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Yep, same old Danny. Backhanded compliments for days. She got that Carson was grateful Danny hadn’t sued him, but come on . He’d lose clients daily if this was how he interacted with people.

“Clearly my game’s off, but I’m stunned that goody-two-shoes—” he leaned in “—stick-up-her-ass Julia Stone became a total smoke show.”

“Could you not,” she said.

Family or not, she’d kick him in the balls if he crossed the line.

“Carson called it back in high school. Said you were cute. Was a little obsessed. Now that you’ve filled out, though? I get it.” He raked his gaze over her. “It’s like those movies where the nerd was secretly a supermodel, but she’s all insecure and shit. It’s a hot combination.”

Okay, enough.

Before she could push back from the table, he said, “We even had a bet about it.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“A bet about what?” she asked.

“That he could get you to bang on the first date. General consensus was you were frigid, but look at my boy. He can always get it.”

Across the room, Carson animatedly chatted with Holly.

“But then he bailed on the bet. Said you looked at him with sad puppy eyes and it’d be too easy, so there was no point.”

She snapped her butter knife through the cold butter ball on the table. “Say sad puppy again and I’ll stab your thigh.”

The woman on the other side of Danny glanced her way. Good, let her see what a prick he was. Not like it was her job to help him hide it.

“Whoa, spicy.” Danny held up his hands. “I couldn’t fucking believe it when he said Uncle Jim was dating Sad, uh, Julia Stone’s mom.”

The word dating snagged her attention like a fish hook.

“Don’t you mean marrying my mom?”

“That, too.” Danny nodded. “But this was right around Labor Day, I think? It was kind of a getting-to-know you ’cause Michelle had just moved in. Carson snapped a pic of a family portrait and was like, Is this Julia Stone? ”

Julia went cold.

She could give a fuck about Bronson Alcott. She hadn’t peaked at sixteen and didn’t plan to for at least another forty years. She rubbed her index finger along the top of the knife.

No, this was about Carson’s dishonesty.

She’d explicitly asked him if he’d known Michelle was her mother, and he’d lied. She refused to cause a scene at this perfectly planned rehearsal dinner. No, she’d find him later tonight, as planned, and demand an explanation.

An explanations that might ruin this thing between them before it had a chance to fly.

“Oh, good,” Aunt Mary said. “I haven’t missed the salad course.”

Julia pinned on a smile, inched away from Danny, and opened up her task list to distract herself. A new task that Carson added popped up on her project.

Final run of show meeting, room 228 @ 10 p.m.

She glanced at her watch. Two hours until their reckoning.

Please let him have a good explanation. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt, but not at the cost of her dignity. She’d never compromised that and never would.

* * *

A knock sounded at Carson’s door. “Just a second.”

Please don’t let that be Julia. Not yet. She was an hour early, an hour he desperately needed her to be somewhere else. When dinner ended, she’d gone to the suite with her mom, sister, and aunt, and he was supposed to hang out with his dad and the boys in the bar.

He glanced through the peephole. Julia was in the hall with her enormous suitcase.

Dammit.

He opened the door. “Uh, hi. You’re early.”

Her smile faltered at the lack of warmth in his voice. Double dammit. He couldn’t let her into his room right now, and he couldn’t tell her why.

“Expecting someone else?” she asked.

“Room service.” He slipped into the hallway, then closed the door. “Sorry—I’m in the middle of something. Can I text you later?”

She scrunched her nose. “But I need to talk to you.”

“About what?” His guts knotted. He couldn’t tell her the truth without causing problems and couldn’t conjure a plausible lie that’d send her away happy.

The scrunch turned into a furrow. “Why can’t I come inside?”

A terrible, awful solution popped into his brain. But honesty would take too long, and he had faith in his ability to grovel and explain it later.

“Because… Paramore.”

Her face crumpled. No, no, no. In his desperation, he’d gone nuclear. He couldn’t do this to her. Before he could take it back, she backed away.

“Good for you, stud.” She circled her hand between them. “Smart. This was fun, but it’s too serious, too fast. Which is what I was coming here to say, but you beat me to the punch.”

She jabbed the elevator button, which was right there waiting for her.

“Jules, wait,” he called.

“No.” As the elevator swallowed her, she said, “Don’t stay up too late. We have an early day.”

He scrubbed his hands through his hair. Shit, shit, shit. But he only had bandwidth for one crisis at a time. Carson entered his room, closed the door, and briefly considered banging his head against it.

“Who was that?” Dad asked.

“Julia, but she’s gone.” He parked himself on the bed. “Talk to me.”

Lying was terrible, but Julia would understand. She had to. If he’d said Dad was calling things off, Julia would’ve looped in Michelle, who dialed emotions up to a million. His father was a great guy, but he ran for the hills in the face of intense relationship drama.

No, this—talking him down, man-to-man, was the best choice from a bad menu.

In the guest chair, Dad sat with his hands folded between his knees. “I don’t know what else there is to say. I love her, but I’ve been ignoring the four failed marriages between us.”

“That means you know a lot about what not to do,” Carson offered. “What I said yesterday is true—you’re great together.”

Dad palmed his neck. “She’d be great with anyone. I don’t know what she sees in me.”

“Are you kidding? Dad, you’re the best.”

The people he loved sure had trouble understanding how incredible they were. Dad, Julia… He widened his eyes. Hold the fucking door . People he loved ? Julia came back into his life seven days ago. A week was way too soon for words like love to enter the equation.

Then again, he’d actually known her for ten years.

Stop. Dad needs you right now. This isn’t about you.

“Not kidding, son.” He jiggled his knees. “I have a mirror. I’m four inches shorter than her, pudgy, and bald. She looks like Elisabeth Shue.”

Carson had no idea who that was.

“That was true when you met. Michelle doesn’t seem to get hung up on appearance.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t seen her morning routine.”

“No, I mean she doesn’t judge a book by its cover. Where’s this coming from?”

“It started at the engagement party. All those people, cheering us on, and a voice in my head told me it would be a disaster. I thought it’d pass, but as we get closer to the day, there’s this ball of worry.” He tapped his sternum. “I’m not sure I can bounce back from heartbreak again.”

As Dad paced, understanding clicked into place for Carson.

Unflappable Jim Miller, who offered a wise word about every facet of life—business, houses, taxes, politics, parking tickets—didn’t know shit about how to handle a different future sneaking up on him.

The good news was he could help.

Carson had way more experience with literal and figurative curveballs.

His planning the wedding was to pay Dad back for everything he’d done in the wake of his baseball-ending accident.

Maybe talking Dad through his own rough patch was the real payback.

And if he couldn’t do it, based on what his dad just said, he knew who could.

Carson sent an SOS text, then tossed his phone onto the bed.

“You’ve seen the men your mom’s dated since we divorced.”

They were ex–Major Leaguers with endorsement deals for car-rental companies, shoes, and underwear. Man candy, because Mom preferred handsome guys who thought little, which meant she could direct them more easily.

“None of her relationships last more than a year, Dad. And Michelle isn’t Mom.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve met her daughters.” He crossed his arms. “You can’t raise grounded, kind, smart people without possessing those qualities yourself. Especially Julia. She’s amazing.”

Dad paused and gave him a look he couldn’t decipher. After a beat, he scratched his jawline. “You’re all those things, and your mother raised you.”

There went his hero, once again not taking enough credit.

“ You raised me, Dad. Mom managed me. Until the accident, and then she stopped doing that. You and Michelle are the real deal. Nobody can guarantee what happens next, but you love each other now. You’d rather be with her than without her, right?”

Dad hiked up his lips in a half smile. “That’s right.”

“Then don’t hold Michelle to account for Mom’s jackassery. That’s not fair.”

The knock on the door startled him. She’d gotten here fast.

Please let this have been the right person to text.

Carson opened up. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Michelle eased around him. “And hello to you, too, honeybun.”

Dad was on his feet. “How’d you find me?”

“A little bird told me.” Michelle glanced at him. “Well, more like a six-foot bird.”

Better make a break for it. “I’ll give you two privacy.”

“Stop. I want you to hear this, too.” She clasped Dad’s hand. “You’re nervous. Me, too, and that’s good because it means we’re risking our hearts. If you don’t want to get married, we won’t. We’ll have a nice party, and I’ll be happy. I love our life, with or without the paperwork.”

Tension evaporated from Dad’s shoulders. “Do you mean that?”

“With my whole heart. You must have been so stressed, trying to hide your feelings.”

Dad reached for her hand. “I got in my own head. You’re right.”

“I usually am. On this occasion, though, credit goes to my daughters.” She winked at Carson. “They prize honesty. Even hyperbole falls into the arena of ‘lying’ to them. Every time I embellish the truth, they hold it against me. They rarely forgive bald-faced lies.”

Carson narrowed his gaze. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Me?” Michelle pressed her fingers to her chest. “Not a thing. I’m dispensing advice since we’ll be in each other’s lives for a long time if things go according to my plans.”

He had to call Julia, run to her, tell her everything right the fuck now.

“Thanks for the advice.”

“You’re welcome.” She tugged Dad’s hand. “Let’s get out of Carson’s hair, honeybun.”