“You know, I think we need to lift the ban on showering together,” Caine grumbled as he sauntered down the stairs and into the kitchen.

I snorted and held out his mug of coffee before returning my attention to the notes I had spread all over the kitchen counter. “There was a reason we banned it. It was called being late for work,” I murmured absentmindedly.

The mug was removed from my hand and I narrowed my eyes on the list of boutiques Nadia had mentioned, wondering how on earth I was going to get around them all in a day.

“I didn’t mind.”

“You didn’t mind what?” I pulled out the map of Boston I’d printed off. I’d used the computer to place the boutiques on the map so I could work out the most efficient route for visiting them all.

“Being late.”

“You’re the boss,” I reminded him. “You can do what you like. I have a boss who wasn’t happy at my excuse for lateness.”

“That’s because Bree needs to get laid.”

“Caine.” I looked up at him in admonishment.

He gestured to my face. “Ah, there she is.”

Confused, I wrinkled my nose.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to look up from that thing.” He tapped the huge folder in front of me. “A ‘good morning’ would be nice.”

I winced. “Sorry. I’m just feeling the pressure with this one.” I cocked my head to the side and gave him a soft, flirtatious smile. “And was my good morning this morning in bed not satisfying enough?” I referred to the fact that I’d woken him up with my mouth.

Caine leaned across the counter so our noses were practically touching. “This morning was very nice, but I’d quite like it when I come down to get my coffee in the morning if my wife would look at me. Maybe even throw in a kiss or two.”

I smiled and lifted my left hand to cup his face, the three diamonds on my engagement ring sparkling in the light next to my wedding band. “I don’t mean to neglect you.” I brushed my lips over his apologetically. “And I promise when Nadia returns from the land of Bridezilla you will get me back.”

Caine pressed his mouth to mine, his kiss harder, searching. I moaned and melted into him, wishing with all my heart that Nadia’s wedding was over already.

Nadia had gone up in the world and was now a cohost on Boston’s most-watched breakfast show. In fact, a lot had changed in the thirty months since my whole world turned upside down and Caine finally admitted he loved me.

Not long after I started looking for a new job, I was approached by Henry’s friend Bree Stanton, a socialite turned professional career woman who had worked her ass off to create the most elite events management company in Boston. She offered me a job as an events planner and I’d fallen in love with the position almost instantly. We managed many of the biggest events on the social calendar, including weddings. And Nadia Ray’s wedding was a huge event, not only because of her celebrity status but because she’d managed to tame the untameable and wring a proposal out of Henry. A Lexington getting married was a big deal. A Lexington getting married to Boston’s favorite TV show host was an even bigger deal.

I can’t say I was surprised that Henry proposed to Nadia. I’d seen a difference in the way he interacted with her from the beginning. Despite her local fame, Nadia was down-to-earth, fun, and a real friend. I was over-the-moon for Henry and I was delighted for me because it meant I got to keep Nadia in my life too.

It also meant Nadia came to me to organize the wedding. Bree was ecstatic, and I had the promise of a very nice bonus if I pulled the wedding off without a hitch. So I had my friends’ happiness and a lovely bonus motivating me to get this day exactly the way Nadia wanted. Ever since Henry had proposed to her, she’d transformed into this crazy woman I barely recognized. I could forgive her for the crazy. My experience in wedding planning in the last two and a half years had shown that most brides (not all, though) transformed into hyper versions of themselves. I had every confidence Nadia would return to normal upon her departure for her honeymoon.

Thankfully I didn’t have the opportunity to become one of those brides, because Caine and I didn’t have a huge wedding. We invited our closest friends and family—Effie, Henry, Nadia, Rachel, and Jeff—to witness our very small, very private wedding at Caine’s (now our) summerhouse in Nantucket. I didn’t invite my grandfather, even though I wanted him there, because it was unfair to Caine. So I was shocked to discover Grandpa there on the morning of the wedding, ready to walk me down the aisle. Caine had surprised me by inviting him for me, and that just made me love my husband a million times more than I already did.

Three months after my attack Caine asked me to move in with him. Actually it was only a few weeks after. It took three months for me to agree. It was more about finally giving up my beautiful cozy apartment than not wanting to live with Caine. We were living together anyway. If I didn’t spend the night at his, he was at mine. Finally he got fed up of the back-and-forth and lack of permanency. A month after that he proposed, and two months after that we were married.

His apartment was now our apartment—it was also barely recognizable. Gone were the white leather kitchen stools and the stark black color scheme. In their place was comfortable and gender-neutral furniture with not-so-gender-neutral cushions and throws strewn on them to emulate the coziness of my old apartment.

Caine didn’t even say a word.

To be honest, I think he barely noticed.

He was used to my style now, and wasn’t a guy who was interested in soft furnishings.

“I don’t remember you being this crazy when it was our wedding.” Caine scowled down at the massive folder filled with Nadia’s wedding arrangements.

“That’s because I wasn’t. Moreover, Henry and Nadia’s wedding is for a hundred and fifty guests. We had six.”

“I liked ours better,” he murmured, sipping his coffee.

“Me too.” I laughed at his petulance, but I really couldn’t blame him. Nadia and Henry’s wedding seemed to be taking over my life at the moment.

“If they weren’t our friends.” He eyed the folder again.

“You can’t burn it,” I said.

Caine grinned at me. “Get out of my head.”

“I don’t want to.” It was my turn to grumble. “I want to dive into your head and take you to bed and have my wicked way with you.” I pushed the map away from me. “Instead I’m spending today hopping from one bridal boutique to the next trying to find the perfect bridesmaid dresses because Nadia has become obsessed with using homegrown designs.” I bugged my eyes out in frustration. “She’s not even from Boston.”

His lips twitched. “This is why you shouldn’t work with friends.”

“We did okay.”

“We were lovers. We were never friends.” To make his point he got up to put his mug in the sink and as he passed me he pressed a kiss to the side of my neck.

Three years on and he still made my toes tingle. “That’s not true. You’re my best friend.”

In answer Caine wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me back against his chest. “You’re mine too, baby. That’s why I’m asking you to put the folder of doom aside tonight so we can go out for a nice meal and spend some time together.”

There was nothing in this world I’d like to do more. “We can’t. We’re having dinner with Nadia and Henry.”

My husband dropped his forehead to my shoulder and groaned. “There’s such a thing as too much ‘friend time.’ ”

I shook with laughter. “We made these plans ages ago. We’re going to the opening of that new restaurant, Smoke.”

“Oh, that sounds appetizing,” he remarked dryly as he pulled up the stool beside me so our knees touched. “A restaurant opening. That means the media will be there.”

He looked weary just at the thought of it and I understood. From the moment Caine and I moved in together, the society papers went nuts. It was even worse when we were seen out and about with our friends. Caine, Henry, Nadia, and I would turn up to events together and the photographers would go mad trying to get pictures of us. Of course, it was a juicy story that Nadia was dating a Lexington. It was an even juicier story that the black sheep of the Holland family (that would be me) had accused her half brother of attempting to have her killed, and was now dating one of the wealthiest men in Boston.

Oh yeah, that was good tabloid fodder.

Not so good for my family.

To his credit, Grandpa had stood by me throughout the whole ordeal. Perhaps part of it was to make amends for his involvement in covering up Caine’s mother’s death, but I knew it was a difficult time for him because my grandmother had left him. Their relationship remained strained and distant up until Matthew’s hearing, where it was decided we had enough evidence against my brother to go to trial. My grandmother started to see sense then and she and my grandpa worked on patching things up.

She still refused to meet me, but I didn’t need her in my life. If her rejection stung a little, I only had to remind myself that I was used to it, and I’d learned some time ago to only want the people in my life who mattered, who cared.

Vernon Holts and Matthew’s case went to trial seven months ago. Holts was convicted of three counts of assault and one count of attempted murder. Six weeks later he was sentenced to twenty-eight years in a maximum-security prison. Matthew was advised by his lawyer to plead guilty because the evidence against him was significant. Not only did we have Holts’s witness statement, but there was also the jewelry that Holts had pawned. Every single piece led back to the Hollands and Matthew’s wife’s family. These were expensive pieces—pieces that were secured in the Hollands’ vault where only family members had access to the code. There were witness accounts from my grandfather’s staff that saw Matthew removing jewelry. But the real stinger was that he’d stupidly confessed the crime to his father-in-law when Holts got out of control. For whatever reasons, whether it was to protect his daughter and grandson from his son-in-law’s stupidity, or his sense of justice, Matthew’s father-in-law came forward as a witness in my case.

Matthew was convicted of conspiracy to commit murder and was sentenced a month ago to twenty years, a reduced sentence because he pleaded guilty.

I was just glad it was finally all over.

And as promised, Grandpa had taken me out of his will.

As for my father and me, just as I suspected, we’d lost touch since the trial ended. I intended to send a birthday and Christmas card each year so he knew that he was in my thoughts … but I couldn’t forge a relationship with him. As sad as it was, sometimes there really was too much damage between people. Sometimes we were better apart than we were together.

My father seemed to be a better man on his own.

That wasn’t the fairy tale, but it was real.

And it was okay.

I gave my husband a coaxing smile. “Do this tonight and I promise tomorrow I’m yours.”

“All day?” He raised an eyebrow.

I raised my eyebrow right back at him. “You’re free all day tomorrow?”

“I’ll make myself free.” He caressed my knee and I shivered at the heat in his eyes. “I’m sick of quickies. I want to take my time.”

“Well, you better switch off your phone. Otherwise Rick will pester us all day.” Rick was the young business graduate Caine had hired to be his PA. Yes, he was better than some attractive young female working closely with my husband, but only marginally. He had a giant stick up his ass, and sniffed haughtily at me any time I surprised Caine with an impromptu lunch. Apparently I was, and I quote, distracting him. “I dislike your PA.”

Caine grinned. “He’s good at his job.”

“He’s a pain in the neck.”

“That is good at his job.”

“He doesn’t like me very much.”

“Good,” he said, his voice husky as he slipped his hand under my skirt. “If he liked you I’d have to fire him.”

I stopped his hand before it could reach his destination. “If you start that we won’t stop,” I whispered, already hot and bothered.

He removed his hand only to cup my face so he could press a tender kiss to my lips. His countenance was suddenly serious as he gazed into my eyes. “For the longest time my company is what got me up in the morning. It was what motivated me every second of every day. Since the moment you started working for me, you are what has gotten me up in the morning. You are what motivates me every second of every day. And still I want more from you. Tomorrow the day is all ours, because I want to talk to you about something.”

My pulse fluttered. “About what?”

He kissed me and then released me. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“No, mister.” I grabbed his arm and hauled him back down onto his stool. “You can’t just say something like that and then think I’ll be able to get through an entire day without knowing what the hell you’re talking about.”

He sighed. “I’d prefer us to have time to talk. We both have to be at work”—he glanced at his watch and frowned—“five minutes ago.”

“Caine,” I warned, “you tell me now or I will think the worst.”

“It’s not bad.” He rested a reassuring hand on my knee. “Baby, it’s not bad at all. I just … I’ve put off discussing it because you’ve been so busy, but I’m beginning to realize that you’re going to be busy right up until the wedding and that’s still four months away.”

I smiled curiously at the consternation on his face. “What is this about?”

“I want a kid.”

I froze at his abrupt announcement.

“I want our kid.” He grabbed my hands, searching my face as he attempted to read my reaction. “I want to try to have a baby with you.”

The sudden rush of emotion at his declaration overwhelmed me. Any response was strangled in my throat as I fought to fight tears.

“Lexie?”

For the past year I’d pondered the idea of having a baby with Caine, until the pondering became more insistent, until it became a longing. With our schedules I hadn’t known how to bring it up. Back in the beginning of our relationship, Caine had mentioned kids in an offhand manner, but we’d never really discussed it, so I didn’t know when it would become an option. We’d gone through so much in the last few months with the trial that it just didn’t ever seem like the right time.

So his words that morning meant everything to me.

It meant that Caine and I, God willing, would finally have a family.

“Is this real?” I grinned, causing tears to spill down my cheeks.

Caine hauled me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed the tears away and held me tight. “Baby, it’s real.”

It was so real.

Finally.

I had what I’d always wanted.

And Caine … he had what he’d always needed.