Page 138 of Dust Storm

The party was still in full swing. My folks were cutting it up on the dance floor. Ray had not one, but two women on his arms. He was wearing a button-up emblazoned with his team and sponsor logos, but sleeves were cuffed, showing off the tattoos on his arms that the girls had colored in earlier today.

CJ was posted up on the edge of the tent, having no fun at all as he watched the guests with an eagle eye, making sure no one wandered off.

Becks was seated, chatting up a journalist who was looking at her like she was a fictional hero. Nate stood close by with their baby wrapped up in a swaddle, tucked safely against his chest.

Bree and Gracie were dancing with each other, taking turns leading.

Cassandra lifted her chin, surveying the chaos. All around, chatter about the restaurant, lodge, and community programs floated to the heavens.

I rested my hands on her shoulders. “You did it.”

I felt her ease back into me, resting against my chest. Her fingers brushed mine, and she squeezed. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not sending me packing the first day.”

“It was mostly pity.” I laughed when she swatted my leg. “Fine. That, and your ass.”

Cassandra huffed. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Go on.”

She turned her back to the party. “Thank you.”

Instead of responding, I kissed her, letting the party spin around us in a blur.

Somewhere in the mirage, I heard my girls squealing and guests clapping.

Cassandra’s mouth was soft and pliant, deferring to my lead as I fused my lips to hers. Gone was whiskey and mint. She tasted like champagne.

Like happiness.

“Tell me you decided to stay,” I said softly against her mouth. She had already given a tentative yes on the job offer, but hadn’t quit her job with the Carrington Group. But more than that, I wanted her to stay. With me.

Her eyes were misty. “We can talk tonight.”

I bumped my nose against hers. “Do I need to get the girls involved?”

“Absolutely not,” she clipped. “If Gracie does those damn puppy eyes and makes herself cry?—”

Like she knew people were talking about her, Gracie bolted over and rammed into my leg. “Did you ask her?” she whispered in the loudest whisper known to man.

Cassandra pursed her lips to tuck away her amusement.

“She said we’d talk later,” I shout-whispered back.

“Did you tell her she can still have the guest room if she doesn’t wanna share your room?”

Cassandra clapped her hand over her mouth and walked away, laughing.

I pulled Gracie into a hug, wrapping her up in my arms. “She knows, baby.”

“Good, ’cause I want her to stay.”

“Hi, Daddy,” Bree said as she wrapped her arms around my waist and tucked her head under my arm.

“Having fun?”

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