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“You don’t want your own kids?” he asks.
“I do.” I undo my tie with a sharp snap. “But I want your mother more.”
“Funny and sweet and understanding, and he sleeps on the couch at my house out of respect for my kids.”
“On the couch tonight—or in the laundry.”
“Fuck me in my car out on the street, for all I care. I just need you to fuck me.”
I kiss his shoulder, and it momentarily snaps him out of his stress. He kisses my forehead.
“Oh . . . so possessive of his woman. I love that.”
I giggle. He’s actually ruffled . . . I love it.
“We need to go,”
“No.”
“You need to...
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“Baby.” Tristan puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “I’ll find him. I promise you,” he whispers into my hair. “I am going to kill him when I find him . . . but I will find him, regardless.”
“Hell yeah.”
“Give me your clothes.”
“What?”
“Go watch some porn or something.”
“This is better.”
“What the hell is going on?”
“Good luck!”
“I hope you don’t run into any more cats out there.”
“You know, intelligent people scare stupid people.”
“Did you get that?”
“And these are my boys, Fletcher, Harrison, and Patrick.”
“So you’re telling me I can care for them, I can love them, but I can’t ever call them my sons.”
How the hell did you get on a plane, anyway?”
“With your credit card.”
I fucking love this kid.
You’re our dad, and dads belong with their kids.”
“That’s my boy.”
“What’s this?”
“My resignation.”
“W...
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“Tell me you’re ...
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“I’m taking over as CEO of Anderson Media. Fletcher and I are going...
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“I’m going to run my sons’ company . . . for them. I can build it back up so that by the time they are old enough to take it over, it will be booming.”
“When will you be back?”

