Page 93 of His Pretty Little Duet

I keep restarting... I snort-laugh. "It's silly, I know."

"Try this—" His grin widens, a flash of those perfect teeth dazzling me. "Good things come in threes. I guarantee it, Fawn." He hails two fingers, saying, "Scout's honour."

I feel his comment warm my heart, the awakening of that organ wanting one person and one person only. I nod towards the sliding door. "Where is he?"

A sigh leaves him. "Where do you think? His office."

I stand up and walk to the sliding door, opening it and holding it like that as I peer back over my shoulder at Xander. Sitting alone on the bench, he watches his brothers with a soft smile on his face.

For the past eighteen years, I have scratched at the surface of what a family looks like. I've ripped my nails from their beds trying to get to the core of it. Feel it. It's more than dinners and movies and conversations. More than sharing a space. It's effortless togetherness. Laughter on a hammock. Cradling your wife. Dancing. It's in the resting smile on Xander's face as he sees their happiness.

"Hey, Xander?" I call to him, and he slowly turns to look at me, not caring that I'm still hovering near, watching him. "Thanks."

"Anytime, girlie."

It isn't hard to find Clay. I'm used to the never-ending corridors and hallways of his mansion in Connolly which makes this large five-bedroom dwelling a piece of cake to navigate.

I push the office door open. It slowly swings to reveal him sitting at the desk, watching someone on the screen talk. The burly Italian man addresses him as boss. Clay nods. He must be in an online meeting of sorts. Dressed in jeans and a shirt, he looks casual, but that does nothing to gentrify him. The power he wields is unmasked—obvious. Effortless. It is in his mannerisms. In the easy way he sits. In the graceful beauty hedisplays. In the unaffected twinkle within his eyes that warns and swoons in equal measure.

I shuffle my feet, contemplating what to do, hesitant to interrupt him, but the music riding the air at my back makes me desperate for his attention. His reassurances that we havesomething,not the same thing, but something that if you squint resembles what his brothers and their partners have together.

"Come in here, little deer," he says without moving; I should really be used to his X-Men abilities by now. "No, Vinny. When have I ever called you little deer? ... Yes. Keep looking into it. Keep the warehouse surrounded. I'll check in soon." He shuts his laptop and turns in his chair to face me.

I look down at my feet and then back up. "Will you dance with me?" I ask, still glued to the doorframe. "Canyou dance?"

He grins, his piercing blue eyes rolling up and down my body in easy slow laps. "Dancing when you're six foot five is problematic." He looks at his desk and then back at me. "You're too far away."

I take a step towards him, disliking the space between us, too. "Have you seen Konnor and Cassidy dance? They'reincredible. Like something offBallroom DancingorDirty DancingorFootloose." He nods to his desk, and I take that to mean'slide up here and sit in front of me'."Do I accept nods as a response?" I tease, using his words, and the corner of his lips twitch to curve further. I continue, "You know I'm not your employee. I'd like your voice not your nods." I contradict that entire sentence by doing as he silently commanded. Sliding along the wooden desk, I position myself in front of him, and plant my bare feet on his thighs.

He leans back, eyeing me. "Cassidy is a professional ballerina. That's why she can dance."

"Woah." A nasty twinge moves inside me—envy.What have you tried, Fawn? Well, sweet fuck all.I just survived. "Thatexplains it then," I say sadly, feeling the sting associated with my lack of talent or skills. "And Shoshanna is a doctor?"

His eyes soften on me. "Yes."

"Wow. Quite a family," I point out stupidly, an unwelcome sour taste pursing my lips. I hate it. "And you, you're—" I open my arms, wishing I would just shut up and not draw attention to the way this is making me feel shadowed. A little grass flower amidst delicately cultivated roses. "The most powerful man in the city. The man who nods and things happen. And I'm... justFawn.Is it okay to be unspectacular? Ordinary?"

"You couldn't be ordinary if you tried."

My eyes want to bounce anywhere but to his face, want to hide my average existence as though he doesn't already see it. I'm impressed byhim. That turned into a crush and that turned into love. I want to impresshimso the same chain reaction can occur. "Is it okay to simply find my accomplishments in being a good mother one day?"

He grips my ankles. "It is."

"And that would be enough for... for someone spectacular tolove...one day?"

He pauses for a moment, and the silence stretches an arm to me, an invisible hand turning my chin until I hesitantly glance back to his knowing smile. God, why am I so needy? Why am I so transparent? He finally says, "I imagine that kind of person would need someone to be ordinary with, sweet girl. I imagine a man who is always striving might only survive by having thecomfortablepresence of someone who grounds him."

"You hate being comfortable, Sir."

His hands slide up my legs, resting on the outer swell of my bare thighs. "I'm beginning toloveit, little deer."

My heart balloons again, and I try not to laugh as I say, "You know something that's real and ordinary and beautiful and unspectacular?"

"What?"

"Dancing...badly."

His assessing eyes switch. He leans forward, sliding his hands around my waist and down to my arse. Gripping my backside, he lifts me to straddle him. "I'll dance with you."

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