I roll my eyes. They never stop. “Guys, focus!”

  Dexter groans as Sophie pulls away and rights her shirt.

  But my best friend ignores his protests. “Oh my God, Cat,” she says, eyes wide. “Your hair looks fucking amazing.”

  I finger the ends nervously. “You think?”

  Dex nods. “You look hot.”

  “You’re like a mom but hotter,” Sophie teases.

  I snort. “You goof. But seriously, I need help. What does one wear when introducing her daughter to her long-lost father who until recently was thought to be the devil incarnate but is actually quite likable and she maybe sort of likes him but wants him to suffer a bit longer before putting him out of his misery?”

  Dex blinks a few times and Sophie bursts out laughing.

  “Oh, I love this version of you.” Without another word, she whips around and sifts through the racks of clothes. “Dex, where is that red sweater with the slouchy neck and the open shoulder?”

  Dex blinks again and then mutters, “With the flat black boot, right?”

  “And the jeans with the buttons instead of zippers.”

  “Fuck, Soph, you’re hot when you talk fashion with me.”

  All I can do is grin at the two of them as they move around the closet in synchronization, each grabbing items as they go. In a matter of minutes, they’ve collected five outfits and are shooing me toward the closet. “The others are for any upcoming outings, but start with the sweater. I think that will be perfect for tonight.” Sophie winks.

  Dex mumbles something about giving us privacy, then he grasps the back of Sophie’s neck and gives her a searing kiss before disappearing out the door with a nod in my direction.

  “God,” I breathe, “how do you get anything done with that around all the time?”

  Her eyes are still on the door, and her jaw is a little slack. After a moment, she blinks and licks her lips. “We like to keep it interesting.”

  “You make marriage look easy.” I sigh. Will my marriage to Jay be like that? Easy? Or will I always harbor these insecurities?

  Sophie cocks a hip and raises her brows. “You wanna know what marriage is? Last night, I’m giving Dex a blowjob, and I’m really getting into it, you know?” She pauses, seriously waiting for me to acknowledge the idea of her giving her husband head.

  All I can do is smile and nod. My best friend is ridiculous.

  Seemingly satisfied that I’m listening, she continues. “In the middle of it, he cups my chin, and I’m feeling myself, loving the way his thumb brushes against my cheek so damn reverently. I feel like one of those girls in a romance novel. So cherished…or so I think. Suddenly, there’s a tug on my chin, so I look up, thinking he’s going to hit me with some dirty talk. Call me his dirty little slut or something. Nope. The fucking guy is yanking on a damn hair on my chin. He smiles and says, ‘Sorry. That was distracting me.’”

  I squeal in laughter, but Sophie doesn’t stop. “A fucking hair was distracting him during a blowjob.”

  “Did you stop?” I say between broken breaths.

  “No. I let him come on my face, but that is totally not the point of the story.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the point of the story?”

  She takes a deep breath. “Marriage is about friendship. Laughing at the absurd moments. Together. Because, of course, after he gave me a facial, we laid in bed and giggled over it. It’s stealing those special moments, especially when you’ve got kids. And I’m so fucking excited for you to experience it, Cat. I have a feeling tonight is going to be the first step in your happily ever after.”

  Fighting back tears, I pull Sophie in for a hug. “You’re a good friend,” I whisper.

  “I’d be a better friend if I told you that facials are really good for your skin.” She tilts closer so I can inspect the smooth skin on her face.

  She does look radiant today, and now I’m a teensy bit concerned she’s serious.

  I take my time trying on all the outfits, saving the red sweater for last so I don’t have to change when I get home. Dex and Sophie were right; it’s perfect. It shows off a hint of skin on my shoulders, and the slouchy neck highlights my new haircut.

  “What are you guys having for dinner?” Sophie asks as we head toward the elevators.

  I trip over my own foot—the black boots Dexter suggested fit perfectly—because I haven’t even thought about food for tonight. “Shit, Soph, I didn’t get that far. I have no idea.” Panic claws at my chest.

  “Calm down, drama queen. Pizza should work.” She furrows her brow and inspects me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “He’s a billionaire, Soph. Do billionaires eat pizza?”

  Sophie cackles. “He eats waffles from a street vendor; I’m sure pizza is fine.”

  “Don’t you dare diss Ivan’s waffles. Those things are spectacular.”

  “Cat.” My best friend shakes her head, clearly fighting back a grin. “Do your brothers eat pizza?”

  I shrug. “Yeah.”

  “Do you eat pizza?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  “Then I think it’s safe to say Jay does too, you weirdo. Seriously, get out of your head.”

  “What if she hates him?” My chest aches at the mere thought. Because how could we possibly make this work if Chloe isn’t on board?

  Sophie tilts her head and searches my face. “Jay can be an ass, for sure, and he’s done some pretty stupid things, but in general, he’s a loveable guy. I mean, even when you hated him, you still couldn’t resist him.”

  I blow out a breath. “You’re right. He is so freaking annoying in that way. She’ll probably like him more than she likes me.”

  47

  DANDELIONS BY RUTH B

  Jay

  “How are you feeling?” Hayden asks the second I accept his video call request.

  “Nervous as fuck,” I admit.

  Garreth and Hayden may be twins, but they’re easy to differentiate. Garreth’s golden hair and beard are always perfectly groomed, and his blue eyes are piercing in a cold way. Hayden, on the other hand, has long, unruly hair that hangs to his shoulders, though he usually keeps it back in a bun of some sort, like it is right now. His shoulders are broad, and he’s more cut than his twin, since he spends all his free time playing one sport or another. And he has laugh lines around his eyes and mouth because the guy is never not smiling.

  “Maybe bring a gift?” he suggests. “Any idea what she likes?”

  I point at the screen of my phone. “You are fucking brilliant. Of course I should bring a gift. Cat said she’s into fashion.”

  Hayden chuckles and runs his hands over his mouth, eyeing my suit as he does. “Of course she is.”

  Yes, I like nice things. I own that.

  “She went to Sienna Langfield’s shop last week and loved everything. I need her number.”

  My brother scoffs. “I meant get her flowers or something, not a fucking commissioned outfit from a famous designer.”

  I laugh as I type out a text to Elyse, asking her to get me Sienna’s information. “An outfit? As if I’d get her just one.”

  Hayden drops his head back and lets out a groan. “Jay,” he says when he rights himself again, “you’ve barely met her and she’s already got you wrapped around her finger.”

  “She’s part Cat, part me. The two people I like most in the world. Obviously, she’s going to be awesome.”

  “Oh my God, you are so full of yourself. Just get her flowers.”

  “Of course. She wears the yellow diamond necklace I gave Cat years ago, so I’ll pick up yellow flowers. Definitely not yellow roses, though. That’s what I was holding the first time we met, and I’d rather not relive that moment.”

  “You’ll do fine. Just be yourself.” He grins. “Strike that. Maybe be a little less yourself. More humble, less cocky.”

  I smirk. “Don’t worry. I’ll save all the cocky for Cat.”

  Hayden rolls his eyes. “Can’t wait to meet her. Think I can when I come next week?”

  “Hope so. We’ll see how it goes. I’m letting her and Cat guide how fast or slow we take this. If it were up to me, Cat and I would head down to city hall and make it official, and I’d have them both living with me by the end of the day.”

  I sigh. Somehow that feels like it’s a pipe dream.

  My brother smiles his signature smile, his eyes crinkling. “I’m happy for you, Jay. You deserve it.”

  “Thanks.” Sitting back in my chair, I run a hand through my hair. “I’m not sure I do, but I’m taking my shot anyway.”

  I step out of the elevator holding a bouquet of yellow daisies for Chloe and a fall bouquet for Cat. The arrangement is Cat in flower form. All burnt oranges, yellows, and hints of red berries mixed throughout. At the door, my girl is cradling a pizza box and digging through her purse to pay the delivery man.

  “I’ve got it,” I say, pulling out my wallet as I hustle to the door.

  Cat looks up like a deer in headlights, all wide eyes and nervousness. Her shoulder is peeking out of her red sweater, temping me to drop a kiss there to ease the tension. But instead, I drag my attention away from her and deal with the pizza guy. Once he’s headed to the elevator, I turn back to a speechless Cat. With wild eyes and heaving panicked breaths, she takes a step out of her apartment and slams the door behind her.

  “Fucking stunning,” I whisper as I lean in and kiss her cheek, enjoying how she instantly turns pink at my words. “We gonna go in there, Kitten, or are we eating in the hall?”

  That snaps her out of her stupor, and with an eye roll, she sighs. “I just thought we should talk—make a plan—before going back in there.” She nods toward the door.

  I tangle my fingers in her shorter hair and tug gently before I push it behind her ear. “I thought I was freaking out, but you’re putting me to shame right now.” Hoping to ease the tension she’s carrying, I give her one of my devastating smiles.

  She leans against the door, settling a bit. “I ordered pizza,” she says weakly, holding up the box.

  Chuckling, I nod. “Is that what that is?”

  “You like pizza, right?”

  I bark out a laugh. “Cat, pretty sure we ate pizza in bed all those years ago. Like every other night.”

  She blows out a breath, but she avoids my gaze. Instead, she focuses on something behind me. “Right.”

  “What’s wrong, Kitten?”

  She sighs, but she still won’t look at me. “I don’t cook.”

  “I don’t need a chef.”

  “No, like, I don’t cook, period. I’m not good at this mom thing…and I’ll probably be terrible at the wife thing.”

  Crouching low, I gently set both bouquets on the floor. Then I take the pizza box from her hands and place it next to them. When I straighten, I angle in close to her and lift her chin with my thumb, forcing her to finally look at me so she hears my every word.

  “I haven’t had the honor of witnessing you as a mother, but just hearing you talk about her? And seeing all you’ve done for her over the last twelve years? The choices you’ve made…” I cup her cheek and swipe the pad of my thumb back and forth. “I’m in awe of you, Kitten.” Taking a step closer, I ghost my lips across her mouth. “And as for being a wife…” I chuff out a dark laugh. “Food is the last thing I want from you, Catherine.”

  The gold flecks in her eyes meld together, and tears threaten to spill over her lashes. “What do you want from me, Jay?” she whispers, her lips brushing against mine with her every word.

  “All of you.” I pull back an inch or two. “These lips,” I say as her tongue darts out to moisten them. “This heart.” I press my free hand flat against her chest, relishing the wild way it beats against my fingertips. Sliding my hand around her neck, I drop my forehead to hers and pull her so her mouth meets mine. “This body. Fuck, baby, you own me, and I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me. But I promise, the last thing you should ever feel is insecure as a mother or as a wife. Because to me, you’re perfect.”

  Her eyes soften, and she swallows thickly. “I like you like this,” she whispers.

  I dig my fingers into the back of her neck, barely holding myself back. “And how am I, Cat?”

  Her tongue darts out again. “Unhinged, sweet, devoted. Maybe a tiny bit mine.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “I’m 100 percent yours. And those other things? For you, yeah, I’m all of those.”

  She stares at me for what feels like forever, her eyes never leaving mine, but she doesn’t respond.

  I kiss the tip of her nose and release her, knowing that if I take her lips the way I want to right now, I’ll be inside of her in less than a minute, and that’s not what this night is about.

  Releasing her neck, I lean down to grab the pizza and the flowers. But I don’t miss the disappointed look that crosses her beautiful features.

  “And Cat,” I say as I open the door to her apartment, “I’m glad you like me.” I pause and smirk in her direction. “Because I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

  48

  MESS IS MINE BY VANCE JOY

  Cat

  Two seconds. That’s all I allow myself. Two seconds to lean against the wall and smile so big my cheeks hurt. Then I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and follow Jay inside.

  Tonight is not about us. There’s a little girl here who needs to know that this man is interested in getting to know her. That he’s not just coming around because of me.

  It’s not even a concern in my mind. I know Jay. I’ve always known him, even when I wouldn’t acknowledge it. It’s why I struggled to trust what my grandfather said about him all those years ago. Because this Jay, my Jay, would never turn his back on his daughter.

  He didn’t willingly turn his back on me.

  And after almost thirteen years of suffering for the both of us, it’s time to focus on the good. It’s okay for me to move forward. Because I want the man who’s standing in the center of my living room, taking in each detail as if he’s cataloging it for later and waiting for the moment he lays his eyes on Chloe again.

  If he’s nervous, he doesn’t let it show. Steady hands slide the pizza box onto the stove top and set the two bouquets on the kitchen counter. Then warm blue eyes are tracking the space, searching for our missing puzzle piece.

  “Chlo,” I holler. “Jay’s here.” In a lower voice, I say to him, “She likes listening to music while she does her homework.”

  He nods in acknowledgment, but his gaze remains focused on the hallway where faint strains of music are floating through the air.

  “Want a glass of wine? Beer? Or whiskey?” I offer. “I only have James Whiskey, though,” I tease.

  Jay grimaces. “Soon it will be one and the same, beautiful. You ready to tell your brothers we’re switching grains so that their whiskey can get on par with Hanson?”

  Rolling my eyes, I mutter under my breath, “Cocky bastard.”

  At the sound of a door opening, we both dart glances at the hallway. Then Chloe is standing at the edge of the kitchen, swaying back and forth awkwardly.

  Taking a deep breath, I jump in to introduce them. “Chlo, you remember Jay from my office? Jay, this is Chloe. Our…daughter.” The last words are whispered as the enormity of the moment settles on all of us. It’s like a fog lifts, making everything around us more clear.

  Two sets of matching bright blue eyes blink at one another, and then Jay is moving in her direction.

  My heart stops at the sight, and I hold my breath in anticipation of what he’ll do.

  “It’s good to see you again, Chloe,” he says, holding out his hand to greet her.

  I have to bite down on my bottom lip to hide my smile as I watch the adorable train wreck. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know how to talk to kids, but shaking her hand? Oof.

  Chloe blinks at his outstretched hand, then looks past him to me. For a split second, her eyes are filled with humor. I lift my chin and smile, encouraging her.

  She presses her lips together and slides her hand into his. “Nice to see you too,” she says. Her tone is all awkward and slightly teasing.

  “I ordered pizza,” I say, breaking the tension in the room.

  “Yeah,” Jay chirps, “your mom was afraid that billionaires don’t eat pizza.”

  Chloe laughs. “Considering she doesn’t cook, you better get used to it.”

  Struck by the way Jay referred to me as mom and Chloe didn’t correct him, I’m left gaping at them.

  Chloe tilts her head sheepishly and says, “Come on, we still love you,” as if she believes I’m upset by their teasing.

  What she doesn’t know is that this moment—the easy way Jay referred to me as her mom and how the two of them instantly ganged up to tease me—is probably the greatest moment of my life. And this is only the beginning.

  “And you got to go backstage?” Chloe asks, her eyes wide.

  Jay eats up her excitement, a boyish grin falling across his face. “Even better.” He nods. “Afterward, I went out with them and sang karaoke.”

  “Shut up. Cat, did you hear that?” Chloe asks, like I’m not sitting at the table with them. “Jay sang with Harry Styles.”

  Jay holds a slice of pizza up and winks at me across the table. Every cell in my body screams we love this man.

  Turning to Chloe, I avoid blurting that out and reply, “Yeah, I heard him.” I grin and turn back to my fiancé. “Harry must have been drunk to agree to sing with the likes of you.”

  Jay smirks. “I happen to remember you loving my voice, Kitten.”

  The blush that burns my cheeks is instantaneous.

  “Kitten?” Chloe asks, her nose scrunching.

  A breathy laugh leaves my throat, and I shake my head at Jay. He’s sporting a grin and wiping his hands with his napkin in satisfaction.

  “Your mom never told you that’s her nickname?”

  The way he continues to call me her mom and the way he smiles at me and our daughter shreds all my defenses. I’m putty in this man’s hands, and he knows it.