Paris
I WASN’T EXPECTING a family affair.
Pausing at the mirror at the bottom of the stairs, I took a moment to re-tie my new, glossy red hair into a fresh tail. When I was done, I simply stared into my own eyes, watching the spark grow brighter in the deep depths every second.
This was a new beginning for me. Something I’d longed for. A sense of belonging. It seemed like a million years ago when I’d come down these very steps looking for the same women who were now in the kitchen.
My kitchen.
It sounded a little odd, even in my own head.
I’d never really had a my. Sure, I’d had apartments and condos, but nothing I thought of as truly mine.
Not until now.
Tyler just had that way about him of making me feel like I belonged.
He always had.
Smiling at my reflection, I gave myself one final look over and then walked into the kitchen to see if I could help.
The guys were in the rec room playing pool, but the girls were nowhere to be found.
The kitchen was empty but the mix of delectable aromas hit me right away. I was starving. Hors d’oeuvres lined the counter and at least ten different bottles of wine were opened and spread throughout.
I spotted both California Jane and Highway 128 and smiled.
Nice touch, ladies.
I crossed over and poured myself a glass of white, opting for the California Jane because I felt like a Pinot, not because it was better or anything like that. Then I simply stood there, holding the glass, looking out in the softening light over the hills to the pretty little pond I could hardly see any more due to the overgrowth that surrounded it.
Still, it was beautiful.
Perfect.
“God! Do I need some of that!” Darcy strode in with a box of cupcakes in her hand and practically slammed them down. Her brunette hair was styled in a neat bob, and her eyes, bright and blue, rolled as she poured herself a glass of red wine. “Lane is relentless.”
I grinned at her. “What can I do to help?”
She let out a huge groan as she dropped down to sit on the barstool. “Nothing,” she sighed. “Sorry if I’m cranky. It’s just I worked late last night and then Lane had me running around all day. I’m exhausted.”
“You’re not cranky,” I laughed. “I promise.”
Darcy wore high-waisted jeans and a silk blouse that tied at the neck with a simple pair of diamond earrings. No nonsense. I liked that about her. She took a sip of her wine. “Oh, I needed that. Much better now.”
The back door opened and the gust of cold wind brought both Tabitha and Lane, each carrying tin-foiled trays in their hands.
I set my glass down and hurried to them. “Let me help.”
Lane set her load down and waved me away. “We got it. Relax.”
Darcy eyed her over the rim of her glass. “Are we done yet or do we have a fire station to feed, as well?”
“Excuse me for wanting to have enough food,” Lane retorted. She was so elegant. With her shiny black hair pinned up in a chignon, her red cashmere sweater with its faux rhinestone collar, her fine black slacks, and those pointy flat shoes, she really did look like the perfect politician’s wife.
Tabitha sighed and waved her hands in the air, blowing on them as if to warm them. “That’s everything.”
“Why didn’t you ask the guys to unload?” I asked.
Pouring herself a glass of white, Highway 128, I might add, Tabitha tilted her head and batted her long lashes. “Because they might spill something in Lane’s precious BMW.”
Tabitha wore leather leggings, sky-high ankle booties, and a deep cut, hot pink cashmere sweater that showed off her amazing cleavage in a way only she could pull off.
Lane, pouring herself a glass of California Jane Cabernet, turned to her. “Excuse me for wanting to keep my car nice,” she said tersely. “But since your backseat is loaded with baby wipes and Cheerios, I get why you wouldn’t understand that.”
Tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder, Tabitha said, “FYI, Emerson doesn’t even eat Cheerios yet and those are breast pump bags, not baby wipes.”
Lane shivered and Darcy broke out in laughter. “Babies aren’t contagious, Lane, you do know that, right?”
“Of course.” Lane didn’t look convinced as she dipped a shrimp in the cocktail sauce and bit it delicately.
These women were best friends and nothing they said to each other was taken as malice or with ill-will. I was fascinated by their relationship. In L.A., everyone was fake and wanted something from you. Genuine wasn’t a word tossed around, at all.
Darcy was still enlightening Lane about babies but broke off as the men came into the room, laughing in hysteria.
“What’s so funny?” Tabitha demanded to know.
“Women.” Tyler set down the plate of brie he’d been eating and strode toward me. “These clowns seem to think flowers and chocolate are the best way to beg forgiveness, and I completely disagree.”
“I think flowers and chocolates are kind of sweet,” Darcy insisted, “but it depends on the situation, I suppose. What is the situation, Tyler?”
He was gorgeous as he approached me. All long, lean body. Strong. Confident. Beautiful to look at. Even surrounded by his friends, there was so much raw power emanating from him.
I was suddenly struck with the reason why I was always so drawn to him, and it wasn’t just his sex appeal—I felt safe. I felt secure. I felt adored.
He rubbed the back of his head, causing his hair to stick up even more. “Let’s just say, I did what I always do.”
“Classic Tyler,” Christian joked, using a toothpick to pop a canapé into his mouth.
No more chips and solo cups for this crowd.
“I don’t know, Ty, that kind of apology might require something a little bigger.”
“Yeah, like diamonds or a personality replacement.”
Tyler just shook his head. He didn’t seem to care about the knocks, though, because he was too busy roaming my body with his hot gaze.
I’d changed out of my blue jeans and into a pair of tight, black skinny jeans, tossed on an off-shoulder-cashmere sweater that I’d gotten on sale in L.A. last winter, and chunky ankle boots.
And I could tell he liked it, a lot.
Taking my glass from my hand, he brought it to his lips and sipped it. “Interesting choice. A little CJ.” He grinned and it was wickedly sexy.
“It was the closest bottle.”
Handing it back to me he said, “Good try.”
I shrugged a little. “So I like your Pinot better. You don’t have to gloat about it.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “No gloating here. It just shows you have good taste.”
Arrogant SOB.
After pouring himself a glass of CJ, of which I guessed we were now calling California Jane, he leaned against the counter. Crossing one long leg over the other at the ankle, he slid his hand down my back. In his white tee and dark denim jeans with his combat boots he was so James Dean.
I couldn’t help but shiver under his touch.
The rich, strong scent of Merlot wafted under my nose. I could practically taste the aroma on my tongue, but I didn’t reach for a sip. I’d rather taste it on his lips—later.
He popped a grape into his mouth from the bowl beside him. “You happy?”
Swallowing emotion I couldn’t contain, I nodded. “Surprisingly, yes.”
His grin turned devilish as he brought a grape to my lips. “Knew you would be. Just had to give me a chance.”
Had I done that?
Or was I waiting for him to fail?
I honestly didn’t know.
“To the happy couple,” Grayson cheered, raising his glass.
Everyone raised their glasses in congratulations to Tyler and me—the happy couple. Even me.
And at the moment . . . we were.