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“Tate cannot see you like this,” Mitch says. “In fact, Tate cannot see other people seeing you like this. He’s going to go insane.”
It’s not my fault that Tate can’t control his rabid hormones.
“Hey baby,” he whispers and I drop my head, overcome with embarrassment, amazement, and pure, pure love.
“I knew that my girl would be the sweetest little thing in here tonight.”
Tate twists around, a vein that I’ve never seen before bulging furiously in his neck as he glares down at Hudson. “Watch it man, I could’ve knocked her,” he grits out, and his hands move to compress me into his side.
As soon as I can I’m gonna come back for you, River. I promise I’m gonna come back for you.”
As we walk across the grounds outside I shield Kit’s eyes so that she doesn’t have to see the mascot, the cheer squad, and the banners being set up for the sports evening tonight, but I can tell that she’s already in better spirits because she’s shielding the skeleton’s “eyes” too.
“Hey quarterback,” I tease and he gives me a cocky flash of perfect white teeth. “Hey wife,” he says, and he presses a firm kiss into my neck.
“Need my girl tonight.”
baby.
“Don’t for one second think of letting go,”
“I’ll make it fit,” he whispers darkly.
“That’s my girl.”
I love it so much that I open my eyes as Tate kisses along my collarbone, but instead of looking down to watch his mouth sucking my skin and his hand softly teasing my breast, my eyes lock onto the face grinning at me straight through the window.
“Baby,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry.”
My eyes instantly move to his hand and my mouth drops open. I read the letters freshly inked into his knuckles in neatly scripted capitals. RIVER.

