“It is,” Reid agrees, “and we’re all family. You ladies bust your asses with the kids, keep the house running, and so much more. Our jobs require a lot from not only us but also you. Go have a day together. You earned it.”
“We really don’t need a day away,” Sloane counters, and all the ladies, minus me, murmur their agreement.
“And that means you, too,” Reid speaks up, pointing at me. “You’re there for support for all of them, and you’re raising that beautiful little girl of yours all on your own. You’ve earned this day, too, Amanda.”
“Oh, I can’t ask you to—” I start, but it’s Will who speaks up, stopping my protest.
“Go. We’ve got her, Momma,” he says, scooping Mia up in his arms. As soon as she heard his voice, she was on the move to reach him. “We’ll take good care of them.” He breaks eye contact with me, and his eyes find Bellamy’s.
I feel like I’m on the verge of tears. Not the sad kind. The overwhelming kind. The kind that sneaks up on you when you realize you’re not alone the way you thought you were.
Mia settles against Will as if she belongs there. Her tiny hand fists into the collar of his T-shirt, and she lays her head on his shoulder with a content little sigh.
Traitor.
Will’s thumb traces lazy circles on her back, instinctive and gentle. He murmurs something into her curls, and she giggles. That sound does something dangerous to my heart.
“See?” Foster nudges his wife with his hip. “We’re professionals.”
“What he said.” Baker nods.
“Oh, please.” Sloane laughs. “You called me last week because you couldn’t find the wipes.”
“The wipe drawer was empty,” Baker defends.
“There is no wipe drawer.” Sloane laughs.
“There should be,” Baker says, scooping Camden into his arms and tossing him over his shoulder.
The group bursts into laughter, and just like that, the tension eases. Reid wraps an arm around Bellamy’s shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple. “We’ve got this,” he repeats, softer now.
“I guess it’s just a few hours,” Bellamy adds, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Lunch. Maybe some shopping. Definitely margaritas.”
“At least two,” Corie confirms.
“Call us if you need a ride,” Knox tells us.
I finally risk looking at Will as each couple starts to talk among themselves. That was a mistake, because his eyes are already on mine. His gaze is steady, warm, and certain that he can handle Mia. I have no doubt that he can, especially with the others there as backup, but we’re not his responsibility. There’s no teasing smirk, no playful arrogance. Just something quiet and solid. Something that says he means what he said. Something that says, “Go, have fun. I’ve got your girl.”
He shifts Mia higher on his hip like it’s second nature. Like he’s done this his whole life. Like he was made to do it. And that quiet confidence is what undoes me. I’ve spent so long convincing myself that I don’t need anyone. That Mia and I are a complete unit. That wanting more is reckless. But standing here, watching him hold my daughter like she’s precious, like she’s his, it has me feeling things I’m not allowed to feel.
Not for him.
“Amanda,” he says softly. He starts toward me, with my daughter in his arms, and stops when he’s standing next to me.
The way he says my name feels intimate, like a caress of my skin. His eyes lock on mine, and we have an entire conversation without words.
“You deserve a break.” His voice drops lower, meant only for me. “Let me do this.”
Let me do this.
Not we.
Not them.
Him.
My throat tightens. “She can be a handful,” I tell him, not bothering to lower my voice so the others don’t wonder why we’re whispering.