Page 25 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

She gripped my arms. “What’s this?”

“Just a weird day. My newest client is a handful.” I hadn’t even meant to say Dex was my client. I was still reserving judgment, even if I’d agreed to take his job.

Just none of it seemed real yet. I was still expecting him and his check to disappear into the ether like some fever dream.

She took me by the hand and dragged me over to the table. “Danny, you and Berry get us some plates.”

Berry raced inside, the door slamming behind her. My dad shook his head and followed. “That girl is always rushing somewhere.”

“Like her mama.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped over the bench to take a seat. “You should have seen this man-child, Mom. Some parts of his house looked like they had been written into that old movie,Weekend At Bernie’s. Remember it?”

“Oh, my. The over-the-top rich guy, right?”

“Exactly. Dexter Shaw has much more money than sense.”

“Shaw? Don’t you already have a client with that name?”

I grinned at my mom. “You always remember my clients. I don’t know how you do it.” I fussed with the knot on the bakery box, and suddenly, I noticed a pocket knife had been put beside it. I had the same one in my purse, which I’d left in the car.

My knife was magenta, and my mother’s, the OG, was red and full of battle scars from heavy use.

“Thanks.” I flicked out the little knife and lifted the top of the box.

“Oh, well, those are sinful.” My mom leaned forward. “Not good for my butt, Shelby Lee.”

The door squeaked again as my daughter flew outside, her pigtails bouncing. “Mom, what did you get? What did you get?” She set the paper plates and forks on the table and crowded into me.

“Give me a plate and sit like a civilized human and you’ll find out.”

Berry huffed out a breath and crawled under the table to the other side. So much for civilized. She popped up on the other side and laced her fingers together, practically vibrating. Maybe more sugar was not a good idea.

My other sugar fiend loomed over me. “Whatcha got?”

“If you sit down, I’ll give you this rhubarb tart I got especially for you.”

My dad hurried around the table to sit next to Berry and laced his fingers to match. “Ready.”

I laughed. This was exactly what I’d needed. I passed out tarts to the oohs and ahhs of my happy family.

“Look at those berries!”

Berry hadn’t gotten her nickname for any other reason than her absolute obsession with all things berries. She’d spit out most fruits as a baby until we’d tried raspberries and strawberries. After that, her fingers were usually stained red.

I grinned at her as she took a huge bite of the berry-apple tart. A ring of raspberry laced her smile. Instead of using my own fork, I took an equally big bite and her giggles smoothed out the last of my edges.

This kid was everything.

Dexter Shaw was officially tomorrow’s problem.

SEVEN

I’d never cleanedin such a frenzy in my life. But after Shelby had left—and I was still kicking my own ass for not ordering dinner for us—I’d decided that she wouldn’t walk into my place looking like a den of iniquity again.

In retrospect, it probably didn’t make sense to scrub the place from the floorboards to the beams in the ceiling just as I was redoing it, but better late than never had been my life motto since birth.

It had even been kind of fun in a sick, twisted sort of way. I’d blasted rock music from my youth, and Bob and I had danced around in our underwear—well, he favored his birthday suit—in between tossing trash and scrubbing questionable stains out of the carpet.

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