Caught Up (Windy City, #3)

by Liz Tomforde

“You’ve got a cute kid.” You’ve got a cute everything, is what I want to say in response.

“I know it’s weird to offer, but I can hold him if you wa—” “No,” I snap. “Geez.” “I mean, no, thank you. He doesn’t do well with women.” “Wonder where he got that from.”

“Oh, well that’s good. I mean, that’s not good. Or maybe it is good? Who am I to say? Goddamn, this elevator is taking forever.” She slaps a palm over her mouth, her eyes darting to Max. “I mean, gosh dang it.” That finally makes me chuckle, a small grin sliding across my lips. She softens a bit. “He does smile.”

“Maybe he should loosen up every once in a while. He’s got a cute-ass kid and an even cuter smile when he shows it.”

“And Ace,” he calls out. “Keep your dick in your pants. We all know how fucking fertile you are, and I’m too young and too goddamn attractive for someone to be calling me Grandpa.”

“He’ll be on his hands and knees most of the time.” “As all men should be.”

“If you’re as terrible of a listener in the bedroom as you are in real life, Miller, I can promise you this, you wouldn’t be allowed to come.”

“You keep talking like that, Kai, and I’ll be ditching the ‘baseball’ part and just be calling you ‘daddy.’”

“If you’re going to start coming to my games, I better see Rhodes on your back and I’m not talking about my brother.” “Is this some athlete kink you got? Need to see a girl in your jersey?” The old flirty side of me that I’ve kept hidden and locked down for the most part since Max came into my life is itching to break free. I pop my shoulders. “I like to see pretty girls in my jersey. Like to take it off them too.” Miller’s lips part, a shocked and satisfied grin lifting on the corners. “Well, with that kind of promise, I’ll be sure to wear it next time.”

“You flirting with me, Montgomery?” “Have been since we met. You gonna start flirting back?”

“Malakai,” my brother warns, dragging out my full name. “He better get his fucking hands off her.” Isaiah steps in front of me. “Don’t.”

“I’m just gonna go have a word.” “Kai, if you fuck up your hand, Monty will literally murder me.” “I’m not going to hit him.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” I step into him, but I feel the tug Miller has on my shirt.

“Yes, the fuck you are.” She stares right at me, not backing down. “Kai, I am not your problem.” My attention dips to her lips. “Be my problem.”

“Then do something to make me your problem.” Fuck me. I’m so frustratingly into this woman, so I do just that. I make her my problem.

Her fucking tongue.

I guess we’re making some motherfucking banana bread.

“Please.” His ice-blue eyes are pleading with me. “All I can think about is fucking you right now, but you’re out of your goddamn mind if you think any of this could be easily forgettable for me.” He shakes his head, running a palm over his disbelieving face. “I think I’m ruined by simply watching you come, so please, do me a favor and go to bed.” Fixing my shirt, he gives me one last quick kiss. “And for the love of God…lock the fucking door.”

“Yes, baby. Suffocate me.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter if you see me or not. You’re going to feel every inch of me. I’ll be so deep, you’ll be able to feel me in your fucking throat, and I can promise you, Miller, your body won’t let you forget me.”

Without hesitation or asking for permission, I take the frame off his desk and unclip the back. The photo is small, maybe only two or three inches in height and fits perfectly next to the one of Max in my hat.

I nod toward the house. “Come.” “Malakai,” she scolds. “Inappropriate.”

“Can we forget about some of my rules? For the rest of the week while I’m here? I just want to know what it’d feel like.” “You want to know how what feels like?” “To be yours.”

“Mills, you already are mine. Even if I haven’t been allowed to show you, you’ve always been mine.”

“She’s not my blood, but she’s my girl,” Monty says from beside me. “And she looks at your boy, who is not her blood, in the same way I look at her. I’ve seen it all summer. I watched her fall in love with two people at the same time, and it reminded me of myself when I met her and her mom. She won’t be able to just walk away from that, regardless of if you ask or not.” Monty finally looks my way, eyes welling with unshed tears. “I know I couldn’t.”

“Miller,” he says, making sure my attention is on him. “If you ever decide to stop running and make a home…” His eyes are begging, pleading. “Make it with me.”

I hope you’re out there finding your joy because you’re the reason we found ours.

And finally, the one that makes my eyes burn. Mae’s Tiramisu—for the woman I never got to meet but who raised two amazing men. I hope I follow in your steps by being a fantastic boy-mom.

“Mama!” Max calls out from the other side of the glass, and when we look back, Ryan’s got him hoisted on his arm to get a good view.