Page 24 of Captivating

“Already worried about where I’m going to be sleeping, huh? Should I be worried about my virtue?” I tease her. This is where we find common ground. Always did.

“Your virtue was shredded years ago, Killian. Try not to take mine with it, okay? I’ve got a brand to live up to.” She wiggles her fingers and pulls the door closed behind her.

Her virtue is still . . . intact?

What the hell does that mean, and why am I ravenous to find out for myself?

LILAH

I saw somewhere that butterflies rest when it rains because it damages their wings. It was supposed to remind you it’s okay to rest during the storms in life because you’ll fly again when it’s over. Here’s the thing... I think there’s something wrong with me because I don’t want to be the butterfly. I want to be the storm. I’ll rest when I’m dead.

—Lilah’s Secret Thoughts

“Mom?” I stare, my mouth agape when I open my door to Mom and Dillan, both standing on my front steps, grocery bags in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “What are you doing here?”

“Lilah Belle Ryan...” Mom leans in and kisses my cheek, then hip-checks me. “Step aside.”

Shit. It’s never good when you get full-named in my family.

“Whatever you say.” I push open the door and wait for her to walk by before I hold Dillan back. “Why does she look like she’s up to something?”

“Because she is,” Dillan squeaks and ducks past, then spins around to face me as she walks backward through my foyer. “But she brought strawberries, vanilla bean ice cream, and chocolate fudge with her. So maybe don’t piss her off until after I’ve had some, okay?”

I can feel the headache coming on already.

Like this day hasn’t been long enough.

Dillan spins back around again and follows Mom down the hall, with me trailing behind her.In my own house. Ugh.

Guess we’re going to the kitchen.

“Honey...” Mom looks up when Dillan and I walk in. “Where is your bottle opener?”

“Umm...” I move over to the drawer I think I saw it in the other day and rummage around until I find it. “What are you doing here, Mom?”

She takes the fancy-shmancey opener out of my hand and points at me with it. “I’m soaking up quality time with my girls. Is that a crime?”

Deep breath in . . . slow breath out.

Do not lose your shit on your mother.

“No, Mom. It’s just been a long day, and I didn’t know you were coming.” I pull out a chair at the island and plant my ass, preparing myself for whatever is about to come. Because something is certainly coming. My mother is nothing if not crazy. Amazing. Loving. Possibly the best mother in the world. But she’s as crazy as anyone I’ve ever met.

She collects three stemless wine glasses from the glass-front cabinet and cracks open a bottle of rosé. “Oh, Lilah... We never got any time during the holidays for just the three of us. I felt like we were overdue for a girls’ night.”

I look over at the clock and that quick movement doesn’t escape her. “Are we keeping you from something?”

Dillan pushes a glass my way, then takes one for herself. “Oh, this ought to be good,” she giggles, and I glare.

“What the fuck?” I murmur.

“Language,” Mom chides.

Dillan chokes on her wine. “Oh please, Mom. We learned to curse from you.”

I nod. “True. Daddy used to watch what he was saying in front of us.”

“Whatever. Your father curses worse than I do. What were youwhat the fucking? Or should I ask who?” Now, this is probably what she’s really here for. Damn this town. Gossip travels faster than the speed of light around here.

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