Page 31 of Ireland

“Great.” She took another sip and shook her head, remembering how her husband had come up behind her while she was slathering serum over her face and said in all seriousness,How you become more gorgeous by the day never ceases to amaze me. “You, however, look drop-dead gorgeous, as always. I can’t believe you were able to get through all those people outside.”

While most male models never stepped out of obscurity, he’d been thrust into the tabloid spotlight overnight when she pulled him into Gideon Cross’s orbit with her.

“I didn’t.” The sparkling mischief in his emerald eyes was trademark Cary Taylor. “I begged off on your behalf and told them if they came to Trey’s adoption drive this weekend, they could get their photo with me plus swag and maybe a new best friend as awesome as mine—but with a tail!”

A laugh burst out of her, breaking through all the bullshit that had been floating around in her head. “No one can spin a situation around to best advantage better than you.”

“Gotta hustle. You taught me that.” He tipped his wine glass toward her in a silent toast. “And I’ve got a husband who wants to save the world’s animals—or at least the ones in the Greater Five Boroughs. Anything I can do to help him with that keeps him happy, which keeps me happy.”

“That is how marriage works,” she agreed, her smile reflecting her joy at seeing him so happy and healthy.

Cary radiated a vitality that made her memories of the sullen, self-destructive teenager she’d first met seem like a completely different person. Where once, most people would’ve considered them both destined for failure—in work, in love, and in life—they’d managed to hold each other up and drag each other through rough spots that might’ve undone years of intense and painful therapy. Together, they’d found the soulmates who helped heal them, but while they both had spouses now, therewere still things they shared only with each other. That was the nature of best friendship—nothing could replace it.

“You’re both coming to the masquerade on Friday?” she queried, sitting back as the runner set their meals in front of them. She thanked her with a smile.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Cary snapped his napkin open with panache and draped it over his lap. “You know I never skip a chance to see Trey in a tux—or strip him out of one.”

She laughed, her body incrementally relaxing with each passing moment. “We still haven’t found a bachelor who can draw the high bids you did.”

Their annual fall masquerade and bachelor auction was the largest fundraising event of the year for the Crossroads Foundation, which Gideon had established to help other sexual abuse survivors via advocacy, shelters, and legal support. While their personal experiences with childhood trauma were known only to each other, their therapists, and select family members, the foundation’s work was covered extensively by the press, and their events of all sizes and persuasions always sold out.

“I’d say I’m sorry,” Cary replied between bites, “but I’m too damned happy being married to sound genuine about it. You know, you could switch it up to a bachelorette auction and put Ireland up there. She’d bring in Fort Knox level bids and could probably wheedle more out of the winning bidder during their date.”

She snorted, her fork hovering over her baked eggs and sausage. “As if Gideon would ever. In his mind, every man her age is as debauched as you two were. I told him the winning bidder would likely be Richard’s age, considering how high the bidding would go, but he doesn’t like that idea, either. And really, since she’s taken over emceeing the auction, it’s never been more fun, so I’d hate to lose her.”

“Has your man never seen that girl spar on the mat at Parker’s studio?” He shook his head. “I’ve seen her rock the clock in guys twice her size.”

“That’s a good idea, actually.” She made a mental note of it. “I should bring him with me sometime when I know she’ll be there. Still, I think he’s more concerned with her poor choices than he is about her ability to defend herself physically. I worry about the same thing, to be honest.”

And Ireland’s new infatuation, whose phenomenal attractiveness was the kind that screwed with a woman’s common sense, was a threat to take seriously. Eva trusted her instincts. She was seriously debating whether to set Angus on the hunt for information but felt hypocritical after the hard time she’d given Gideon.

Angus had been with her husband since childhood, serving as both chauffeur and security, as her father did presently. The wily Scot had made the transition from day-to-day security to top-level investigations years back. He'd said retirement wasn’t for him, and she and Gideon were both grateful to have him on hand whenever the need arose. She especially appreciated that Angus trusted her when she asked for his discretion, knowing she would only keep something from Gideon for the best of reasons.

“Another thought,” Cary went on, swallowing hurriedly, “would be changing it from a bachelor auction to a ‘Hot Lunch’ and throwing your man into the mix. He’d rake in truckloads of moola. Think of how many would bid for the chance to present their big idea to Gideon Cross while he’s a captive audience. Sure, a hopeful lady might shell out and get her heart broken, but it could just as soon be an entrepreneur with a great idea.”

“Cary!” She stared at him with wide, delighted eyes, her thoughts racing. “That’s genius. We could tease it a bit in conversation during the event and see what the initial reactionis. We really have to think of something new. We had so many hot bachelors to choose from when we started, but most everyone’s off the market now.”

“Time’s a-changin’!” he singsonged while digging into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and began swiping. Then he held it out to her.

She took it and looked at the picture he presented. A strange chill swept through her body, countered by the sudden heat in her face. There was a violent recoiling deep inside her, in a place she avoided looking because it was too dark. Too cruel. Too ugly.

Her voice shook as she asked, “Why are you showing me a pregnancy test?”

His laughter was as bright and happy as the sun. “Trey and I are pregnant!”

Her thoughts scattered into incoherence. “Huh?”

“Our surrogate is having our baby, silly.”

The entire room tilted. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, her emotions rioting. A million thoughts and words spun through her mind and filled her mouth, but she couldn’t give voice to any of them. Tears stung the backs of her eyes.

“Isn’t it the craziest, most wonderful thing?” He sat back, beaming. “I’m so fucking relieved to tell you finally. Trey was all twisted up about letting anyone know that we were evenhoping. He said women keep pregnancy news to themselves for several weeks, so we should do the same.” His laugh was threaded with wondrous delight. “Whatever. Happy hubby, happy chubby.”

Eva’s hand trembled so badly that she dropped the phone as she attempted to set it down. The abrupt thud rattled her already shaken nerves. How she managed to curve her lips into a wide, watery smile was a goddamned miracle. “I’m so thrilled for you, Cary. Thrilled for you both. Congratulations! You have to catch me up on everything.”

Grabbing his phone back, Cary started swiping again. “I’ve actually kept notes, so I don’t leave anything out.” He paused, his happiness dimming along with his smile. “I haven’t told Tatiana yet. I don’t know how to have that conversation.”

“You should call Dr. Travis.” She dug deep for composure. “But I’d say how you handled telling her about your engagement is worth repeating. Just give her a call, tell her you have something serious to discuss—so she’s mentally prepared—and then go to her place and give her the time with you to process it.”

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