“Says the committed bachelor,” I say.
Fisher just shrugs and grins at me. “Do as I say, not as I do.”
“You need to stop getting ahead of yourself,” I say to Ed. If only he knew that today was our first ... crossover into romantic territory. Before today, it had all been faked. Or maybe none of it had been fake? Not the stuff between just the two of us anyway.
“I mean it, though,” Ed says. “We’re ... we’re a family, you, me, Katherine, and Lucy.” There’s a vulnerability in his tone that hits me at the back of my throat. “You can’t mess this up, Hunter. I don’t want to be choosing between inviting you or Lucy to holidays and celebrations.”
“You said that,” I remind him. “But I’m also serious. You need to behave yourself.”
As if to prove a point, someone taps me on the shoulder. When I look around, there’s a pretty blond girl standing next to me, smiling.
“I was just wondering if you’re single and if you want my number?” She wrinkles up her nose in a way I probably would have found adorable about forty-eight hours ago. “Do I recognize you?” she asks. “Are you famous?”
“Definitely not famous. And not single either. But thanks for asking.” Her face drops a little, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not a celebrity or because I’m not single.
“I have a couple of friends who’re very single,” I say. “But they’re not famous either.” She glances around at our group. “Fisher, meet ...”
“Lindsay,” she says, forgetting me instantly. Fisher stands and they go to the bar.
Not only am I officially taken and unofficially not interested in Lindsay but I’m also a matchmaker. Feels pretty good.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Ed says. “You’re used to beating them off with a stick. You need to get some real good swinging action going, because if you break up with Lucy—which is strictly unacceptable under any circumstances—you definitely can’t cheat on her.”
“Noted,” I reply. I’ve never cheated on anyone. I’ve never really understood men who cheat. If you want a woman other than the one you’re with, break up and be with the new woman. There’s no need to be a dick.
“Consider yourself warned,” Ed says.
I get him being concerned. I really do. If I think about it for too long, I’m concerned too. I don’t want to mess things up so I see Ed even less than I do now. If I was thinking entirely clearly, I should havestayed away from Lucy. That ship has sailed. And honestly, if I think about it, Lucy and I have been heading in this direction since we first laid eyes on each other. I wasn’t immediately attracted to her, but I was immediately interested. She caught my attention, and that says a lot when ninety-nine percent of the time, all my attention is on work.
There’s a kerfuffle on the other side of the bar. When I look up, I see Katherine and the rest of the bachelorette party heading in our direction. Katherine makes a beeline right for Ed, and when Lucy walks right past me, I grab her hand and pull her down on my lap.
“Did you think you could walk straight past me?”
She grins at me, her eyes sparkling in the glow from the tea lights on the table. “Why am I sitting on your lap?”
“Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?” I ask.
She tries not to smile, but she’s terrible at it. The corners of her mouth twitch and her green eyes twinkle. She glances up and around at our party, but no one is paying attention to us. They’re all deep in their own conversations.
“Don’t we hate each other?” she whispers in my ear.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t hate you,” I say, holding her gaze.
“I don’t hate you either.” She squeezes her eyes shut like it’s too much to admit.
I chuckle. “I’m bowled over.” Gliding my hands down her legs, I say, “I don’t hate this.” I sweep my thumb over her lips. “I don’t hate this.” I trail my fingers down from her collarbone, between her breasts, down, down, down. “I don’t hate any of this.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “We’re supposed to hate each other, though.”
I shake my head. “Things change. When you start to dip below the surface, you see things that weren’t there before.”
“Like?”
“Like the way you love your sister. The way you want your mom to love you.”
She frowns at me. “My mom does love me.”
“Right,” I say. “But you’re worried she won’t unless everything’s perfect.” I’m figuring it out as I speak. All the snippets of Lucy are slotting into place, the woman she is coming into focus. She just wants to be loved and accepted. Just like everyone.
