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She leans against me. “Never. You’re perfect.”
We’ve never really talked about our almost-fifteen-year age difference. To be honest, once I got to know her—once I stopped fighting the pull between us—it barely registered, except when I worried about how others might see it. But Chloe’s never been defined by her age. Her strength, her maturity, and the way she approaches life make it irrelevant. Now, I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks. We’re perfect for each other, and that’s all that matters.
I kiss her again, lingering over it. I don’t much care if we’re late. My brothers have been late or disappeared in the middle of an event more times than I can count since they met Delilah and Violet, so they can’t exactly complain.
Eventually, though, I force myself to step back and take her hand. “Let’s go. The sooner we get in there, the sooner I can get you home.”
Her laugh is light, the nervousness shrouding her expression dissipating.
The table in the middle of the lawn is full, and as we approach, happy chatter and laughter float through the air.
My ribs draw tight. A few short years ago, I never would have dreamed this kind of scene would be possible. That our painfully cold, dreaded monthly catchups with Mom could become this.
Cole, Delilah, Lottie, Tate, Violet, Mom, and Miles. All of them relaxed and smiling, enjoying the sunshine, the good food and wine, the company.
“Roman! Chloe!” Tate calls.
Every head turns our way.
Nervous once more, Chloe blows out a breath.
I squeeze her hand. “See? They’re happy you’re here.”
By the time we reach the table, Cole has already pulled out a chair for her next to Delilah, who’s holding a sleeping Lottie. She thanks him as she sits, and I take the empty seat next to her.
“I’m so glad you came,” Delilah says. Her smile is so warm and genuine, there’s no doubting her sincerity.
Chloe’s posture relaxes. “I’m very happy to be here.”
She turns her attention to Mom. “Thank you very much for the invitation, Mrs. King.”
Mom nods. “You can call me Beverly, dear. And you’re welcome. I’m glad you could come.”
While her smile is more reserved than Delilah’s, it’s real.
My own muscles loosen. Even with all the changes I’ve witnessed in my family over the last few years, it’s still sometimes hard to believe we’ve come this far. That maybe for all of us, the pretense is over.
Maybe our family didn’t really exist until Dad was removed from it.
As Delilah and Chloe chat, drawing Violet and Mom into their conversation, Tate leans close.
“Wine?” he asks, holding a bottle of white.
“Thanks.” I pick up my glass and hold it out to him.
“You look happy,” he murmurs.
My chest is light as I shoot him a grin. “I am. I guess it was time I found out what that felt like.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “So tell me, is it true that the last domino falls the hardest?”
He’s referencing a conversation we had at Cole and Delilah’s wedding. One where I told him I had no desire to fall for anyone.
I watch Chloe laugh, her head tipped back, exposing the slender column of her neck. “Not sure it would be possible to fall harder.”
He nods but thankfully doesn’t dwell on the subject. I’m not sure if I have the words to describe what I feel for her. He knows anyway. Both of my brothers do. They experienced it first.
“Are you looking forward to the Genesis-1 opening next week?” Miles ask from his seat next to Mom. Over the past few months, we’ve seen more and more of him. And I’m glad. He’s a genuinely good man. Not the richest, not with Dad’s looks, but he treats mom with the utmost respect and care.