Both his hands tangled in her mass of long blond hair.
Her nails bit into his back as she held him close.
“Daddy.” Emmy stood right behind them.
He and Trinity jumped apart like two teens who’d been caught making out.
With a sigh of regret, he turned to his daughter. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Of course you are.” He glanced at Trinity, the woman he was starving for, who touched her kiss-swollen lips with two fingers and nearly had him on his knees begging, then turned back to his daughter. “I left a snack in the fridge. Go find it.”
Emmy gave Trinity a big smile and said, “Kissing.” She giggled.
Trinity laughed with her. “Yes, we were.” She brushed her hand over Emmy’s head. “Your hair looks amazing.”
“Daddy did it.” She ran into the kitchen to get the grapes, cheese cubes, and turkey slices he’d left for her.
Trinity smiled at him. “I love the braids.”
He’d done one small one coming from each side of her head and tied them together in the back to hold the rest of her long hair out of her face. “I learned from a video on YouTube.”
This time she reached out to him and put her hand on his face. “That’s sweet you’d go through the trouble to learn.”
“I do the best I can.”
Her hand settled on his chest over his thumping heart. “I think she’s a lucky girl.”
He covered her hand with his. “Yeah, well, luck was on my side when I met you.”
She brushed a kiss against his lips. “Yep. Sweet. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Not soon enough,” he said by way of goodbye.
She was out the door far too soon, but before she walked down the path to the driveway, she turned back. “I just thought you should know, the cobbler was just a means to see if you’d kiss me again.”
Damn if he didn’t want to spend the rest of the day and night doing just that. “Stop by anytime. I’m happy to oblige.”
Her smile was brighter than the sun as she backed away, turned, then headed for her SUV.
He reluctantly closed the door instead of going after her for what he really wanted, because he had to check on his daughter.
“What’s this?” Emmy pulled up a corner of the foil on the dessert Trinity dropped off.
“Peach cobbler.” Or Trinity’s means to get him to kiss her again. He hoped she knew now she didn’t need to do anything but show up and he’d want to kiss her over and over again.
“Do I like that?”
“I’m not sure.” But he knew for damn sure he more than liked Trinity.
He grabbed a spoon from the drawer and scooped out a small bite and fed it to Emmy.
“Mmm. That’s good.”
“Eat your snack first, then you can have a little bit now and some after dinner if you eat all of it, too.”
Emmy ran back to her plate at the counter and took it to the table. He stole his own bite of cobbler and nearly groaned with satisfaction from that tiny bite. He wished he could skip dinner and just eat that, but he needed to set a good example for Emmy.
Instead of devouring the brown sugar, cinnamon, and peach concoction, he went back to his computer and pulled up the search engine. He typed in Tate’s name, added Liz and Clint to the search and hit enter. His eyes popped at the number of stories that filled the page. He started with the first one and couldn’t believe all that Clint put Liz, Tate, Trinity, and a string of other women through. Murder, kidnapping, arson, deepfake videos, and harassment that went on for years for some of the victims.
His stomach knotted and his heart ached for her.
He thought of the scar on Trinity’s temple, the ones left on her mind and heart, and he wanted to kill the asshole who terrorized her then and now.
Too bad the bastard was already dead and Jon couldn’t get his hands on him.
God help anyone who tried to hurt her again.
He’d show no mercy when it came to Emmy and Trinity.
Chapter Eleven
Trinity wondered how long it took Jon to look up what happened and how it would impact her current mental state. She didn’t mind Emmy asking about her scar. Kids were curious creatures by nature. But she could have handled herself better. She didn’t need to rush out of there that way.
Of course, Jon had been amazing, stopping her before she escaped to her car and had a full-blown panic attack.
Instead, he’d distracted her. Just his hand on her, the warm tenor of his voice as he asked about what happened and coaxed her to open up to him, they calmed her. His touch, the amazing kiss, they pulled her out of the past and right into his arms where she liked being way more than she should given the fact they barely knew each other.
Still. She appreciated his kindness and understanding. He didn’t dismiss her feelings or tell her to get over it. Everyone liked to remind her Clint was dead and she didn’t have anything to worry about. Intellectually, she knew that, but her brain hadn’t processed that message yet. It stored away the trauma and fear, and when it got too much to hold back, it came right out, front and center, and took over her mind and body all over again.
But Jon seemed to know how to make it all go away.
Or maybe she should put into practice what her therapist told her and use distraction to change her mindset. Until now, she hadn’t found anything that did that for her.
Except Jon.
She could kiss him again and again and never get tired of it.
“Please tell me that secret little smile you’ve got going has something to do with the new guy in your life.” Her soon-to-be sister-in-law Skye bumped shoulders with her.
She couldn’t help or hide the blush that only made Skye smile even wider at her. “Maybe.”
“Spill it. Is he as gorgeous as Adria says?”
“Most definitely.” Tall with wide shoulders and a trim frame, his body toned to perfection. Blue eyes set off by his dark hair. And the way he looked at her . . . Smokin’ hot. “I could look at him all day.”
Skye’s eyes turned dreamy. “And he’s a good guy. You’d only pick a good one.”
“I think he picked me.” It felt that way at the hospital when they stood in the lobby and he’d made it clear he wanted to get to know her better. “But I think I’ll keep him. For now anyway.” She tried to hide another smile but couldn’t.
Skye touched her arm. “I’m so happy for you.”
She looked at Drake leaning back against the counter, Adria in front of him, his arms wrapped around her, one big hand on her round belly. Declan was chatting with Tate, but his gaze kept drifting to Skye. And Tate stood there holding Liz’s hand, their fingers linked. Everyone in the family had someone. She was here alone, but it kind of felt like she and Jon were on the right track to really start something that could last.
“I’m happy for me, too.” It had been a long time since she’d really felt happy, not just pretended to be that way.
“I’m glad. You work so much and after what happened . . . Well, we were all worried about you.”
She thought she hid her feelings so well. Adria swore she’d kept all Trinity’s episodes under wraps. She didn’t want anyone to know she was struggling, because then her brothers would hover and try to take over her life after she’d worked so hard to get them to see her as the strong, independent, nothing-bothers-me woman she used to feel like all the time.