"I can’t believe he asked you to do that."

  "Oh, it's no bother. Besides, I like doing it. And since I'm making yours, I'm making some for him too. That way he won't eat out as much. It's not good for him, you know."

  If I hadn’t been so shocked and confused, I would have laughed. She looked after him like his own mother would. I frowned thinking about the older woman I'd met. How long had she been ill? How long had it been since Atticus had someone had to care about him?

  Magda took out the warming plate and stacked on the French toast for my sister, warming it and giving it to her before she made herself scarce.

  "Wait, let me make sure I have this right. You have a housekeeper who makes food for you. You never have to slave over your own stove again unless you want to?"

  "Yes. Not that I have time to cook anymore anyway. It's been a little crazy."

  My sister lifted a brow. "I mean, honestly, it's been a little crazy for a few years already. Things were supposed to get better for you once you took your company and joined Dad. But they never got better because you kept trying to show him that his investment was worth it, even though you didn't need to prove anything to anyone. He got the better end of that deal. You know that."

  I massaged the back of my neck and said, "Can we not talk about that? I just… I don't want to."

  "Okay." She spoke around a forkful of French toast. "Let me get to the reason I'm here then."

  "Okay. You didn't just come for a visit?"

  "Sure, I did. But I had an ulterior motive. The party planner is annoying me. She's not listening to anything I say."

  "Morgan, I cannot deal with the details. If it's some insane, garish affair, fine, I do not care. None of that matters to me."

  "Fine, then onto my other matter."

  "I swear to God, if you bug me with something Lance-related, I will force-wrap your hair."

  With a sharp gasp, she delicately patted today's wash-n-go style. "You wouldn't. It took me two hours this morning."

  "I would. I love you, but I would."

  "All right, fine, Lance is off the table. Which leads me to my final reason for coming."

  "You wanted to see the view for yourself?"

  "We have already covered the view. What I want to know is when the fuck were you going to tell me that you had boinked the hell out of Atticus Price?"

  I coughed around the glass of water in my hand. "What?"

  "Don't you what me. Those little touches yesterday, those weren't about putting on a show. The two of you have done the deed. The horizontal mambo. Why on earth wouldn't you tell me?"

  "How could you know?"

  "Because you're my sister. I will always know. Besides, you were walking with a pep in your step that wasn't there two nights ago. So, that means something happened after I left the other night and before breakfast, and you didn't call me to dish?"

  "Even if I wanted to, things got a little crazy. And then I woke up to meet you guys for brunch. I would have called you… eventually."

  "Well, I'm here now, so spill."

  "I'm not going to talk to you about sex with Atticus. Not here, where anyone could hear."

  "Whatever. You will dish and you will dish now. Or the syrup goes in your hair and I start blabbing very loudly about the time that Todd Wilcox finger-banged you in the movie theater on the school field trip."

  "Oh my God, you would not."

  "I am ruthless."

  "Jesus, Morgan, I was seventeen. And you weren't supposed to overhear that story anyway."

  "Listen, eavesdropping on you and your friends having conversations was my essential awakening. Learning all about how you were trying to emulate the movie fear without the rollercoaster event had me running to watch that movie. And I have to tell you, Marky Mark… He was hot."

  "Oh my God, Morgan, fine. We slept together."

  "And? You can't just stop there. I mean, was it big? Was it any good?”

  "Morgan, please!"

  "All I'm saying is inquiring minds want to know. I'm inquiring. My mind wants to know."

  I snorted a laugh. "It was…" God, just thinking about what we had done in the morning before I headed out to meet her and Clarissa, I flushed deep. "Let’s just say he's more than promised."

  "Hell, yes. I am happy for you. This is so exciting, and this is real. It's the real deal. This is love. I'm very excited about it, by the way."

  "It's not love, Morgan. It just happened because he was upset I didn't tell him about my birthday."

  She winced. "You didn't tell him, Gwen?"

  "No, it didn't occur to me that I needed to."

  "Gwen, maybe it's time to talk to someone. I mean, look, I know you've broken the seal. It might be good to speak to someone about everything that happened with Bronson. I definitely think that you should tell Atticus."

  "I'm not doing any such thing."

  "Oh, so you're going to continue to shove it down and pretend like it never happened?"

  "I don't want to talk about this."

  "Well, you need to talk about something. About anything. Hell, I would be satisfied if you told me that you're going to let Atticus Price spoil you stupid. That he's going to swoop in and give your employees all the bonuses, all the money, something to take the weight off you. I would be happy if you said that you are, for once, going to take a break, or if you said that we're going to celebrate your birthday properly. Not this bullshit thing where you try and ignore the day and then begrudgingly let Clarissa and me take you to brunch. I would be happy if you said any one of those things. But you keep saying nothing. I just want you to be happy, Gwen."

  I bit the inside of my cheek. "I am happy. This is me being happy."

  "No, this is you doing what you always do. Pretending and protecting everybody except yourself. And maybe by not talking, you think you're protecting yourself, but you're only holding yourself back. From the looks of it, you finally had an orgasm. Good for you."

  I flushed again. "Morgan."

  "What? It's an orgasm. If we're lucky, we all have them. And hopefully, yours was good. From the Ice King, no less. I am a little worried about the frost, you know, on the lady parts. But if it's big, then it's big."

  I couldn't help myself. I picked up a piece of French toast and threw it at her. I didn't usually lose control. The splatter of syrup on her face made me gasp in shock. But instead of being irritated, Morgan just grinned. "There she is. I knew she was in there somewhere. Now, if you could let my fucking sister out more often, that would be fucking amazing."

  I frowned. "What?"

  "You just lost your cool. Old Gwen lost her cool. I want to see more of that. She was fun. She would throw fucking pieces of French toast at me. But I won't waste it and retaliate. I am going to eat this."

  I shook my head at her silliness. Had I really changed that much?

  Had I allowed working under my father’s rule to make me meek?

  "I'll drop it for now, okay?” she said with a smirk. “But you having orgasms now is really a big fucking deal for me. I just want you to know that I love you. And I know what you've been going through, so I’m happy for you. Though I expect to be told the details. And if you don't want to talk about it yet, that's fine. I'll let it go. But I want to be happy for you about something, not worried all the time. So let me be happy for you, even if it is a giant icicle.” She grinned wickedly. “Tell me it's a giant icicle."

  I snorted as I grabbed a paper towel and wet it for her to wipe the syrup off her face.

  "Jesus Christ, it is. I fucking knew it."

  And then, for the first time in a long time, I let myself relax as I told my sister something fun.

  Chapter 28

  Gwen

  On the night of the engagement party, my sister squeezed me so tight I couldn't breathe. "Oh my God, Morgan, let go."

  "No, I'm not letting you go. You're my big sister, and you're about to walk out there to your engagement party. Why does it feel like I'm losing you?"

  "That's ridiculous. You're obviously not losing me. I love you. Now, let go."

  We were in the bathroom, double-checking makeup and things, and Morgan was hovering. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Morgan, stop worrying. I'm the big sister."

  "I know. I just know how this came about, so of course, I worry about you."

  "You don't need to worry about me, honey. Things are good now. We've been slowly working our way toward each other. We’re in a good place now, so don't start a fight with him on my behalf."

  "First and foremost, I'm a lady. I don't start fights. Second, you deserve to be fought over. Remember that."

  "When did you become the big sister?"

  "I didn't. I'm just finally standing where I want to be."

  "Yeah, I can see that."

  "Excellent. Now go find your sexy fiancé. Let him shower you with orgasms. I'll be in the corner somewhere, yelling at Lance to get his sorry ass over here." My sister shoved the door open. "I'll see you out here in a minute."

  "Hey, Morgan?"

  "Yeah, Gwen.”

  “I love you. You know that, right?"

  "Always and forever." Then she disappeared into the crowd.

  I took a fortifying breath to steady the flutter of butterflies in my stomach.

  Okay, then. I was going to become Mrs. Atticus Price. I'd asked Atticus if he thought his mother should come, but he said no. Besides, his father was more than likely to make an appearance tonight. And if he did, it was going to get ugly.

  The door swung open again, and I laughed. "What did you forget, Morgan?"

  But it wasn't my sister. It was a willowy woman, her skin like porcelain. Her hair was pale like a Nordic goddess, and her eyes were a startling blue, standing out in relief against the paleness of her skin and the fairness of her blond hair.

  "Oh, sorry, I thought you were my sister."

  "You're Gwenyth, aren't you?"

  "Yeah, do we know each other?"

  "No, I'm Lucy. Hello."

  I shook Lucy's outstretched hand and attempted to place where I'd seen her before. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met. Did Atticus invite you?"

  Lucy's expression froze for a moment before she grinned. "I'm sorry, it's just that Atticus has spoken so much about you, I feel like I know you already."

  My heart started racing at the sound of his name on her voice. "Oh, I see. Well, it's nice to meet you."

  "You too. Atticus is wonderful, isn't he?"

  The way she said his name made my stomach turn. "Yes, he is."

  "We used to be very close."

  My stomach turned. I knew what she was saying. "I'm sorry, but Atticus never mentioned you."

  Lucy's smile didn't falter. "Of course, he wouldn't. But it doesn't matter. I'm happy for him, truly. And for you, Gwen. You're a lucky woman."

  I forced a smile. "Yes, I am."

  Lucy's eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a chill run down my spine. "But just remember, Gwen. Sometimes the past can come back to haunt you in unexpected ways. I know it seems like it'll work, but it's not real. Men like him don't stay with mediocre. They like to elevate. So you have to ask yourself why he's chosen you."

  Before I could respond, Lucy had turned and walked out of the room.

  I couldn't breathe. My heart was beating a staccato pattern against my ribs.

  It's not true. It's not true. He's chosen you. Because he needs you.

  God I needed air. I tripped out of the bathroom. If I could just make it to the outside, I could breathe.

  As I stepped out onto the balcony, I gasped for air, leaning against the railing for support. The cool night air felt like a balm washing over me and clearing my head. I tried to push Lucy's words out of my mind, but they lingered like a bad dream.

  Why had Atticus chosen me? He told me he’d always made the deal for me, not for my sister, but I’d learned not to trust men. Especially men who wanted to make deals with my father. I shook my head, trying to dispel the doubts.

  I heard the balcony door open behind me, and I turned to see Atticus standing there, a concerned look on his face. "Gwen, are you okay? I've been looking for you."

  I tried to smile, but it felt like a grimace. "I'm fine. Just needed some air."

  Atticus stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch my arm. "Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

  I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should tell him about Lucy's visit. But then I shook my head, not wanting to start a fight at our engagement party. "No, nothing happened. I just needed a moment."

  Atticus stepped closer, his hand still on my arm, his eyes searching mine. "Gwen, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you, always."

  I nodded, wanting to believe him, but the doubt lingered in the back of my mind. "I know, Atticus. It's just… I guess I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed tonight."

  "Two more weeks until we get married. You're not getting cold feet are you?"

  I tilted my head up. "Are you?"

  His wintergreen gaze searched mine. "Where's this coming from? I thought we were on the same page. We've been getting closer."

  "It's just…" My voice trailed. "I met Lucy."

  He blinked in surprise. "Lucy?"

  "Your ex. She made it clear that she could take you back anytime and that I'm inferior."

  "That's fucking bullshit." Atticus's voice was low and dangerous as his grip on my arm tightened.

  He was always so calm, collected, and in control. But seeing him angry made me feel safe in a strange way.

  "She's just jealous, Gwen. She knows what we have, and it's eating her alive. She wants what she can't have, and she'll do whatever it takes to get it."

  "But what if she's right?" I whispered, afraid of the answer.

  Atticus took my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze. "She's not right, Gwen. From the moment you glitter-bombed me, I've been completely fascinated by you. Completely enthralled. Your father might have had other plans, but you are who I wanted. You are my little lioness. All fire and claws. There is nothing sexier. Not to mention I've never met anyone so genuinely selfless. I want you. I picked you. Don't let your father or Lucy or anyone else take that away from you. I would rather spend ten minutes arguing with you than a dozen lifetimes with some vapid, empty socialite. You have cracked my heart in two and nestled in there. I am not the same man without you."

  "Atticus."

  "I chose you because you're the only woman I've ever met who challenges me in every way. You're strong, smart, and beautiful. You make me want to be a better man. And I'm not going to let anyone, or anything come between us. Do you understand?"

  I nodded, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "Yeah, I understand."

  Atticus wiped away the tears with his thumbs, his eyes never leaving mine. "Good. Because I'm falling for you and there is no going back. I'm never going to let you go."

  I felt a warmth spread throughout my body at his words. This was what I wanted. Someone who cared about me, who would protect me, who would never let me go.

  "I'm falling for you too, Atticus."

  "That's pretty handy since you're going to be my wife."

  He leaned down for a kiss, and I tilted my head up to meet his. Our lips met, and I felt the passion and love behind it. It was like he was trying to convey all his feelings through that one kiss. I melted into him, feeling like I was the only woman in the world who mattered to him.

  With a groan he tore his lips from mine. "What is it with us and balconies? Come on. Let's go enjoy our party. And then later, I'm going to show you just how hard I've fallen for you."

  "You promise?"

  Chapter 29

  Gwen

  The next two hours passed in a flurry of dancing, eating, and socializing. Atticus made introductions to friends and associates, but I knew I wouldn't remember any of the names.

  In the car on the way home, Atticus was silent. He held my hand, stroking his thumb over my knuckles, but he didn't say much.

  By the time Gavin dropped us off at the penthouse, I was a bundle of nerves.

  We nodded to the doorman and walked in silence to the elevators. Once inside, I couldn't help it. I had to know.

  “Okay, come on. What's wrong?”

  Studying me intently, he asked, “What do you mean what's wrong?”

  “Obviously, I did or said something wrong at some point. Was it that ambassador guy? He asked me a question when my mouth was full, and I couldn't answer right away. Or was it the redhead in the black dress? But that one's not my fault. I'm pretty sure she didn't like me because she wants you for herself. But I did try. I am trying. Are you already regretting this?”

  As the elevator lifted us to the penthouse, he just studied me. “You're worried I'm angry with you?”

  “Yes, of course I'm worried. I don't have much else to go on. We had that beautiful moment on the balcony, and it was perfect and amazing. And I'm so excited to be wearing your ring, and then you're silent the whole drive home. So please, just tell me what I did wrong.”

  “You're worried you've done something wrong because I haven't said anything?”

  “Yes, exactly. You have to communicate with me somehow.”

  The elevator dinged as we reached the penthouse level. We just had to wait for the doors to open. “Did it ever occur to you that the reason I haven't said anything is because I have been trying to behave? There's a lot my mouth wants to do right now, but none of it is fit for polite company or at all related to talking. I've been trying to control myself until I had you alone to show you exactly what I want to do to you.”

  I blinked up at him as my brain clocked everything he just said. Ohhhhh. “You’re not in the mood to talk?”

  His tiny smirk had me pressing my thighs together. “No, I’m not in the mood to talk. But if you want me to communicate, then by all means, allow me.”

  He bent down and scooped me up, causing me to squeal. "Atticus. Oh my God, what are you doing?"

  "Carrying you over the threshold."

  "You're about a week early."