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“More than I should.”

“He spends most of the week convincing people he has complete control of every situation.”

“He’s always worked hard at that impression.”

Babs pulls my sleeve before I can follow the thought any further. “We need to go to the playground.”

Bane checks his watch, securing the reels inside the bag. “You’ve spent three hours running across this lawn.”

“That means we’re warmed up,” she says.

Biddy straightens beside me. “Emma can watch us.”

I glance between them. “Can she?”

Both girls nod before Bane can answer.

“I’m capable of supervising you,” he says as he stands.

Babs looks up at him with patient sympathy. “You’re Daddy, so you worry too much.”

“I worry an appropriate amount.”

“Emma plays with us.”

I look across the path toward the crowded playground, where children climb over ropes, ladders, slides, and structures designed to test every parent’s nerves. “That appointment appears to have been made without consulting me.”

Biddy takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. “Please?”

Her hopeful expression removes any chance of refusal, and Babs begins explaining that the tallest slide requires an adult stationed at the bottom in case anyone travels too fast.

Bane lifts both canvas bags as Mara folds the rest of the blanket. “We’ll go back to the penthouse when they’re finished, and you can eat with us.”

The invitation sounds suspiciously close to an instruction, so I raise my eyebrows while Biddy swings our joined hands. “Am I staying for dinner?”

Bane adjusts the bags across his shoulder before meeting my gaze. “I’d like you to.”

The directness beneath the words catches me. Babs tugs me toward the path and Sprout pushes his nose into my coat pocket.

I could return to my apartment, answer the messages waiting on my phone, and spend the evening reminding myself that becoming attached to Bane is complicated enough without falling for his entire family.

Biddy tightens her fingers around mine. Babs calls over her shoulder for us to hurry, and Bane watches me with hope he doesn’t try to conceal.

“I’d love to stay.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Bane

APRIL 26TH

I ease the girls’ bedroom door almost shut behind me after they finally stop negotiating on Sprout’s behalf.

Babs insisted he needed a bedtime story because he has “big feelings,” while Biddy argued dogs would rather watch documentaries about squirrels, and by the time I’ve settled both debates, tracked down a missing pajama top, and convinced them bedtime isn’t a suggestion, nearly an hour has disappeared.

The apartment has finally gone still.

I find Emma on the terrace with both hands wrapped around a mug as she looks across Central Park, where ribbons of headlights wind between the trees. A breeze stirs a few loose strands of hair across her cheek, and she doesn’t notice me until the terrace door slides closed behind me.