Free Complete We (A Her Billionaires Novella #4) by Julia Kent

with anger.
    “Fang! Fang fang fang,” Jillie called out. “Mama fang.” Dylan absentmindedly picked her up as Frank’s eyes went from Laura to Jillian, then to him, clearly trying to figure out paternity. The hot ball of nuclear waste burning through his gut got hotter. If Mike came in right now…
    Laura’s eyes locked with Dylan’s, and all he saw was pure panic. Nothing else. Shit.
    Brushing cereal dust off his little girl, he tried to communicate telepathically with Laura, but unfortunately that superpower appeared to be on hold right now. Frank didn’t have the decency to be self-conscious. The guy didn’t have a shred of any discomfort as he stood, uninvited, in their home while Laura shifted from foot to foot wearing wet hair and a short bathrobe.
    “Why don’t you get changed, hon, and I’ll take care of Jillie?” Dylan said in a measured tone, eyes drawing Laura to him.
    “Jillie?” Frank leaned forward and stroked the baby lightly on her chin, spilling a heart’s worth of giggles out of her. Dylan caught Laura flinch when Frank touched the little girl, but Laura said nothing.
    “Good idea,” she said, looking in the general direction of Frank but not at him. “I’ll be right back.”
    Frank took that as some sort of social apology on Laura’s part and said, “Oh, it’s fine, dear. I’m sure you’re careful not to dress down like this for anyone but family.” Her cheeks turned bright pink and her eyes widened. Motherfucker. Dylan was about to grab a cast-iron frying pan from the pot ’n pan rack in the kitchen and beat the guy senseless.
    “Of course you’re fine, Laura,” he said, marching across the room to give her a gentle hug before she left. Laura stumbled slightly, clearly trying to hightail it out of there, but Dylan needed to make a point. A clear, don’t-fuck-with-us point. “It’s not as if you’ve seen your uncle in years, and there’s no reason to expect you can’t be comfortable in your own home.”
    Dylan gave Frank a very unambiguous look, his eyes finding the man’s. “You’re lucky I’m wearing underwear.”
    “Considering your past as a model, perhaps I’m not so lucky,” Frank said, waggling his eyebrows.
    Laura began to choke with surprise. If Dylan weren’t so wired and pissed he would have laughed, too. This guy was complicated. At least he’d finally showed up, but now? Right now? Dylan took the opportunity while he could and shooed Laura into the bedroom, setting Jillie on the floor with some stacking blocks.
    “Go ahead and change, and let Mike know we have a guest,” Dylan said, hoping she took the hint.
    “Right. Mike,” Laura replied, the fleeting look between them transmitting a thousand words. Mike still hadn’t debriefed them on what had happened today at the office, but Dylan assumed it was a doozy.
    Laura left, but Franks’s eyes were only for Jillian. “She looks so much like…” Frank’s voice faded out as he gave Dylan a skeptical look, clearly comparing the dark hair, darker-toned skin, and Italian features with Jillian’s light hair, hazel eyes, and coloring that made it seem impossible for Dylan to be her dad.
    It wasn’t like anyone else hadn’t questioned it, too, but this guy? Dylan’s flush of anger returned. Being judged by strangers was one thing. Being judged by an entitled asshole who seemed to think he could sweep into his niece’s life and dictate the terms?
    No fucking way.
    “Like?” Dylan growled the word out.
    “Like Laura,” Frank said softly, taking the diplomatic way out.
    Dylan snorted. “Little girls tend to do that.”
    “And Laura looks so much like my sister. Speaks like her as well. You never met Sharon, did you?”
    “She died long before I met Laura.” Dylan measured his words carefully, saying “I” instead of “we.” Normally, he and Mike coded their words, trying to be as inclusive as possible. Even though he knew Frank knew about their permanent threesome, something made Dylan