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  A single tear rolls down her cheek and she brushes it away. "I'm going to go. I've got so much to do at home, and I'm sure the three of you want to spend time together." She kisses my cheek once more before walking out the front door, leaving me to watch her with my mouth gaping open.

  The door shuts and Daniel turns to me with a grin. "Well, that went way better than I was expecting."

  "I was a little worried."

  Daniel snorts, "A little? I was a lot worried. Gen, your mom is scary."

  "You handled her pretty well though." I feel almost giddy at the thought that my mom seems to be on board with our relationship. I don't want to fight with her, but there's no way I'm giving Daniel up, either.

  Pulling me over to the couch, Daniel sits down beside me, tucking me into his side. "Now that I've faced the firing squad and won, can we relax for a few before CJ gets up from his nap? I just want to enjoy the fact that we can be together."

  Giggling at his analogy, I nod. He's absolutely right. Not having to hide the fact that we're in love is freeing. I snuggle closer as he turns on the television, searching for something to watch and enjoying his company.

  Chapter 25

  Daniel and I quickly settle into a routine, one that involves him spending the majority of his time at my house instead of his apartment. That doesn't mean that life after the confrontation with my mom is all sunshine and roses, though. Today is the first time I’ll see Lanie and Maggie with Daniel as my boyfriend instead of just the guy who mows my lawn, and I have a feeling things won’t go very smoothly. It’s confirmed when Lanie starts in on me as soon as she walks in.

  "Are you nuts?" asks Lanie, her voice almost squeaking it goes so high.

  Shaking my head, I give her a dirty look. "No, I'm not nuts, but thanks for that."

  "I'm serious, Genny! It's one thing to have sex with the younger guy, but to publicly date him? What are you thinking?" She's looking at me like she's not sure she ever really knew me, which kinda hurts. I expect this kind of thing from my mom, but not my best friend. "Do you really want everyone to think you're a cougar, or his sugar mama?"

  I open my mouth to let her have it, but Daniel's voice cuts me off as his arm wraps protectively around my waist and I relax into his body. Even with my friend acting like someone I don't know, he makes me feel safe and protected. "You know, I'm getting really tired of people who supposedly want the best for Genevieve, the people who are supposed to know her better than anyone else, thinking that there has to be an ulterior reason I'm with her. Why can't any of you see the woman that I see?"

  He tugs me further into his embrace as he continues to blast my friend. "Gen is an amazing person and any man, young or old would be lucky to have her. I can promise you now that I will never take her for granted and I will always do everything I can to be what she needs." Lanie's eyes widen at his words, and her eyes fill with tears when he tells her, "If you can't respect her or our relationship, please leave."

  I'm speechless. No one has ever seen me the way he does, and it's a heady feeling. My friends are staring at him like he's sprouted an extra head, and they aren't sure how to respond to his words. Neither one of them can really argue with him. I melt at the way he protects me, and so do my friends.

  Then, Lanie's eyes meet mine, and I can see the sadness in them. She rushes over to throw her arms around me, burying her head in my shoulder and whispering, "Oh God, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking! You know I love you more than anything, right?" Daniel doesn't release me at first, and I appreciate that he's trying to protect me, but this is a girl I've been friends with since we were kids.

  "It's okay," I comfort Lanie, hugging her back tightly as Maggie comes over to hug us both. Daniel finally lets me go so that I can hug it out with the two people I'm closest to, after him.

  He leaves the living room, giving us our privacy. Once the three of us have cried, apologized, and reiterated that we love each other dearly, he walks back in holding a bottle of wine and three glasses. He pours us each a glass before kissing me sweetly.

  "I'm going to give you some time with your friends, baby. Call when you're ready for me to come back, okay?"

  God, I love this man! I kiss him, assuring him we’ll be ready soon. After all, I'm not going to spend the whole night with my friends. I want to see him, too. He's been busy with school this week, so we haven't spent as much time together.

  The three of us watch him leave before Lanie turns to me and squeals, "Okay, now that he's gone, I seriously need details!" Grabbing me by the arm, careful not to spill the freshly poured glass of wine she handed me, she drags me over to the couch and pushes me down, sitting beside me. "How long has this been going on, Genny?"

  "About two weeks." I cringe, knowing she's going to shriek any minute. Lanie doesn't disappoint, her squeals are almost deafening in their intensity.

  "What do you mean, two weeks?! Why didn't you say anything?" Maggie sounds hurt.

  When I look over at her, I raise a single eyebrow. A blush blooms across her cheeks. "Oh, yeah, I guess tonight is why."

  "Partly," I nod. "I was afraid you wouldn't understand, but I also wanted to just keep it to myself for a little while." I tell them about my mom’s reaction, and how I was at the bar Daniel had been working at the night my car was almost stolen. I hadn't told them that I'd gone to see him, or that he'd been the one to give me a ride home.

  Lanie snickers, "I guess he really did give you a ride, huh?" My face flames at her words and I swear I can feel the blush all the way down to my toes as I smack her in the arm.

  "Shut up, Lanie! Jeez." I can't stay mad at these girls, it's downright impossible—and has been that way since we were little.

  We spend the rest of the night talking about Daniel, our getting together, and my mother's reaction, which makes Maggie laugh. "I knew she would freak if y'all worked things out! Your mom is so crazy!"

  At one point, Lanie leans forward to ask me, "So, now you have to tell me—did Mr. Handyman teach you how to screw?" Maggie and I both spit out our wine at her ridiculous question. When we both look at her in shock, she shrugs. "Hey, I was there that day when we ogled him putting up the new chandelier. The guy knows how to screw, I just want to know if he taught you anything new!"

  Maggie and I both collapse into the couch, laughing at her serious expression. The girl is absolutely crazy. When I don't answer, she glares at me. "What?" I ask, even though I know exactly what she wants to know.

  "Are you going to answer me or not? Inquiring minds want to know!" She's getting ticked now at my lack of answers, so I decide to take pity on her.

  "He's definitely taught me some things. Did you know that young guys have some serious stamina? It's amazing." Honestly, it's been so long since I had sex that I probably wouldn't know if he did have more stamina than a guy my age. I just want to see her face at the revelation. Lanie does not disappoint.

  Her mouth drops open and her eyes glaze over. "Really? Does Daniel have any friends he can hook me up with?"

  Maggie's husband comes to pick them up around ten, and just as they are getting ready to leave, Daniel gets back. Walking past him, Lanie cups his cheek in her hand, leaning up to say something in his ear. He smiles at her and nods before she kisses his cheek and follows Maggie out the door.

  As soon as the door shuts, he walks over to kiss me. I pull back to study him, and his brows furrow. "What is it?" he asks.

  "What did Lanie just say to you?" It must not have been bad because he just grinned down at her, but I'm so curious, I almost can't stand it.

  He shakes his head, a small smile still present on his lips. "Oh, that?" I narrow my eyes at him and he pulls me into his embrace. "She was just warning me that if I hurt you, I'll have to deal with her. Your friend is very inventive with her revenge techniques." He's laughing now, but refuses to tell me what she said she'd do to him, telling me I'll have to ask her.

  Daniel helps me clean up before taking my hand and leading me up to my room. It's crazy to think
that we are just starting to be open with other people about our relationship, because being with him is as natural as breathing. We both undress, getting ready for bed and slipping underneath the covers.

  I turn to face away from him, and he yanks me over so that I'm cuddled up against him, keeping his arm possessively around my waist. I feel his lips touch the top of my head, in what's quickly become our nightly ritual.

  "Sweet dreams, baby," he says.

  My eyes are heavy, and I'm almost asleep, so I don't even know if he hears my whispered, "Good night, Daniel." I feel safe with him lying here beside me, and I'm comfortable enough to fall asleep quickly, secure in the knowledge that he'll still be here when I wake up tomorrow.

  A few months ago, I never would have thought this could happen. I’m starting a new life with someone. I’m actually moving forward. I will always love Cade, but I love Daniel too. I didn’t think I’d be able to love anyone ever again, but that isn’t true. It’s liberating to be free from my tear-filled nights and thoughts of enduring parenthood. Being a single parent was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but I managed. Now, I’ve been given a second chance at love—and I’m taking it.

  Free Sample:

  The Wedding Contract

  Chapter 1

  I can hear Amy’s voice through the front wall of the little shop, talking to a potential client about photography for their wedding. I’m in the back, putting away props from this morning’s shoot. After stowing the box on a shelf in the back, I walk across the open space, and duck out through the curtain that covers the doorway to the front.

  “Well, congratulations, and thank you for considering Bella Chicks Studio. Best of luck to you both.” Amy smiles as she sets the phone back into the cradle. Her light brown hair is pin straight and tied back into a style that looks perfect on her. When I try it, my curls just look tangled.

  Folding my arms over my chest, I breathe in slowly. It’s stupid to think that this was his doing. Amy hasn’t even told me yet, but the skin on my arms prickles like a big fat omen. I know it was him. It’s always him. “So, I take it the Gettys hired someone else?”

  Amy smiles at me. It’s the facial expression that begs, ‘Don’t kill the messenger!’ I’m not mad at Amy; I’m upset about the situation. We can’t keep losing clients like this. She nods slowly. “Yeah, they went with Bella Clicks.”

  My lips smash together and I try not to yell. I try so hard not to overreact, but this is the third client that Nick Ferro has stolen from me this month. The bastard has been making my eye twitch for weeks. It seems like every time I figure out how to get a step ahead of him, he one-ups me, and then does it better and cheaper. God, I hate him.

  The worst part is, if things continue like this, I can’t afford to stay in my little shop. Babylon Village is cute, but the rent is a bitch. And I know Mr. Copycat doesn’t have that issue because his daddy owns the damn shopping center. Why didn’t I get a non-compete clause in my lease contract?

  Amy can tell that my blood is boiling. “Uh, Sky. You haven’t blinked in like, five minutes. Don’t go all Medusa on me.” Amy is a mythology buff and works Greek gods into anything and everything. Half the time I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

  The ringing in my ears should be my cue to go scream in the back room like a normal small business owner. Instead, I knot my tightly folded arms and shove through the glass front door. My feet pound the parking lot, hard and fast, leaving Amy and her don’t-do-its behind.

  This has to stop. I was doing fine until Nick showed up. God knows there are enough people trying to make a living in New York, but none of them, aside from this ass-hat, camped out on my doorstep stealing my clients.

  I never do stuff like this. I never chew anyone out. I always smile and look for the bright side of things. Screw that. I’ll be out of business if I don’t fight back, so I shove into his store, my fists up and fangs bared.

  “Get out of here, you sorry excuse for a man!” I’m standing in his perfect lobby, which is just as posh as mine, but instead of rich red accents, his are blue. He has his consultation table in the same spot as mine, with huge pictures of brides in Time Square and by Saint Pat’s Cathedral, just like I do. I notice the new floral arrangements with peacock feathers, and I’m ready to explode. When did he copy those?

  My eyes drift over to the little table he has set up with albums on it. Last month, I met a new vendor that provides these beautiful albums for my boudoir clients. The albums have sequins, supple leather, and feel perfect under your fingertips. I see one glinting from behind a wedding album on his table. Wide-eyed, I step toward it and lift the little book with shaking hands.

  Nick appears from the back and shakes his head slowly. “Sky Thompson, what can I do for you?” Nick has dark, perfectly tousled hair that falls over his forehead, right above gem-colored blue eyes. Today, he’s wearing a designer white button-down shirt with jeans. There’s a chunky watch on his wrist that cost more than my net worth. He’s beautiful, cocky, and rich. His voice is like a siren’s song, and he completely and totally sucks rabid monkeys—a spoiled brat to the core.

  Anger surges through me, as I look up at him. “What’d you do to land the Getty wedding? Offer to pose with her in the boudoir pictures?” Oh my god. Nick has the audacity to smile while I’m ranting. He tries to hide it, but I can see the amusement in his eyes. I shove a finger into his chest and continue raving. “Because there’s no way you could get that client on your own, you pampered ass!”

  Nick looks like he’s biting the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing. I’m right in front of him and seriously consider kicking his shins. Every muscle in my body is strung so tight that I’m ready to explode. I’m practically vibrating—until I see Beverly Getty emerge from the back room, followed by her daughter and husband. Awh, suck.

  I deflate as I see the livid look on Beverly’s face. She told me that she’d be sending a check today, but she’s in Nick’s studio instead. I don’t get it, and from the look on her face, she doesn’t plan to elaborate. “What did you say about my daughter? Or was your crass comment directed at me, Miss Thompson?”

  What the fuckery? Seriously, I never blow off steam! I never tell anyone that they suck and the one time I do, it bites me on the ass. My lips tug into a nervous smile and I have that weird feeling where I don’t know what to do with my hands. I grab my pointer finger and try to patch things up, like I didn’t just eat my foot. No, I swallowed my whole damn leg and half my ass. There’s no way to make this right. “Mrs. Getty, I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “You didn’t imply anything, dear. And if you must know, we found Nick to be much more easygoing. A wedding is stressful enough and I didn’t want anything else to make my Tiffany anxious. I see I chose well and I’ll make sure that everyone knows how you really behave.”

  Nick glances between us before putting a hand on Beverly’s shoulder. “Sky wouldn’t have ruined your daughter’s wedding. She’s a very capable photographer. The truth is, she only gets twitchy like this when she forgets her meds. It could happen to anyone.” Beverly Getty gives me a second look, like she can now see my obvious mental defect.

  “Go back and grab a chai tea from the Keurig. I’ll get those new albums I mentioned.” He looks up at me and grins. “On your way, Sky. Or would you prefer I call Amy to fetch you?” He says it so sweetly, as if he’s helping me.

  Not meaning to, I clutch my hands tightly and growl before I turn on my heel and storm out. As the door closes behind me, I hear Nick saying to the Gettys, “Don’t worry, she’s not dangerous.”

  Chapter 2

  Amy is standing in the doorway when I get back. My eyes are stinging and I want to cry. I go straight into the back and she trails behind me like a faithful puppy. “Sky, what happened? It can’t be that bad!”

  “I called Tiffany Getty a slut and suggested that the only reason they signed with Nick was to touch his naked chest!” I’m sniffling hard, trying not to cry—not before I
find the tissue box. I head over to the prop shelves and start digging around. A crate of plastic apples topples off the shelf, onto the floor, spilling apples in every direction.

  “Well, that’s not that bad.” She has a quizzical tone to her voice that tells me she doesn’t understand.

  “The Gettys were there! All three of them walked out from the back of his shop. Her dad looked like he wanted to slit my throat and toss me into the canal.”

  Amy averts her eyes. “Oh, well, yeah. That’s kinda bad.”

  I find the little tissue box and sink to the floor. “That’s not the worst part. Nick told them that I’m usually fine—that I only get like this when I forget my meds. So I went from being a bitch to being crazy!” Holding the tissue over my face, I take a deep breath. I need to calm down, but I can’t.

  “Oh, honey. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.” She kneels next to me and rubs my shoulder.

  “How can you say that? He’s ruined me. My business is falling apart because of him. The guy is a parasite and you’re telling me that it’s all okay?” I’m not usually like this. I don’t fall to pieces over little things, but it’s so far past little that I can’t take it anymore. I went from having a thriving shop to sneak-sleeping in the store. I have no apartment, no money, and thanks to Nick, I lost the Getty wedding.

  “Of course it’s okay. Everyone knew you were crazy already.” She smiles and leans in, giving me a hug.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Seriously, Sky. Cut yourself some slack. You won’t close with every client. Some of them will choose someone else. You can’t beat yourself up when one gets away.” She only says that because she doesn’t know how bad it is. I’ve been hiding it from her. Amy has enough stuff to worry about, I haven’t wanted to add more to her pile.