“Was that your dad?” he asks, adjusting his blue tie—the one I gave him last Christmas.
“Yeah. Confirming this weekend.” I dry my hands on a dish towel. “Maria’s repainting the guest room again.”
“Seafoam green lasted longer than I expected.” Skyler grins, checking his watch—a graduation gift from his father.
“Apparently it wasn’t ‘welcoming’ enough.” I make air quotes. “Also, Lily’s having a meltdown about our lack of flower arrangements.”
“Your sister does love a good wedding panic.” He gathers his portfolio and keys. “We should probably start making some decisions, though.”
“This weekend,” I promise. “We’ll make lists and everything.”
He glances at his watch again. “I should head out. Traffic’s going to be brutal with this rain.”
“The Henderson dragon awaits.”
A shadow crosses his face. “Along with the bigger dragon breathing down his neck.”
Robert. Always Robert.
I step closer, straightening his already-perfect tie. “You’ll be brilliant.”
“From your lips to my father’s ears.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
I rise on tiptoes to kiss him, lingering a moment longer than our usual morning goodbye. His arms encircle my waist, drawing me against him like he’s memorizing the feeling.
“I’ll pick up dinner on my way home,” he murmurs against my lips. “That Thai place you like?”
“Perfect.”
He kisses me once more, then reluctantly releases me. “Good luck in court. Text me when you’re done?”
“Always do.” I follow him to the door, leaning against the frame as he steps into the hallway.
Skyler turns back, his expression softening. “I love you, Harley Matthews. Even with questionable hair.”
I touch my still-unruly waves and laugh. “And I love you, Skyler Thompson. Even with your dragon problems.”
His smile is genuine as he walks backward a few steps, maintaining eye contact until he has to turn toward the elevator.
I watch him go, warmth spreading through my chest despite the morning’s undercurrents of tension. In moments like this—simple goodbyes laden with inside jokes and casual affection—that I remember why I said yes when he proposed. Why I’m willing to navigate the complicated landscape of his family’s disapproval.
Because some things are worth fighting dragons for.
I close the door softly, leaning my forehead against the cool wood. Four months until I officially become a Thompson. The thought brings both joy and a flicker of apprehension. I push away from the door and head to the bedroom to finish getting ready, leaving the dishes half-done in the sink.
Dragons can wait. Today, I have children to fight for.
Chapter 2
Skyler
Islide my key card through the reader, watching the light blink from red to green. Thompson Architectural Group—my father’s name before mine, always. The glass doors part with a soft whoosh, ushering me into the lobby where everything gleams in silver and blue. Father’s colors. Father’s building. Father’s legacy that I’m expected to uphold while simultaneously never quite measuring up to it. I check my watch: eight-fifteen. Early enough to slip into my office before Robert emerges from his morning meeting with the board. I’ve perfected workplace avoidance over the past three years of working here.
Once I make it upstairs, my secretary, Angela, sits at her desk outside my office, already fielding calls and organizing the day’s schedule.
Her dark-rimmed glasses slip down her nose as she looks up. “Morning,” she says, passing me a steaming cup of coffee. “Henderson called. Wants to know if you’ve incorporated the changes to the east wing design.”
“Tell him they’ll be in his inbox by noon.” I take the coffee, grateful for its bitter warmth. “Any sign of the dragon this morning?”
