“Laney.”
“Yeah?” My wife pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at Petra without an ounce of dislike or anger.
“Can we… get a coffee this week? Or dessert? Or something?”
Laney didn’t even take a second before nodding. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
Petra nodded, and her face returned to her usual mask of not giving a fuck. “Great. If you can find a place, I can arrange a car to pick us up.”
Laney chuckled at that. “We’re not in the city, Petra. I’ll meet you in the café at the hotel. Barb runs it and makes the best cinnamon rolls you’ve ever had in your life. I’m not sure how long you’re in town, but let’s try Friday morning?”
“Done. Seven a.m.?”
“Hmm, life is a little slower here. How about eight?
“See you then.”
Petra steeled her shoulders and walked into the pizza place, leaving my wife and me standing outside in the cold. All the nerves and worries from the day slipped away as I pulled her toward me.
“Honesty. I feel like I can breathe now that I’m with you again.”
“Honesty,” she whispered, her face smooshed against my chest. “Me too.”
“Let’s get you home. Do you want me to stop and get soup anywhere? Or crackers?”
She gave me a gooey smile, the one that had made me fall in love with her ten years ago.
“Maybe we can convince my parents to let you spend the night?”
“Not yet, but soon.” I kissed her softly and asked something I should’ve been asking the last five years. “I want to hear all about your event today. Can you show me some photos?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LANEY
Friday morning arrived fast. Connor had yet to spend the night or do more than kiss me—which was starting to annoy me. He’d work all day and then spend dinner or the evening with me without his phone on him.
Our time together couldn’t possibly last, but I was enjoying it. He even somehow found a Polaroid camera and snapped a few photos of us. Then he created a makeshift collage out of them.
He was being too freaking cute. It made my stomach flutter, yet the flutters turned to nerves at the thought of meeting Petra at the hotel. She had never, once, asked me for coffee the whole time she and Connor have been working together. She was always polite to me. She’d sit by me at work events, chatting with me. But never just the two of us. I even tried asking Connor about it, but he shook his head and said he wasn’t getting involved. He did share that he’d told Petra I came first, and if that wasn’t clear, then that was on him, and everyone in the company should know I was a priority.
“How’s the tum?” My dad leaned against the kitchen counter, dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a dorky T-shirt. It readI HAVE A DIVERSE PORTFOLIOwith different photos of tools.
“Better, yeah.” I rubbed my gut. “Still a little weird midmorning, but as long as I eat and it’s not empty, I’m okay.”
“Good. Your mom wants to try this new recipe tonight, and I want to support her, but you gotta nod and tell her it’s awesome, even if it’s not.”
My lips quirked. “Dad.”
“Don’t give me that look. Sometimes you have to lie a little bit to keep the peace. She thinks I love asparagus, but you wanna know something? I hate it. I hate that food so much, but twice a month she bakes it with bacon and watches me with this smile on her face, so I choke it down.” He laughed and wet a towel, then wiped the counter as he glanced over his shoulder at me. “If tonight’s recipe has asparagus, I might not survive.”
I laughed, definitely picturing meals from childhood that involved that vegetable. “You know she wouldn’t care, right?”
He recoiled. “Are you kidding? She’d be devastated and then pissed. Nope. It’s a lie I started before we married, and now I have to stick with it. It’s the only secret we have.” He pointed a finger at me. “So zip it.”
“Yes, sir, but, Dad, I don’t think I can do dinner.”
“Why the hell not?”
