Page 131

“Do you ladies like breakfast sandwiches? I brought egg and back bacon, and an avocado one, just in case. And smoothies.”

“Oh, we like meat,” Mom says suggestively.

I shoot her a look that I hope conveysI will duct tape your mouth.

“That wasn’t necessary,” I tell him.

His gray eyes lock on mine. “You need to eat properly.”

That bossy look on his face says,Because you’re pregnant.

I can feel the pink creeping into my cheeks, and Mom watching us. “Thank you.” I snatch the bag from him, set it on the counter, and say, “This is my mom, Lorraine. Mom, this is my friend Harlan. He’s been letting me bake in his kitchen.”

He raises an eyebrow slightly at the word “friend.” I ignore it, and he crosses the room to shake Mom’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Lorraine.”

Mom looks openly awestruck. “What a work of art. It’s like you’re chiseled out of stone.”

She’s really lost a filter since becoming a cougar.

Harlan cracks a smile, caught off-guard in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen.

“You have your daughter’s charm,” he tells her.

What? I’mcharming?

“I suppose I do,” Mom says. I have never seen Lorraine Monroe look so flattered.

I have no idea what’s going on here, but I’m not sure I like it.

“Let’s eat.” I shove a bunch of junk that’s piled on the kitchen table aside and start unpacking takeout boxes. “I have a shit-ton to do today.”

“Do you tell her she works too hard?” Mom asks him. “Or is it just me?”

“I’ve told her. She doesn’t like to hear it.” He starts taking dishes from my hands as I pull them from the cupboards, and setting the table. “I’ve advised her that if she quit the waitressing job, she could really make a go of the cake business.” I have a hard time even looking at him while he chats with Mom.

I’m hurt. It’s been haunting me, that when I broke down crying, he didn’t touch me. He didn’t pull me into his arms. He just stood there.

And now that he’s right here, I can feel that same ache.

The desire to be closer to him.

“But she doesn’t appreciate unsolicited advice,” he adds, glancing at me.

“Well, who does?” Mom says. “Though knowing what advice to take and what to leave is key.”

“True.”

I don’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed that they seem to be bonding. Over their shared disapproval of my life choices.

Mom moves over to the table, and takes the seat Harlan pulls out for her. “Quinnie,” she says disapprovingly. “You don’t take business advice from someone who’s wildly successful in business?”

“I don’t like you like this, Lorraine,” I grumble, as Harlan sits down with her.

“She doesn’t like to see us getting along,” she tells Harlan, like a traitor.

“Not true,” I say, dumping cutlery in front of them.

“Oh, it’s true. I’ve never liked a man she’s introduced me to before.” She leans in and tells him conspiratorially, “She has this terrible habit of dating down.”