up, but she’s so small I worry she’s going to hurt herself.

So I jog across the sand and open my arms to catch her as she jumps to me. I catch her, and she giggles some more.

I’ve never been much for the sound of children’s laughter, but hers is beautiful. I hug her tight and when I see Olive watching us I wave to her. She walks over to join us, beaming.

My phone keeps vibrating.

“Who’s that?” Olive smiles. She nuzzles her head against my chest, and I press my chin down against the top of her head. My arms go under hers and I hold her close. I drop one hand to grab Lark’s though, and she coos—I could never forget her.

She wasn’t in my life for three years. Olive wasn’t, either, but I was searching for her. I never knew about Lark. Now that I’ve got them, I’m not going to let either of them go. Ever.

“No one.” I kiss her forehead, and slide my hand down so I can hold her hand too.

“Now.” I pull away from them both and flash a grin, making my daughter giggle again. Olive just rolls her eyes, bumping against my shoulder with her shoulder with pretend agitation.

“Hey.” I bump her back and make eye contact with Lark. “I thought we were going swimming.”

Lark squeals, and the phone call is forgotten.

My toes dig deeper into the sand, and I consider throwing my phone into the water. For fuck’s sake, Coach keeps calling me.

I tell myself it doesn’t matter, but it does.

Olive grabs my hand, initiating contact before I can.

“Hey.” I grab her hand, tighter, pulling her entire body to me. We’re sitting on a bench, just having left the beach. All three of us are wet. We just threw our clothing on over our swimsuits, and the people who sit on the bench after us probably aren’t going to be too happy, but I don’t worry about that.

“That’s my job,” I say, squeezing her hand and reminding her that I’m always the one to go after her first, even when she pushes me away.

“Whatever,” she says, but her voice is quiet and her lips turn up into that small smile that tells me she’ll do as I ask. Lark runs over and dives across both of our laps.

“Ouch.” I feign pain, and they both laugh. Maybe if I keep up the humor, neither of them will notice anything is wrong. But Lark turns her head to me and starts tugging at my sleeve, and all the comments I’ve heard about how smart children are run through my head.

“Let’s get some ice cream,” I suggest.

“Is there ice cream this far out in Santorini?” Olive’s eyebrows crinkle and she looks at me, wondering where I’m going with this. I just shrug as Lark squeals, knowing that there’s a few things people love, and ice cream is universally one of them. Usually. I wonder if Lark’s favorite is strawberry, like Olive’s was when we were kids. I wonder if Olive’s favorite is still strawberry and if she still hates chocolate with a passion.

“Probably.” I grab Lark off of my lap and carry her, looking at Olive for a second before I grab her too and throw her over my other shoulder. It’s only a minute walk into town, and based on the way Olive throws her hands against my back, I can tell she loves it.

If only this could last forever …

When we get back to the villa, it’s late. We pass off Lark to Selena, and then walk up the stairs to our room. Olive is tired, too, her arms reaching out to me for cuddles.

“Today was wonderful.” She closes her eyes as she stretches out on the bed. She’s gorgeous, and I want nothing more than to climb on top of her and feel her body mold with mine. I lean over the side of the bed toward her body so that my chest lightly brushes against hers.

“It was.” I kiss her forehead, but suddenly her eyebrows crinkle together.

“You were distant all day, Axel.” Her hands bunch together in my shirt and she reaches for me, trying to pull me close to her. I can’t let her. I take my hands and place them on her shoulders, keeping her away from me, no challenge considering how much stronger I am than she is.

“I know, baby, I’ll make it up to you.” I rub her shoulder lightly. “It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

Out lips meet in a deep, sweet kiss full of promises. I want her to know I’ll stay with her forever. From the way she was looking at me, I can tell she thought I was going to leave.

That will never happen. Ever.

“What’s going on?” She opens her eyes again, this time putting both of her hands in my hair as her fingers rake over my scalp. I feel a shiver through my spine and my cock hardens, and all I can think about is taking her now.

But I can’t.

It twitches, and she notices. She’s stripped down from her swimsuit and lying in her bra and underwear under the sheets beneath me. I’m still in my shorts, long-since-dry but clinging to my body from how wet they were after being in the ocean for hours.

“Axel …” she whispers so softly I have to strain to hear. Then she bites her lip wantonly, and I know she wants my cock. Just like I want her pussy desperately. “What’s bothering you?”

I growl, grabbing both of her arms and turning her body so that I hold them behind her back. I take another hand and push her head gently to the pillow, almost like she’s sleeping.

“Nothing. I’ll tell you in the morning.” I nip at her neck, kissing her lightly and nibbling against her skin. Comforting her, but letting her know what I want …

“I’m wet. Not like you,” I tease her, pulling myself away from her body as she trembles beneath me. “I need to go change.”

“Okay,” she says, not moving from where I placed her, and I like that.

God, I love her.

I get up, acting like I’m turning the corner of our room to go to the walk-in closet just down the hall. I don’t feel great about sneaking around behind her back like this, but it’s not like I’m cheating.

I walk down the stairs as quietly as I can and sneak out the door, pulling out my phone to finally listen to the voicemails—nine of them now—from Coach Parker.