The worry my shoulders have been carrying all night lifts when Rylee’s dimples pop off her face from my finger tracing her cheek. She mumbles incoherently under her breath before slipping her stuffed bunny under her chin.

With the sun peeking through her hot pink curtains, I switch off her underwater-themed nightlight then head for the door. The nightlight was Savannah’s idea. With her fear of drowning passed on to Rylee, she’s hoping the introduction of water in her everyday life will help when we tackle swimming lessons next week.

I don’t like her chances. Rylee is as stubborn as her mother. It is lucky I love her just as much as I did Savannah at the same age. The first few weeks were rocky. Rylee was not impressed when I palmed her off to Mrs. Daphne. She didn’t speak to me for days, not even when I decorated the spare room in my apartment head to toe with stuffed animals and hideous pink bedspreads and cushions.

That is one way Rylee and Savannah are different. Rylee loves the girly stuff. She likes having her nails painted with bright pink polish, and if makeup is involved, she’s there with bells on.

That’s how I won her over. After sharing my dilemma with Izzy, she gave me some tips she used with Callie, her sister/somewhat daughter. Callie was smitten with Isaac, but she wasn’t too keen on Izzy at the start. By using the same persuasive techniques she shared with me, Izzy soon won Callie over.

Izzy’s advice was as solid as a gold nugget, because not only did I get back in Rylee’s good graces, I won over her mother as well. It was a win-win situation. I need an army when it comes to combatting Savannah’s stubbornness. Thankfully, Rylee accepted the rank with honor. She helped coerce Savannah into following our original plan we created the morning of Keifer’s unexpected arrival, citing the park next to my building as her reason for wanting to move.

It wasn’t the basis for her relocation. Rylee is as smart as she is cute. She knew her mom wanted to say yes, she was just too worried what people would think to stick it to the naysayers.

Rylee doesn’t have that hang-up.

Although Keifer is no longer an issue, he didn’t factor into our original plan. I had a decade of labored breathing to make up for. If Savannah had denied my suggestion, she wouldn’t have just dented my ego; my lungs would have suffered too.

Mercifully, Savannah gave in without too much convincing—thank god. If I were forced to use the persuasiveness I know she can’t fend off, I may have scarred Rylee for life. I already tickled her until she peed her pants, then dumped her on a stranger all within an hour, I really didn’t want scar her any more than I already had.

Savannah stops cuddling her pillow when she notices me entering our bedroom. The tiredness on her face matches mine. The past few months have been tough on all of us, but the brunt has been carried by Savannah. The woman I have admired since she was a girl took my admiration to a never-to-be-reached-again level last month. She not only faced her fears head on, she looked into the eyes of a monster as she testified about the horrific things he did to her.

There was not a dry eye in the courtroom when Savannah left the witness stand. Even my eyes were wet.

After a short trial, Keifer was sentenced to twenty-five-years to life. The counts against him are so astronomical, the chances of him ever being patrolled are slim to none. I was hoping the DA would push for the death penalty. That is the only reason I advised the fisherman surrounding me that there was another person in the car when I pulled Savannah from her watery grave for the second time in my life.

Fatal flaws by both Savannah and me four months ago were the cause of her near demise. With the tenseness of our night, Savannah forgot about the FBI agent scanning her fingerprint in the nationwide database. Then with my mind fritzing from all the disturbing information Savannah bombarded me with, I forgot about my call from the US Marshall two weeks earlier. Keifer added two plus two, and he reached four. That is how he tracked Savannah’s location so quickly.

Fortunately for me, Savannah never goes down without a fight.

After tugging off my jacket and loosening my tie, I crawl into bed. My sixteen-hour shift made me want to chase sleep nearly three hours ago. If it wasn’t for a break in Brax’s case, I would have succumbed to the petitions of my heavy eyelids. Three armed men jumped an employee of the tattoo parlor Brax is a part owner in. They fled with only minor possessions, but I can’t settle my curiosity in his case. Brax is my brother from another mother, but that’s not why I can’t hand off his case to officers below me. My intuition is telling me this is my case, I just haven’t figured out why yet.

“How’s Brax? Did you find the people responsible?” Savannah asks as her knees straddle my hips and her hands tackle the buttons of my dress shirt.

She’s not teasing me; she’s merely comforting me like she always does in a crisis.

It is a pity my cock didn’t get the memo.

The instant her breath fans my neck, I become acutely aware my body hasn’t figured out that I’m no longer a teenage boy with teenage issues. I swear to god, Savannah only needs to do a half-hearted hum, and my cock thickens to the point I could bounce a nickel off it.

Considering the circumstances of my night, this is wrong of me to admit, but Savannah and I tested the nickel theory. Don’t do it. It doesn’t hurt, but the laughing that follows the nickel’s bounce may sting your ego.

It did mine.

Lucky for me, Savannah’s lips soothed the sting in the best way possible. Even with her skills being as rusty as my truck when I brought her, Savannah gives better head than any woman I know.

Recalling where I’ve been the last four hours, I adjust the thickness in my pants before drawing Savannah off my chest so I can see her eyes. I need them to quell the unease swirling in my gut. I’ve only had this feeling twice before. It was the two times I had Savannah’s life in my hands.

“Was Brax hurt?” Savannah questions, confused by the deep groove between my brows.

I shake my head. “No. It’s just. . .” A sigh finishes my sentence. “Something about this case is off.”

Savannah chews on the corner of her lip, making her look as youthful as she does in my memories. “You don’t think it’s a standard mugging?”

I shake my head again. “Have you heard from Damon lately?”

The quick squeeze of Savannah’s thighs answers my question on her behalf.

Cocking my head to the side, I arch a brow. “You didn’t give him money again, did you?”

Guilt grows in Savannah’s eyes before she shakes her head. “Jet said that’s the worst thing I could do.”

“It is. If you’re not going to listen to my advice, you should listen to Jet.”

Miraculously, I keep jealousy out of my tone. That is a first. Savannah only sees Jet as a friend; Jet returns her friendship, but I’m confident if I weren’t in the picture, he’d be happy to fill my spot.

“Where did you see Damon?”

“Outside that little bakery in town. He wanted to talk to Rylee.” Savannah lifts her too-easy-to-forgive eyes to me. “He asked about you. He misses you, Ry.”

I want to believe her, but I know that isn’t the case. Damon didn’t just break the promise we made over a decade ago; he crumbled it to pieces. He is more like our father than he’s ever been, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him. Just like Chris, I’ll never give up on him; I just need him to put forth the same effort.

I run my hand down Savannah’s back, loving the boost of color it gives to her cheeks. “Did you give Damon the brochure I gave you?”

Her teeth graze her bottom lip as she nods. “He said your mom already gave it to him.”

“Ma gave him a drug counseling brochure?” Shock resonates in my tone.

Savannah smiles, wiping away my shit day in an instant. “Yeah. She’s getting better, Ryan. Maybe not at a pace suitable for everyone, but a step forward is better than a step back.” Her smile doubles, tripling the growth in my pants. “Did Brax tell you where he was planning to take Clara last night?”

The zeal in her voice shocks me. I haven’t heard her tone this high in months. Well, except when she’s screaming my name in ecstasy, but since I’m trying to ignore the rock in my pants, I’ll pretend I’m shocked.

When I shake my head, Savannah reveals, “Back to his apartment.”

My mouth gapes. “Brax doesn’t take girls back his apartment. That is the very first rule on his long list of many.”

“I know,” Savannah squeals, her voice piercing my eardrums. “That’s why I asked Mrs. Daphne for proof. Clementine had to show her how to work the camera on her phone, but there is no doubt Brax had a girl in his arms last night.”

She leans over to snag her cell off the bedside table to show me the proof firsthand. When she slams down onto my lap, we both freeze for a moment. If I weren’t wearing trousers, and she wasn’t wearing panties, we’d be. . .

No, don’t go there, Ryan. You are a grown man having an adult conversation with a woman you plan to marry one day. You are not an out-of-control teen.

Even Savannah thrusting a picture of Brax into my peripheral vision doesn’t dampen my excitement. The girl of my dreams is right here, directly in front of me.

I’d be a fool not to take advantage of the situation.

Faster than Savannah can snap her fingers, I swipe her wrists out from underneath her. She topples onto the mattress with a giggle, her fall softened by my outstretched hands. I’d never hurt her. . .not in a million years.

“Kiss me,” I demand, narrowing my mouth toward hers. The pout she makes shouldn’t turn me on, but it does.

“I’m not kissing you, Ryan. I have horrible morning breath.” She folds her arms under her breasts, thrusting her glorious tits that have grown a little bigger the past three months into my line of sight.

“Kiss me,” I demand again, tickling her, my fingers running more over the generous mounds on her chest than her actual ribs.

She arches her back. It is more for show than annoyance.

“Ryan!” Savannah squeals when I up the ante. “I swear to god, if you make me pee my pants, I won’t speak to you for a week.”

“I’ve had worst,” I jest, laughing.

I continue my onslaught, loving that it seems like we’ve stepped back in time. When I am with Savannah, I truly feel free of burden. I will always feel guilt for what happened to Chris. What I said to him when he killed himself will stay with me for eternity, but with Savannah’s help, I’ve realized Chris never intended to be here for the long haul. He wanted an out; I gave him one—it just wasn’t in the manner I had believed.

He didn’t want to leave his brother, so by me promising to look after Noah, he finally felt at peace with his decision. Was it the right one for him to make? No. Never. But I am glad he has found peace.

I’m drawn from my thoughts when a pair of smaller hands joins my campaign in tickling Savannah into submission. Rylee bombards her mother’s ribs, making sure she doesn’t press too hard on the little curve peeking out of Savannah’s pajamas.

The beautiful roundness of her stomach proves that wishes can come true. You’ve just got to put in the hard work first, because whether you have millions in your bank account or not even two nickels to rub together, life isn’t easy. Everything you want, you have to fight for. That includes love.

After placing a kiss on the two letter name scrawled on Savannah’s lower left hip, I continue tickling her ribs. Savannah claims she got her “Ry” tattoo in the weeks following Rylee’s birth as a commemoration, but she is as bad at lying as she is at saying no to Rylee. If it were solely for Rylee, she would have had gotten her whole name. It represents me as well.

By the time I’m hunched over with a stomach cramp from laughing so hard, Savannah’s face is as red as a beetroot. Happiness isn’t the cause of her inflamed cheeks, though. She looks moments away from murdering someone.

As she charges into the bathroom like a woman on a mission, my eyes swing to Rylee. “I think we made Mommy mad?”

Rylee grins an adorable dimpled smile before nodding.

“Should we make her something yummy for breakfast to make up for it?”

Her smile turns blinding.

“Alright, jump on.” She leaps onto my back before my offer is fully issued.

“What do you think your little brother will let mommy hold down this morning?” I ask Rylee as we giddy-up into my kitchen.

“Hmm. . .” When I place her on the kitchen counter, she taps her index finger on her pursed lips. “Fruit Loops?”

My brows furrow. “Do you think Fruit Loops will stop Mommy from being sick?”

My deep tone is smothered with uncertainty. Savannah has a hard time keeping down toast, so I don’t think she’ll fair well with sugary cereal and full cream milk.

Rylee shakes her head. “No, but the toilet will look pretty after she vomits.”

I throw my head back and laugh. Stick me with a fork, ladies and gentlemen. I am fucking done. If I hadn’t already worked this out months ago, there is no doubting it now. Not only is Savannah Fontane, the prettiest and most entrancing woman in Ravenshoe, but my god, so is her daughter.

“Please be careful,” Savannah begs, handing me the cannister of coffee she made when I announced a break in Brax’s case required me to go back in after only an hour of sleep. “Do you think you’ll see Brax today?”

I nod. “I’ll drop in to update him on what Nate discovered before heading to the office. Why?”

She tries not to smile. She shouldn’t have bothered. Her dimples give away when she is smiling even without her lips moving.

“Can you give him this for me?” She doesn’t hide her grin when she hands me a white paper bag.

Her shit-eating smirk morphs onto my face when I peer into the bag. There is a twelve pack of magnum condoms nestled in the middle.

“You were over the moon when you discovered I was pregnant. I have a feeling Brax might not be so eager to join the parenting club just yet.”

I laugh. “I think he’d shit bricks.”

“Most men would,” Savannah agrees, smiling.

I inch my mouth closer to hers. “Lucky for you, I’m anything but normal.”

Any reply she is planning to give is halted by the lash of my tongue against her lips. My god—as sweet as honey and as sinful as vodka. Savannah’s intoxicating palate would make a sane man insane and a sober man drunk.

I stop refilling my lungs with air when a grunt sounds through my ears. It is closely followed by the stomping of a foot. Not needing further instructions, I bob down to Rylee’s height so she can issue me the same farewell kiss she has given me every day for the past nearly four months.

“Bye, Daddy,” she whispers, her farewell as perfect to my ears as the first hundred times she’s called me her dad.

She curls her arms around my neck to squeeze me tightly. “Be careful.” She stutters her last word, her fret as high as her mother’s when I am on duty.

Although the massive settlement Savannah will be paid by the state means I could soon live like a king, I have no intentions of resigning from my position at Ravenshoe PD. What Regina said all those years ago was true. I was born for this job—I just needed to pull my head out of my ass to see it. Savannah understands this; that is why she’s never mentioned me leaving. It is only Rylee who doesn’t understand why I can’t stay home and play Barbie dolls with her all day. The long paternity leave I’m planning to take when her brother is born will hopefully quench her desires for a few months.

After drawing Rylee into my chest, I assure her, “Don’t fret, sweetheart. Daddy has been waiting for your mommy for a very long time. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. And neither are you.”