Page 140 of Never In My Wildest Dreams

“Slick. No. You helped build the agency. You love what you do.”

He tipped her chin. “You’re going to have to trust me on this. I’m a problem solver. And every solution requires weighing the stakes. What’s the highest stake here?”

“Stevie.”

“That’s right. And if I don’t make changes, then I’ll see her a few times a quarter. The visits will be rushed, and I’ll be just some guy who passes through her life. We’ll never form the father-daughter bond she deserves.”

“I’m so glad you get that. When I was a little girl, it was all I noticed. Dads holding their daughters’ hands, carrying them on their shoulders, watching them in dance class. One summer, at songwriting camp, my roommate saw her dad walking toward her, and the smile on that man’s face? The way he broke into a run to reach her? It hurt like nothing I’ve ever felt. I want Stevie to have what I didn’t.” She squeezed his fingers. “I just don’t want you winding up resentful because you gave up the career you worked so hard to build.”

“Right now, we pool our commissions. That makes us cooperative and not competitive. So, if I leave the firm, they might feel like they’ve had a big enough hand in managing my clients that they’re not willing to let them go. But again, we’ll have to wait and see.”

“So…are you saying you’ll move here?”

“If this works out the way I want, I’ll be in the city at least one week a month, so I’ll hang on to my apartment. But one thing is nonnegotiable—I won’t do anything that jeopardizes my relationship with you and Stevie. I won’t compromise our family.”

Family.

He wanted to be her family.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

“More than anything.”

ChapterTwenty-Seven

Half the guestsopted for a spa day. The other half—Booker and his former friends included—had a great time outside playing games, drinking beer, and having a good time.

Hellcat: You’re missing a heavenly mud wrap.

Booker: Not my idea of heaven, but I’m glad you’re having a good time.

Hellcat: Could be. You never tried.

Booker: There’s a reason I never tried.

Hellcat: What if we got naked together and did it?

Booker: Still no. I’ll wait till you wash off the mud and then show you a better way to get dirty.

She sent a video of her wiggling her toes, shiny with pale pink polish.

Hellcat: Look how pretty! If you were here, we could get matching nail polish!

Booker: No one’s getting near my toes.

Hellcat: Except me, right?

Booker: Including you. You’ve got access to every other body part. My feet are off limits.

She sent a GIF of a child throwing a tantrum.

Hellcat: How’s archery going?

Booker: It’s fun. But the Renegades’ enforcer’s a wild man. Good thing you kept the kids away today or Stevie would be hanging off a tree with an arrow through her T-shirt.

Being out here with the guys, almost felt like old times. Same stupid jokes, same blood-sport level of competitiveness. Even when it was as simple as shooting an arrow at a target.

It was bittersweet, though. Because he was with them—just not part of their group. They didn’t turn to him when they shattered a clay pigeon. They turned to each other, slapping backs, laughing, and making fun of the way one of them squinted or the other one jerked when he pulled the trigger.

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