LITMIR.BIZ

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      Tate, feeling sticky and a little headachy from tension and anticipation, piped a pale yellow swirl onto a vanilla cupcake and reached for a premade bumblebee, carefully placing the little bee at an angle. Nine cupcakes down, three to go. Looking around the relatively clean kitchen, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d been surprised, and grateful, when the Ballantyne brothers had cleaned up the mess they, and Shaw, had made in their effort to create their spacemen cupcakes. The dishwasher was loaded, the counters wiped down, the ingredients put away. Sage had even stayed to help her mix up four colored bowls of icing and had even offered to help decorate the next batch of cupcakes.

      But Tate knew that Sage still had hours of work ahead of her, so she’d gently refused her help. Besides, she wanted to be alone with Linc. Well, as alone as they could get with two kids in the house. She just needed to get these last few cakes decorated, and she could take a shower and rid herself of her grimy jeans and sticky T-shirt. And then, God willing and children cooperating, Linc would blow her mind...

      And, hopefully other parts of her body, as well.

      Tate’s head snapped up when she heard Linc’s footsteps and sucked in her breath as he walked across the room to her. He stopped just behind her, slid his strong arms around her waist and laid his chin on her shoulder. “How many more to go?”

      Tate tipped her head back to rest it against his collarbone, inhaling his masculine cologne and the underlying scent that was all Linc. “Three. It’ll go quick, if I’m not distracted.”

      Linc nuzzled her temple before standing up straight. He dropped his arms and moved to stand next to her, his hip pushing into the counter. “What can I do to hurry this process along? I mean...to help?”

      Tate lifted her eyebrows, trying not to laugh. “Are you any better at icing than your brothers and son?”

      Linc smiled. “Not really.” He gestured to her pretty cupcakes, a complete contrast to the other messy ones. “Yours look fantastic. Are you going to fix the spacemen?”

      Tate shook her head. “I’m not going to do a thing.”

      “They aren’t exactly of ChildTime standards,” Linc said, and Tate heard the doubt in his voice.

      “Screw the standard,” Tate cheerfully told him. “Shaw made them, he loves them, that’s all that matters. Besides, they are bright and sugary. The kids will inhale them.”

      Linc pushed his fingers into his short hair. “You’re right. What Shaw thinks is all that’s important.” He walked over to the cupboard, pulled down two tumblers and a bottle of really expensive whiskey. Linc placed a half-full glass close to her, and she murmured her thanks.

      “How was the photo shoot?” Tate asked, trying to think of something to talk about to keep both their minds off the smoking hot sex they were about to have.

      She also needed a distraction from the realization that she’d loved everything about this evening, had so relished feeling like an integral part of a family, like she was needed and important. Normally, she would’ve avoided anything that smacked of Harriet Homemaker and run at the first hint of domesticity, but she’d thoroughly enjoyed herself. She even—dare she think it?—wanted more.

      You’re losing your mind, Harper. You’re just overexcited because you’re about to get laid, and your brain is working overtime.

      Get a grip.

      “Long,” Linc replied, boosting himself up to sit on the counter next to her work space. God, how was she supposed to concentrate on her swirls when his long, muscled thigh was a few inches from her hand, when she could see his tanned flesh through the rips in his jeans?

      Tate noticed the unusual ring on his middle finger. “Jaeger had Kashmir sapphires. Beck, red beryl. Sage, red diamonds, but I don’t recognize your stone.”

      “Alexandrite.” Linc pulled the ring off his finger and held it between his thumb and forefinger. He turned it, and in the red depths Tate caught a flash of green, then yellow, maybe a hint of orange. It was stunningly beautiful.

      “Emerald by day, ruby by night,” Linc explained. “It changes color depending on the light source.”

      “I’ve never seen you with it before.” Tate picked up the bag of yellow icing and pulled a bare cupcake toward her.

      “Despite my job, I’m not a jewelry-wearing type of guy. This was Connor’s ring. I was with him, the day he discovered this stone,” Linc explained, his voice low.

      Beneath the lust hovering between them, she heard nostalgia and longing in his voice as he shared an incredible memory. Yes, of course she wanted to explore his fabulous body, but she didn’t mind taking a stroll through his amazing mind. “Tell me more.”

      “It was about six months after we moved in here, and I was recovering from chicken pox. I was better, but the doctor insisted that I stay home, and I was bored out of my mind. I couldn’t believe it when Connor invited me to attend an estate sale with him, somewhere upstate. He bid and won this box of what was mostly costume jewelry. But amongst the junk was a stunning ruby pendant and this ring. Connor was beside himself, alexandrite was his favorite stone, and the ring slid onto his finger as if it were made for him. He never took it off until the day he died.”

      “And you inherited it.”

      Linc’s big shoulders rose and fell. “He was my dad, the only dad I knew. Or wanted. He never married, but, with my mom’s help, he raised four kids and made us feel loved every damn day.”

      “And he and your mom?”

      Linc smiled. “They were best friends, and she was devastated when he died, but nothing, as far as I knew, sparked between them.”

      “And she had no problem with him adopting you?”

      Linc shrugged. “I think she did in the beginning. But they worked it out. He wanted me as much as he wanted the others, and I was his son, with or without her permission. Connor convinced her that him becoming my dad didn’t stop her from being my mom.”

      Tate placed her hand on his knee and squeezed. “You must miss him.”

      “So damn much. He was my North Star, my magnetic pole. Funny, so smart, so full of life. He was, in so many ways, the glue that held us together. He was our charismatic, fearless leader.”

      “And now you’ve taken over that role,” Tate observed, thinking how much responsibility Linc carried on his big, broad shoulders.

      “Yeah, I suppose,” Linc replied, his voice scratchy with emotion.

      “And are you okay with doing that?”

      “Connor would expect it, and that’s reason enough. Though, admittedly, there are days when I’d like to run away.” Linc lifted his glass to his lips, and Tate noticed the slight tremble in his fingers. “While this family mostly, runs on discussion and democracy, the buck has to stop with someone, and that someone is me.”

      “Your siblings would probably disagree with that. And, to be honest, they look like they are very capable of running their own lives.”

      “They are,” Linc admitted. “And they do, but they all know that I’m standing behind them, ready to catch them if they fall. As for the company, I’ll protect the Ballantyne wealth and assets with my last breath.”

      He would, Tate realized. His son, his family and their loved ones, were at the center of everything Linc did. He existed to protect his family and the company his father had loved and created. But where did that leave his wants and desires? He was so busy giving that he rarely took, probably didn’t think that he had the right to be loved and protected and cherished himself.

      I could, if I was braver, less independent and not terrified of staying in one place, I could love him. I could give him what he needed.

      But, realistically, all she could give him was sex. Hot, intense, hopefully mind-blowing sex. Sex that he wouldn’t

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