Page 64 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

“It’s rude to leave guests.” Berry craned her neck to keep her eyes on me and her grandparents, even as Shelby tried to hustle her inside.

“He’s not a guest.”

“I’m not a guest,” I agreed.

Her parents both shot me speculative looks. They were not rolling out any welcome mats, literally or figuratively.

Shelby sent me an apologetic look before the screen door slammed shut behind her and Berry.

“So, where were we?” I tried aiming a smile at her parents and found it did nothing to melt their ice. “My intentions, right.”

“A man doesn’t turn a date into a sleepover unless he has plans of a certain nature.”

“Actually, Shelby turned it into a sleepover, not me. She’d had a bit too much wine,” I added hurriedly. “So, she didn’t want to come home to her daughter in that state.”

“Shelby rarely drinks.” Danny narrowed his eyes. “Were you plying her with alcohol?”

“Absolutely not. She just was dancing a lot and not eating enough and it went to her head. The wine, I mean.” I tried another smile. “I’m a respectable lawyer, I assure you, Mr. and Mrs. Wilde.”

“The last one was a lawyer too,” her father muttered. “Try again.”

He did have a point there.

“I’m nothing like Davenport.” I didn’t growl but it was a close thing. “I barely know Berry, but I’m already finding reasons to spendmoretime with her, not less. And Shelby too,” I added.

“Mmm-hmm. Time will tell.” Her father opened the door. “Are you staying for lunch?”

“Am I invited?”

“That’s up to Shelby. But we’d like a chance to talk to you more.”

He means to grill you.

Though I smiled and nodded as I followed him and his wife inside, I considered the very real possibility I wouldn’t make it out of there fully intact.

Then I grinned. Worth it for the night I’d spent with Shelby.

FOURTEEN

We spent a perfectlypleasant afternoon together.

First with my parents over a lovely lunch of turkey, tomato, and cucumber sandwiches—which Berry tucked in a napkin that she then left in a plant in the front hall—and bowls of raspberries and cream, which my daughter so did not merit after her hiding-food trick. I was onto her hiding-food deal because she’d tried it at home a few times. But she’d had a rough night—though she’d claimed Uni her unicorn had the nightmare, not her—so I let it slide.

For now.

During lunch, my parents had grilled Dex though I was pretty sure they thought they were slick about it.

What is your law specialty?

When he’d said divorce, they’d exchanged a weighted look as if he’d said infidelity. As if there weren’t myriad reasons for people to end their union. Just because David had leaped on my supposed transgressions to end ours—when I’d balked at ending it for Berry’s sake—didn’t mean other people didn’t simply grow apart or just realize they were never well-suited in the first place.

Have you ever been married?

No.

Any children?

Not that I’m aware of.

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