Page 93 of Double or Nothing

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve moved on to the making excuses portion of the show,” Callum bellows. “So, what happens now? He going to buy some big, fancy condo for the two of you? Make sure you stay barefoot and pregnant?”

“You make him sound like a caveman,” I say with a laugh.

Callum shrugs. “If the shoe fits…”

“I don’t have a clue what we’re going to do yet. Nothing’s official until after his show here.”

Callum pulls up something on his phone. “Looks pretty official to me.” He turns the phone, so I can see it. The tabloid magazine that somehow got a picture of Sutton tying his shoe turned it into a proposal photo.

“Not even close.”

“Not that far off base either,” Sutton says from the doorway. He enters the office and makes his way over to Callum and me. After pressing a kiss to my cheek, he turns his attention to Callum. “We got off on the wrong foot.”

“Not we, you.”

“You’re right. I owe you an apology.”

Callum crosses his arms. “I don’t forgive as easily as she does.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I made a mistake leaving Kat—”

“No shit,” Callum interjects.

“Cal,” I scold him.

“No, he’s right. I fucked up, and being back here, seeing her again, did stupid things to me. I acted like an ass. For that, I’m sorry.”

Callum nods. “Just don’t hurt her again. Got it? I don’t want to have to pick up the pieces of your mess a second time.” Callum turns to me. “I’ll see you later.”

After he exits the office, I realize he never accepted Sutton’s apology, though I didn’t really expect him to.

“Pick up the pieces? Want to tell me what that means?”

I throw a look his way, one that tells him he has no right to ask. Just like I didn’t have a right to ask about Val.

“We both have pasts, right?”

With a groan, he agrees.

“Any other groupies I should know about?”

“Besides Jack?” I tap my finger to my chin.

Sutton’s eyes widen, his jaw going slack, and the look on his face is priceless.

“I’m just kidding, Sut. There’s no one else.”

“Jesus, Kitty Kat. You about gave me a heart attack.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours, Sutton.”

He presses a kiss to my lips, sealing the words like a verbal contract.

“Ready for dinner?”

With his arm possessively over my shoulder, we make our way out of my office. Sutton’s leading the way but not toward the restaurant where we have reservations.

“Where are we going?”

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