It happened to be Tate, who approached him with a smile. “Glad you could make it on such short notice.” He clapped Vadim on the back. “Did Quinn tell you about Representation in Aerospace?”

Vadim shook his head.

“It’s an organization that provides scholarships for women and people of color who want to get into aerospace programs. You know as well as I do that aerospace is lacking diversity. We want to change that.”

“A worthy cause,” he agreed.

“Check out the silent auction items if you want, but no pressure to bid. Just have a good time, okay?”

He nodded. Tate smiled, clapped his back one more time, and sauntered off. Vadim had just joined the bar line when he spotted Quinn. His eyes traveled up floor-length emerald velvet, skimming across curves he knew by heart. His own thundered in his chest when her smoky hazel eyes met his. Her gaze flicked him up and down as she headed his way. Her dress hugged her flaring hips and split up one calf just enough to reveal a sexy silver stiletto. The snug velvet could not contain her breasts, which spilled over the top of the straight neckline. A single strap wrapped behind her neck. Her shiny blonde hair was swept up, revealing her neck. He fisted his hand to keep from touching her.

“At least it fits.”

She meant his tux. Vadim didn’t reply. He didn’t trust his mouth. The doors he’d closed on her weeks ago had burst open at the sight of her elegant form. He needed Quinn to leave his side before he did or said something that brought her closer. He was no good for her. He didn’t know how to love—feel it, show it, keep it burning. She deserved someone who could give what she gave.

He turned away, shoving his hands in his pockets. When he glanced back, she still stood there, pain evident in her pinched brows and pressed lips. Every part of him ached. His jaw hurt from keeping his words inside. The next time he looked, Quinn was gone.

He didn’t see her again until they were seated for dinner. Tate sat between them, leaving them little chance to interact. He heard people complimenting her on the Caribbean-themed menu, heard her musical laugh, watched her take delicate bites of jerk chicken. He chatted with Gloria, a former fighter pilot who taught at a flight school nearby, and her protégé, a young black woman named Janai, who had her whole life mapped out. Besides himself at that age, he’d never met a more dedicated eighteen-year-old.

His phone buzzed as a dessert plate containing a silver cup of nutmeg ice cream was placed in front of him.

That girl of yours is as sneaky as she is wonderful. Please thank Quinn for us. Mila wanted you both to have this.A photo of a drawing was attached. Vadim’s heart burst into three pieces when he zoomed in on the crayon sketch. A looming figure, all legs and a giant head, next to another large head with shorter legs. The smaller head was covered in orange dots, unmistakably Quinn and her freckles. A tiny figure sporting curly hair and purple shoes was wedged between the two of them.

His gaze sought the woman who had acted as a guardian angel since he’d dropped into her life. She was too interested in her ice cream to notice him wishing he’d kept his damn mouth shut weeks ago.

His knees bounced as he made small talk with those around him while dessert wrapped up and the band started to play. Gloria and her husk of a husband drifted away first. Then Pia cornered Tate for a conversation not meant for his ears. When Tate left to dance with Janai, the seat between he and Quinn became unoccupied. He scooted over.

Quinn looked startled. “What?” Red crept up her chest.

“Dance with me.”

The frown on her face killed him. She toyed with a snag in the tablecloth. She’d painted her nails silver to match her shoes. “I don’t think so.”

He raised an eyebrow. Now was not the time for her to start refusing him. He had things he needed to say. Vadim stood, buttoned his jacket, and held his hand out to her. “Please.”

Her glare and her sigh matched. “Fine.”

His heart gave a happy thump when her fingers touched his.

“But we’re going to look ridiculous together, even with these shoes.”

“We’re the best-looking couple here, even with the height difference.”

“We’re not a couple. We’re not anything.Wearen’t even civil.”

Vadim pretended her words didn’t eviscerate him with sharp truth. He swept her against him, her body as soft as the velvet. He couldn’t stop his palm from flattening out against the fabric of her dress as they began to dance. When his fingertips brushed the warm skin of her back, he was not sorry. Touching her again may have been the only thing he wasn’t sorry for.

“What did you do for Mila?”

She averted her gaze. “I promise this is the last time I’ll help.”

He squeezed her hip. “Don’t stop helping people. That’s who you are. It’s the most beautiful thing about you. Thank you for helping my daughter despite what I said.”

She wouldn’t look at him. Her lips wouldn’t stop pressing in and out. His heart stuttered in his chest. He didn’t care anymore about the all-in plan for work or the fear that came from feeling for Quinn. He loved this woman. Fucking loved her to the darkest depth of his soul. She hadn’t told him to fuck off and she hadn’t let go, so Vadim pushed on.

“I’ve done nothing but fail my whole life. I’ve done nothing but fail since I met you. You are perfect. You are what goodness looks like. No one deserves you, me especially.”

She gasped and dug her nails into his triceps. “Rosie’s here!”