Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

As Dax and I stood in the short line at the hostess station, I carefully adjusted the position of my rose gold bracelet. It was no shock that his business dinner was being held at this particular restaurant. Many were. In fact, I’d met with clients here on a number of occasions.

With its white and gold color palette, the place was elegant with a regal vibe. Beautiful paintings adorned the walls. The occasional sculpture and pretty plant could be seen. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, ensuring the space was well lit but not too bright.

Tables covered in alabaster-white tablecloths were dotted about the space. Waiters and waitresses weaved between them, smoothly navigating the labyrinth. Delicious scents wafted from steaming plates that either sat on tables or were being carried on trays.

It wasn’t loud or rowdy. No boisterous laughter, no shrieking kids, no babies crying. The air gently pulsed with soft murmurs, low classical music, and the clinking of silverware.

My only complaint was that the air conditioning was a little too cool. Goosebumps swept up my skin, making me wish that the collar of my black jumpsuit didn’t diagonally slash across my chest, leaving one shoulder and arm bare.

Hearing a soft feminine giggle, I looked at the couple directly in front of us. They were so cute. They kept leaning into each other, whispering and chuckling. His fingers were splayed possessively on her back, and he repeatedly brushed kisses over her temple.

I slid a quick look at the man beside me. The beginnings of a wan smile touched my lips. Here we were standing close enough that our arms touched. Thrilling, I thought dryly.

I wondered what he’d do if I leaned into him and kissed his cheek or something. Probably jerk away with a what the hell? glare. The image was funny enough to tempt me to go through with it.

When we eventually reached the front of the line, Dax told the hostess we were meeting others here. She informed us that some were already seated at the table and gestured for us to follow her. Dax swept out a hand, indicating for me to go first. I trailed behind the hostess, my high heels clicking on the floor.

We paused at one point as a large group rose from a nearby table and made moves to leave. One by one, they carefully filed past us. A particular male stopped as he caught sight of me.

His mouth curved in a kind of surprised delight. “Addison, how are you?”

I smiled. “I’m fine, thanks, Beckett. How’s everything with you?” We’d dated once upon a time. He was a nice guy, but he’d been put off by my trust fund.

“Great,” he replied. “Couldn’t be better.”

A heavy hand rested on the base of my spine and slowly slid upwards until it curved around my nape, making my pulse do a tap dance. I felt Dax’s body heat radiate against my back as he shifted closer, blanketing me in his cologne.

“Beckett,” he smoothly cut in, “it’s been a while.”

My ex’s smile widened. “Dax, good to see you.” He held out his hand, and Dax used his free hand to shake it. Beckett then looked from him to me. “I heard you two were married. Congratulations.”

Dax thanked him and then went on to ask him about his family. He was all charm and ease and amiableness as he spoke. The entire time, his hand remained a warm weight on the back of my neck.

I might have contributed to the conversation if I wasn’t feeling a little rocked by Dax’s hold. With the exception of our wedding day, he hadn’t touched me much in public. And definitely not like this. Not with pure male possession. It was making my heart pound and my hormones melt.

Finally, he rounded up the conversation.

“It was real good seeing you both again,” Beckett told us. “Take care.” With that, he shrugged past us.

Dax’s hand glided from my nape down to the spot between my shoulder blades, and then he gently urged me forward. I followed the hostess to a table not too far away, and the people there graciously stood with polite smiles.

After greetings and introductions were exchanged, Dax and I took our seats. Several people made a point of congratulating us on our marriage.

A graying male with rugged features pointed at me. “You must be related to Ollie and Dane Davenport. You remind me of them.”

I nodded. “Ollie is my brother; Dane is my father.”

“I’ve had the pleasure of doing business with both in the past,” he told me. “They’re ruthless men.”

I smiled. “Excellent compliment.”

Some soft chuckles drifted around the table.

“When and where did you two meet?” one of the wives asked, her pretty blue gaze dancing from me to Dax.

He replied, “We’ve known each other for many years. Our families are well-acquainted. I’ve done business with Dane myself on a number of occasions.”

How wonderfully he completely dodged her question. She didn’t even seem to have noticed.

Other questions floated our way …

How’s married life?

Where did you go on your honeymoon?

Did Dane bless the wedding or does he hate Dax for making the cardinal sin of touching one of his daughters?

On and on it went.

Dax answered for us, working around the questions he didn’t want to fully answer; outright lying at other times.

When the attention finally eased off us, I leaned into him and whispered, “You’re good at that. Bullshitting, I mean. I actually envy just how skilled you are at it.” I noticed one side of his lips quirk.

His thigh bumped mine beneath the table as he placed his mouth near my ear. “Were you ever involved with Beckett?” The words tickled my ear, stirring the little hairs there. It wasn’t really a question, it was a guess.

“Only briefly a few years ago,” I replied. “Why?”

Dax’s only response was a flat hum.

It was right at that moment that the rest of the guests arrived. Soon after, the server took orders and then melted away. The small talk around the table changed to business matters once the food and wine appeared.

A few of the wives seemed to work with their husbands, so they were sure to make their input known on the aforementioned matters. The other women at the table—myself included—didn’t contribute much. I mostly just watched and listened.

One flirted a little with Dax—not taking it so far that it couldn’t be considered playful, but enough that I wanted to throw my fork at her. Instead, I kept a placid smile on my face, refusing to make any kind of scene. It wasn’t as if he was giving her any encouragement. In fact, he made a point of not making much eye-contact with her, which increasingly irritated her as the evening went on. Ha.

Well, at least I’d got to talk a little about Sapphire Glade. People had only asked out of politeness what I did for a living, but several had requested a business card.

The food was absolutely amazing, if not a little pretentious. But I couldn’t deny that I was relieved when the dinner was over.

Outside, we slid into his car. Clicking on my seatbelt, I gave him a false grin. “Wow, that was so much fun.”

“Yes, you looked riveted by the conversation.” His tone was as dry as mine.

“You seemed a little bored yourself at times.”

Driving out of the lot, he said, “There’s often too much circling around ideas and proposals. It’s sometimes like a dance. I’m too direct and eager to move forward for me to have much patience for that.”

I’d be the same in his shoes. Dithering frustrated me. I’d rather make a decision and act on it than spend too much time deliberating.

“How serious were you and Beckett?”

The unexpected question made my forehead crease. “Not very. We weren’t together long.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “Quite simply, he hadn’t liked that I had more money than he did. He’d wanted me to give up my trust fund—either to charity, or to my siblings.”

Dax let out a scornful grunt. “He wanted you to suffer for his own insecurities, essentially?”

“That was pretty much the case, yes. I refused his request. He understood why but couldn’t accept the situation, so we parted ways. It was an amicable split.” I cocked my head. “Why do you want to know?” He never asked me about my exes. Not even Lake.

He opened his mouth to respond, but then his cell phone rang. As it was linked to the car’s Bluetooth, I could see Raven’s name on the vehicle’s small monitor.

Dax answered the call via Bluetooth, “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you with this, especially on a Saturday night,” she began, sheepish, “but I have a bit of a problem.”

A fine line dented his brow. “What sort of problem?”

She sighed. “Mimi showed up at my place. She wants to stay over. Since I don’t like her habit of throwing crazy parties and all that stuff, I would have turned her away like always. But she’s beyond plastered; I let her in, hoping to sober her up.”

“She’s resisting, though,” Dax guessed, giving me the sense that he’d done this dance with Mimi himself.

“Yes. And she’s breaking my stuff for shits and giggles. There’s no way I’m letting her stay here, but I don’t want to toss her ass out while she’s in such a state. I’d never forgive myself if she ended up dead in an alley somewhere. I’d drag her into my car and drive her to a friend’s house, but I had a few cocktails earlier.”

Dax put pressure on the pedal, upping his speed. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” He hung up and spared me a brief look.

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t even think about taking me home before you go deal with this. I stand with and behind you, remember?”

His lips thinning, he jabbed a finger on the car monitor and scrolled down until he found Caelan’s name in his list of contacts. He then pressed “Call.”

The phone rang a few times before his brother answered, “This better be important.”

“Mimi showed up on Raven’s doorstep blitzed,” Dax told him, his hands flexing on the steering wheel. “She’s being … difficult.”

“Shit,” muttered Caelan.

“Raven wants to drop her off somewhere else, but she’s been drinking too so can’t drive. I’m on my way to her place now to pick up Mimi, but you’re closer. Can you head there so Raven’s not alone with her?”

“I’ll leave now,” Caelan replied, his voice curt.

When the call ended, I frowned at Dax. “Why wouldn’t you want Raven to be alone with her?”

He exhaled heavily. “Generally, Mimi is a happy drunk who wants only to sing, dance, and laugh. But sometimes, she can be mean and get handsy. That she’s breaking things isn’t a good sign.”

I scraped my teeth over my lower lip. “Do you think she’d actually hurt Raven?”

“Maybe not. But I’m not taking any chances. She took a swing at my mom once, but my father jumped between them. Another time, Mimi punched her own cousin. And all because they told her she’d had enough to drink.”

I whistled. “That’s nuts. Your mom would have kicked her ass.” I’d sensed that Kensey was no pushover. And, having been brought up in the rougher areas of Redwater, she was no stranger to physical fights.

His mouth slightly hitched up. “She would have. I think she was disappointed that she wasn’t given the chance.”

Soon, we pulled up outside his sister’s apartment building. It actually belonged to Dax. It was one of several that he owned. As such—knowing not only the entry code but the concierge—he entered the complex with no issue.

As we stepped into the elevator, I spoke, “Is it unusual for Mimi to turn to Raven for somewhere to stay?”

“No.” He jabbed a button on the keypad, and the metal doors soon after closed. “They were friends for a time.”

“I’m guessing Mimi’s homeless.”

“She is, but by choice.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “She’s not struggling for money. Far from it. The inheritance she received from her grandparents is pretty hefty. She could hop from five star hotel to five star hotel if she wanted. But she prefers to stay with friends. Which, on the surface, seems sweet. Except she takes advantage while there. Throws parties. Lives like a slob. Brings home random guys to fuck. Even sometimes does drugs.”

Whoa. “How many times has she stayed with you?”

“Once. That was years ago. Once was enough.”

“What happened?”

“I told her she could stay for a few days. She made a pass at me. I turned her down. When I came home from work the next day, a bunch of people I’d never met were partying in my apartment. Music was blasting. The place reeked of weed, beer, and sex. She was lying on the living room floor letting guys snort lines of cocaine off her bare ass.”

I felt my jaw go slack. “Wow.” Rubbing at my nape, I added, “It sounds like extreme attention-seeking behavior to me.”

He gave a fluid shrug. “Whatever the case, she has sabotaged a lot of her friendships and alienated family members by acting this way.”

Ah, yes, I remembered he’d spoken of how she’d burned many bridges in Redwater.

The elevator came to a halt, and the doors glided open. I followed Dax down a hallway and round a corner. Finally, he stopped outside a door and wrapped his knuckles on it.

Moments later, it swung open to reveal Raven. She blew out a relieved breath and meekly greeted, “Hey.” As we shrugged past her, she took in our attire. Horror contorted her expression. “Please tell me you weren’t on a date and I cut it short.”

“It was just a business dinner,” I assured her. “We were on our way home when you called.”

A feminine laugh rang out from somewhere in the apartment. On its heels came muffled words grumbled in a male voice laced with agitation.

Raven winced. “Caelan’s not happy. She’s deliberately pushing his buttons. I didn’t tell her you’re coming,” she told Dax. “Maybe the shock of seeing you will sober her up some.” She began strolling down a narrow hallway, urging us to follow. The place was bright, airy, and fun with its eclectic vibe.

“Don’t be so anti … anti … antisocial, Caelan,” I heard Mimi slur. “You know, we could have our own private party if you’d stop being such a grouch.”

Cringing, Raven glanced over her shoulder at me and Dax. “She threw herself at poor Caelan when he first entered the room. Even tried performing a strip dance for him.”

I gaped. “You’re kidding.”

“Not to seduce him, to annoy him,” Raven clarified. “And it worked.”

The three of us filed into a room on our left. A kitchen, I quickly realized as I took everything in.

Standing near the large stainless steel fridge, Caelan plucked a bottle of wine out of Mimi’s hands. “No,” he bit out. “You’ve had more than enough booze. You need to sober up.”

She pouted. “Don’t wanna.”

Raven sighed as she approached the pair. “Come on, Mimi, just—”

She swayed. “No, being sober is boring, I—” She did a double-take as Dax sidled up to his sister. Her expression turned sullen and petulant. “What’re you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” said Dax, his own expression vacant.

Her upper lip peeled back. “I don’t wanna talk to you.” Catching sight of me standing a few feet away, she sneered. “I definitely don’t wanna talk to you.”

“Funnily enough, the feeling’s mutual.” Unrequited love was a true bitch, so a part of me felt sorry for her. But only a small part. It was hard to be understanding when it was Dax she loved; when she acted so selfishly where he was concerned and persisted in making things difficult for him.

“Get your things,” he told her, his tone sharp. “You’re leaving.”

Her head whipped back to face him. “No. I’m staying here with Raven. Unlike some people, she’s nice to me.” She staggered backward and bumped into the kitchen island hard.

Ow. That had to hurt. But the alcohol apparently dimmed the pain, because she only chuckled.

Dax looked at his sister. “What did she bring with her?”

“Just the duffel she dumped in the living room,” Raven replied.

“I’ll go get it,” volunteered Caelan, who then stalked out of the kitchen, nodding at me as he went by.

Mimi joined her hands, her eyes lighting up. “You know what we need? Music. Where’s my phone?” She began patting the pockets of her jeans.

“You can’t stay,” said Dax, his voice hardening.

She flapped a hand. “Unclench, will ya. Come on, we’ll have a drink. A toast to Gracie. We’ll let bygones be bygones and whatever.”

Raven flicked the ceiling a quick look. “Mimi—”

“Gracie would have wanted that, wouldn’t she?” She stared at Dax, her lips trembling. “She wouldn’t like that we’re fighting.”

Her choice of words made me frown. She spoke like they were a couple who were at odds with each other. Not that I thought she believed they were a couple, just that she seemed to feel they had a more intimate connection than they did. From what Dax told me, they didn’t have a connection that went beyond their mutual link with Gracie. I suspected he’d otherwise shove Mimi out of his life—he wasn’t a man who suffered any fools.

She swayed a little again. “We didn’t used to fight when Gracie was alive, did we? We got along fine back then. Why can’t we do that now?”

Oh, maybe because she kept coming on to him.

Gulping, she anxiously rubbed at her wrist. “Do you think she’s mad at me? For wanting you? Do you think she hates me like you do?”

I cringed on her behalf. Damn, she was gonna hate herself in the morning if she remembered asking him that.

Raven held up her hands. “Nobody hates you, Mimi. Gracie would certainly never hate you.”

“He does,” Mimi said sulkily. “Did you know he got married? Or did he hide it from you as well?” Her gaze flew back to him. “Why did you do it? I’ll never buy that you love her, so don’t give me that crap.”

He let out a bored sigh. “This is not—”

“Why did you marry her?” It was more or less a whine.

I wanted to give her a mouthful of shit—point out that it was none of her business; that she needed to stop pining after him; that acting out this way wasn’t going to achieve anything—but it would only escalate the situation. That would bowl over the attempts of Dax and the others to defuse it.

Caelan reentered the kitchen, a duffel in hand.

Mimi’s glassy eyes dipped to it, and her brow furrowed. “You know, that looks just like my bag. We have the same taste.”

Unreal.

“Time to leave,” said Dax, tipping his head toward the door.

She backed up fast, crashing into the island again. “No. I like it here. And I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You don’t have a choice in that,” he told her, a chill to his voice. “You’ve been your usual, destructive self and so overstayed your welcome here. But you’re too wasted to be left alone, so one of us needs to take you somewhere safe.”

She scoffed. “Like you give a shit if I’m safe. You don’t care about me.” She swallowed, her eyes glistening. “Why won’t you care about me? Why can’t you want what I want?” She stumbled toward him.

He lifted a hand to ward her off. “Don’t,” he ordered, his voice sharp. “We’re not doing this again. I’ve told you many times that you’re pushing for something you’re never going to have. I’ve also told you why, but you’re choosing not to listen. If you’d prefer to ignore me, do that. But I’m not going to cover old ground yet again. And if the fact that I married someone else doesn’t clearly spell out for you that I don’t—and never will—want a future with you, I doubt anything will.”

Harsh words, harsh tone, but I couldn’t blame him for feeling so exasperated.

The distress fled from her expression in a rush, rapidly replaced by anger. “You can be so cruel sometimes. It’s because your exes are right—you’re cold inside. I see that now. What warmth you had died with Gracie. And now you can’t love anyone.”

Bristling, I spoke up, “You don’t believe that. You want to believe he’s dead inside because then it will hurt less that he doesn’t feel for you what you feel for him. But you know it’s pure bull.”

Her cheeks flaming with rage, she pointed at me again while cutting her gaze back to Dax. “Get her out of here,” she imperiously ordered … liked this was her home and he lived to serve her. “I don’t want her near me.”

More like she didn’t want to hear what I had to say, because she knew it to be true and didn’t want to face it.

“The only person who’s leaving is you, Mimi,” Caelan cut in. “Even if I have to carry you out of here, you’re leaving.” He looked at Dax. “I’ve got this. You and Addison head home.”

“Home,” Mimi spat. “How cozy.” She flashed a sly smirk my way. “Did Dax tell you about us? About the times we slept together?”

I shot her a Bitch, please look. “That never happened, and we both know it.”

“But the press doesn’t.” Her smirk widening, she turned back to him. “Imagine what the world would think if they thought you’d slept with your dead girlfriend’s identical twin. Imagine the pretty lies I could tell them.”

I went motionless. Oh, that motherfucking skank. I would have marched over there and gotten right in her face if Caelan hadn’t grabbed my arm.

“Imagine how much they’d lap that shit up,” Mimi went on. “There are other things I could tell them. Things about Gracie. Goody-two shoes, Gracie. She wasn’t really so perfect, you know.” With a gasp, Mimi slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide.

I tensed. Now what in the hell was that supposed to mean?

Dax slowly stalked into her personal space. “If you want to join the list of women who talked to the tabloids, you do that,” he welcomed, his words coming low and unrushed. “I don’t care what the world thinks of me. The question is … will you care that you’ll have burned every last bridge you have? Let’s face it, there aren’t many.”

Her eyes flickering, she flexed her fingers. “I wish I could say I hate you. I really do.” The admission was quiet. Sad. Self-pitying.

Unmoved by that, Dax said, “Caelan’s going to take you to one of your friend’s houses now. Don’t be any more difficult than you already have been—for Raven’s sake, if nothing else. She’s always been a good friend to you. You’ve disrespected her enough for one night, don’t you think?”

Releasing my arm, Caelan crooked his fingers at Mimi. “Let’s go.”

Straightening to her full height, she swept her hands down her sides. “Fine. For Raven, I’ll go quietly.” She pretty much weaved her way to him.

I stilled, bracing myself for her to do something dumb like launch herself at me. Not that it would work—her balance was shit, Caelan was right there, and the others would step in if he didn’t—but it seemed that she wasn’t the most rational of people when drunk. She didn’t pounce, however. She instead painted a haughty expression on her face and didn’t even glance my way, as if I wasn’t worth her attention.

Right back at you, heifer.

Honestly, I got the feeling that the real reason she’d so easily left without incident was that she wanted out of here so she could escape being questioned over what she’d said about Gracie. She’d startled herself by blurting that out. Panic had rippled across her face.

Also guilt.

But was she playing Dax? If Gracie had done something that would hurt him, wouldn’t Mimi have told him about it in an effort to make him let her sister go?

He hadn’t reacted to her comment. Hadn’t so much as batted an eyelid. He’d been more bothered by her threat to talk to the press. Which said he either trusted Gracie so implicitly that he wouldn’t believe she’d done anything to wrong him, or he simply thought Mimi was attempting to dick with him.

Once I heard the apartment front door close, I puffed out a breath. “That was rough. Are you okay, Raven?”

“Yeah.” Her shoulders drooped. “It’s just sad that things are the way they are, you know? It isn’t the first time she’s showed up here moaning about how much she wishes she could stop feeling anything for Dax. But it was different this time. She’s bitter. Resentful. I expected it, because it was inevitable that she’d be pissed that he’s married. But I didn’t expect her to say she was considering selling her own story to the tabloids.”

Anger once more sparking in my gut at the mere thought of it, I looked at Dax, whose jaw was hard. “Do you think she’d really do it? Or do you think she’s just blowing off steam?”

“It’s hard to say.” He paused, twisting his lips. “She’s not a cruel person, but neither were my previous girlfriends who sold their stories. You don’t need to be a shitty person to do something shitty; you just need to feel motivated to do it.”

“And just maybe you being married is giving Mimi that motivation,” I mused, following his train of thought.

He inclined his head. “Maybe.”

One thing was for certain: If the woman dared pull that stunt, I would make her life even more miserable than it already was.

I turned to Raven. “Come on, let’s get whatever mess she created cleaned up.”

After we’d all trashed the broken glasses, righted the upturned coffee table, and cleaned the wine-spill from the living room hardwood floor—which now had a noticeable dent, courtesy of Mimi “playfully” stabbing it with the fireplace poker—Dax and I said our goodbyes to his sister and left the complex. In silence, we returned to his car and fastened our seatbelts.

It wasn’t until we were halfway home that I broke the silence and said, “I felt a little bad for Mimi right up until she made noises about talking to the press.”

He spared me a quick glance. “Felt bad for her?”

“A little,” I repeated, emphatic. “I obviously am pissed that she won’t respect your wishes but, well, we don’t choose who we fall for. It just happens. She doesn’t want to love you—that’s more than obvious. She’d change it if she could.”

“She doesn’t love me, Addison,” he upheld, his tone the verbal equivalent of a hand flick. “Not really.”

I felt my brows dip. “Why do you think that?”

“I don’t think it. I’m certain of it.”

“What makes you so sure, then?”

“You can’t love someone you don’t know. You can think you do, because you have all that room to imagine they have traits they don’t have; that they’ll make the perfect partner. But you only really love the impression of them that exists in your mind.”

I cocked my head. “And you feel that Mimi doesn’t really know you?”

“For years she’s been holding out hope that she could eventually make me succumb to her advances. She’s Gracie’s sister—I’d never go there. Not even in my mind. If Mimi truly knew me, she’d be well-aware of that; she wouldn’t have wasted her time or energy.”

I dipped my chin. “Yeah, that is a good point. But sometimes, we can fool ourselves into believing what brings us most comfort. She needs to believe she has a chance with you, even as she hates herself for wanting that chance. Or needed to believe. It should be past tense now. You marrying me forced her to face the reality of the situation.”

“Is she really facing reality, though? It didn’t seem that way. She may not like that we’re married, but she’s not taking my commitment to you seriously.”

“True,” I realized, thinking on it. “In her mind, you can’t possibly love me, so I’m someone to be pitied and ridiculed. But while she doesn’t buy that you’re committed to me, she can’t shrug it off or ignore it. Because the fact remains that you married someone, whatever your reason, and that ‘someone’ wasn’t Mimi—that in and of itself says you don’t want her.”

He sighed. “Things would be easier if she’d long ago accepted that. But she’s always been someone who wants what she can’t or shouldn’t have. And if she does eventually get such things, she then stops wanting them.”

I opened my mouth to ask about the little comment Mimi made about Gracie … but then I thought better of it. If he’d thought there was any substance to it, he’d have surely questioned her about it. If I brought it up, there was a chance he might simply get insulted on Gracie’s behalf, feeling I was doubting the deceased woman’s integrity.

“What?” Dax prodded, having noticed I was about to speak.

Thinking fast on my feet, I lied,“I was just wondering if Mimi showed this same interest in you before Gracie died.”

“No, she didn’t,” he replied, switching gears. “I never got the sense that that was where her head was at in those days. So either she hid it well, or this was a later development.”

The weary look on his face made me ache for him. Much as I had more questions, I figured it would be best to let them lie. They weren’t important. Mimi wasn’t important. What mattered right then was somehow lifting his mood.

“Want me to vomit in her purse for you?” I asked, smiling when a surprised chuckle—weak though it was—bubbled out of him. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d relish slapping the piss out of her. But a stinging face can be soothed pretty fast and with little effort. The stench of puke clinging to the fibers of your purse, however? Yeah, that doesn’t go away so easily. And I’m all about leaving a lasting impression.”

His lips curving, he gave me a quick glance. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather you weren’t vomiting.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“I would. I want you healthy, not sickly—no matter the reason.”

Aw, how cute. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“All right. But if you change your mind, let me know. I mean it, the offer will continue to stand.”

His lips twitched into a wider and more genuine smile. “I’ll bear that in mind.”