"What about the custody hearing?" I whisper against his neck, breathing in his familiar scent of expensive cologne and pure male pheromones.
"Radha's lawyer is brilliant. And the DNA results came back. Posey is definitely my daughter. The custody case is swinging our way now."
Our way.
The words hit me like lightning.
"So we have a chance against Jason?"
His hand finds mine beneath the table, fingers interlacing with a touch that sends fire straight to my core.
"More than a chance, Tara." His thumb traces circles on my palm. "This time, we win."
The word 'we' hangs in the air between us, loaded with promise and possibility.
In his eyes, I see everything I've been dreaming about since I left Nantucket—family, forever, a future where I don't have to choose between love and survival.
"What does that mean for us?" I ask, barely daring to breathe.
Cameron's other hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing across my lower lip. "It means I'm not letting you go again, Cinderella. Not this time."
Before I can respond, his mouth captures mine in a kiss that’s slow and sure. I feel it all the way through me.
Tight in my chest, and warm between my legs. Like everything in me is sayingyes, yes, yes.
And I can't wait for more.
CHAPTER 48
TARA
Four lives.Only one me.
College student Tara racing across campus in worn sneakers, stuffing notebooks in and out of her backpack between classes.
Cocktail waitress Tara working the sleek Taboo VIP room in high heels and provocative fishnets. Dodging wandering hands while earning five times what I made as a glassy.
Opera intern Tara shadowing Mr. Rudin at the Met, learning the intricate choreography of world-class productions.
But it’s the fourth life that makes my pulse race every time my phone buzzes.
My life as Cameron’s secret girlfriend, trading texts that leave me breathless in the middle of lecture halls.
The distance between us is killing me.
Twenty-seven days since I've felt his hands on my skin, since I've heard that rough laugh that starts low in his chest.
Texted photos of Posey's artwork are cute, but I want crayon masterpieces cluttering my refrigerator. Not pixels on a screen.
"What's going on with you?" Keesha asks when I glide through our apartment door, still buzzing from Cameron's latest message.
"Cameron's in the city. Sterling Records meeting."
I can barely keep the excitement out of my voice. "He wants to take me to dinner."
"Where?"
"Per Se." Even saying it makes my stomach flutter. "That place in Columbus Circle. Right near Taboo."
