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I need to bone up on my Astrology; I have absolutely no idea if I’m looking at a constellation, and if so, which one; and my real dilemma — which freakin’ one of the dazzling gems above me is the wishing star?

Wait… back up. For fuck’s sake, Presley. Your real dilemma, dilemmas, are far bigger, and piling up quick, girl. Not only are you stargazing, thinking silly ass shit such as “dazzling gems,” seriously?... but you’re doing so with damp panties, warm traces of his come still reminding you of being at Sutton’s total mercy. In your father’s club. Nice.

Also… exactly how long must one wait, must one pee, for that to stop? I need to ask Sky. No, no handing her that info on a platter; I’ll Google it.

“Are you purposely testing me?” I jolt as though electrocuted, almost falling, and shriek too loud for a neighbor not to hear. I’d been so wrapped up in my own crazy talk with myself I hadn’t heard Sutton’s approach, totally unprepared for his scary hiss.

“Are you purposely trying to give me a fucking heart attack?” I whisper-seethe back.

“If that’s what it takes. Jesus, Presley, what the hell are you doing out here? Half-naked. In the middle of the night. Again.” Way past growly, he stalks toward me, shaking his head. “All of a sudden, you’re a fearless, exhibitionist, vampire? Can’t keep your ass covered, or inside, at night? Not likin’ it, babe. At. All.”

“For God’s sake, I was taking the dog out to potty.” I give him the wide-eyed, arched brows, universal look for “duh.”

“Ohhh,” he drawls sarcastically, “that makes sense; my bad. Except…” he jerks his head every which way, then back to eye me, “where’s the damn dog?”

“What?” Shit… I, too, scan the area, coming up empty, calling Castello’s name and moving to go find him.

“Yeah, good job on that, Mistress of the Night,” Sutton grunts, stopping me short of my search with a quick snare around my waist. “He’s done.” He points toward my apartment, where Castello sits right inside the door… waiting on me.

“Rise and shine, Hot Shot; big day ahead of us.” Sutton’s too chipper wake-up pierces my sleepy ears, his hand swatting my just as sleep ass.

“Wrong day,” I groan, yanking the cover back over me as I roll away from the sound of his voice. “I have no big plans.”

“Um, no, it’s the right day, and a surprise,” he laughs.

“Wrong girl, then.”

“Really? That’s the best ya got; wrong girl? Get your ass up, right girl, right day; you’ll get all the sleep you need when you’re dead.”

I groan again, louder this time, completely disappearing under the comforter. “You know I hate mornings, and surprises, so you probably should’ve guessed I’d absolutely loathe surprises in the mornings. Whatever it is, it can wait a few hours. And how are you not tired? You’re the one who worked all night.”

“What was that last part? Didn’t quite catch it,” he asks, chuckling.

Must’ve moaned it out loud — how damn good it smells under here — the sheets, his pillow… a cocoon of Sutton and sex. “I said, you should come back to bed,” I try to persuade him with a purr.

“Very tempting, Sugar, but, no can do. Company’ll be at my place in just a couple of hours, and we got a ton of shit to do before then. So, last time I ask; get your pretty ass up and moving.”

“Company? What company?” I throw the covers back and sit up, pushing bed-head tangles out of my face. “At your place? Sutton,” I groan, dreading the answer, “what the hell did you do?”

“There she is. Good morning, grumpy girl.” He winks, bending to brush his lips across mine, then pulling back… before I can pull him in for more. “We are hosting a pool party at my place today, so jump in the shower, ad make sure to do whatever,” he motions to his crotch, “you gotta do down there to wear a bikini while I run to the store to buy food, then I’ll come back and pick you and Castello up. Sound good?”

I’ve been shaking my head since about word three, answering that very question long before he asked. But, since he apparently missed it, I tell him in no uncertain terms. “No, doesn’t sound good at all. Well, lemme rephrase that; doesn’t sound familiar, not even a little bit. When did we decide to host a pool party? Who did we invite, and why aren’t we just using Aunt Laney and Uncle Dane’s pool for this fiesta?”

“This morning, the Squad and a few guys from work, and because,” he hums the words around his mouth, rubbing at the back of his neck as he chooses which of them, and in what order, to let out.

“I’m slowly breakin’ ya in… to breakin’ ya out, of the mold.”

“And what mold is that?”

“Don’t get mad,” he laughs, rubbing the death-glare wrinkle between my eyes. “Presley, your family is amazing, and I envy you for having that, them, but, I’m not like JT; a man of them, bringing into that mix. I’m my own man, taking one of theirs away, into my mix. Does that make sense?”

“No. Not at all. A man of them? What the hell does that even mean? And all the mixing? Are you suddenly a bunch of bakers? I’m pretty quick on the uptake, Sutton, so you must really be fuckin’ up what you’re trying to say, ‘cause I got nothin’.”

He widens his stance, arms crossed at his barrel chest, and smirks down at me. “There’s a running theme in your family — man finds his woman, gets her the car he thinks is fit, moves her into apartment, house, whatever he sees fit, and soon she’s in the mix — they’re all connected; where they work, live, eat, everything. Know what I’m talking about now?”

“Yes,” I drawl, waiting to see where he’s going with this before pointing out a few key flaws.

“I won’t be doing that. Nothing wrong with your car, or apartment, and if and when there is, we’ll be starting our own thing; you and I will make our own foundation, and ours will branch out from us. Starting today. We throw a pool party, we throw it at our pool, serve our food. Not that I don’t enjoy your whole family, you know I do, but… I’ll be the main man, the Dane if you will, of what we build.”

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