*Isla*
“Look at you,” Maddox beams as he balances on his hands and knees in front of Isaac on the floor in the large, airy sitting room near the library. I glance up from the magazine I’m reading to watch them, smiling as Maddox drops onto his elbows to look Isaac in the eyes. Isaac, hating every minute of what his nanny calls “tummy time”, screws his face into a scowl and lets out a howl of displeasure. “Oh, come on. You’re big and tough!”
“You’re torturing him,” I chuckle, flipping a page. Maddox makes a face at Isaac, and the baby’s scowl turns into a grin. Seeing Maddox as a father is… a dream. Speaking of big and tough, this man used to intimate the hell out of me, and still intimates practically everyone else. Maddox just stepping into a room is enough to silence the space, and one
