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Off with her head!

But Clara is laughing, so my lady is clearly funny.

Finishing up my dessert, I lick my lips, the intense taste lingering on my tongue, and the check can’t come fast enough. I need to talk to her.

I offer hugs and handshakes, saying goodnight to my family when we all stand, and I head off to the bathroom while they exit. I use the facilities and check my reflection, swiping my palm over my face, my five-o’clock shadow grainy on my jaw, then up to comb my fingers through my hair.Good enough.

Stepping back out onto the floor, I take a breath, slap on my best smile, then amble over to the bar. To get a taste of this bittersweet duchess.

Chapter 2

Taryn

Itake a long sip of my Aperol Spritz, savoring the bubbles and citrus flavor. Marianne wanted to order a whole bottle of Prosecco to celebrate, but more than two drinks in one night sends me right to bed. Not to mention, this once-a-month sip and chat is more than enough for me. I don’t like testing the genes that run in my family.

I trace the condensation on my glass with the tip of my finger as Clara chatters on about some funny interaction she had with a customer at Lux & Lace, the lingerie boutique she and Marianne own. While I love the girl, have known her for a few years now, with her being married to my best friend, I still haven’t gotten used to how she cantalk.

She well and truly could hold an entire conversation with herself. As she goes on about lace getting caught on hair indelicateplaces, my mind drifts back to the renovations starting next week.

The Nest is my baby. I don’t own the bed-and-breakfast, but the place has meant so much to me, I want everything to be perfect. It’s where I took my first steps towardindependence after my divorce, and I want to show it off. Give it the facelift it desperately needs.

“Hey.” Clara elbows my side with a laugh. “You still with us?”

I blink and take another sip. “Sorry, just thinking.”

“The renovations?” Marianne guesses, and I nod.

“It’s so exciting. You should be proud of yourself,” Clara says. “Taking that place from nothing to everything.”

“Not nothing,” I correct, and Marianne raises her brow in disagreement.

“Kinda.”

The Nest was a bit run-down when I took it over. But the former manager hadn’t been able to market it correctly. Didn’t know how to reach a new audience. West Chester is picturesque, Instagrammable, and The Nest merely needed someone to know how to showcase it within the location. In the age of digital media and online influencers, a person had to know how to highlight its uniqueness. How the backdrop would be perfect for pictures. Add in a little folklore about a certain celebrity who was born in the area staying there, and voilà. Back in business.

Clara lifts her drink. “To Taryn, for being forty-two and a boss-ass bitch.”

Marianne raises her glass. “To all of us being boss-ass bitches.”

“Hear! Hear!” I agree and take a long drink.

“Sounds like a party.”

Clara whips her head around to the man suddenly standing behind her. “Oh my god!” She throws herself at him. “Oh my god, Dante! I can’t believe it!”

I scoot my stool back, giving Clara room to jump around, arms flailing as she goes a mile a minute, her hands bouncing from his shoulders to his face back to his shoulders. “I haven’tseen you in a hundred years. How are you? You look exactly the same.”

“I’m good.” He grins. “And you look exactly the same too. I saw you earlier and wanted to say hi, but I was having dinner with my family.”

“Oh, well, come here. Come here. Come sit.” She takes his hand, pulling him in to our group, depositing him on the seat between Marianne and me. “This is my wife, Marianne, and our best friend, Taryn.”

He turns to each of us, nodding his greeting, though his attention stays on me longer than it did on Marianne. As his dark eyes coast over me, his lips twist up in a ridiculous smile—one-part mischief, one-part sex, and a whole lot ofnotworking on me. “Nice to meet you, Taryn.”

“Hi,” I say, ignoring how he brightens when he says my name. How he takes in my body like a dehydrated man getting his first taste of water, his tongue wetting his lips.

I mean…Come on.

It might have been a while since I had sex, but notthatlong.