Page 50 of With a Cherry On Top

“So you cheated.”

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. The answer isn’t a simpleyesorno, and I don’t think the truth paints me in a much better light.

“You could say I cheated, yes, but not on my wife.” Her forehead creases, and I continue. “I fell in love with Josie when we were kids, but I never did anything about it. My brother, on the other hand, isn’t as slow as me. And he didn’t know about my feelings.”

Charlotte’s lips part slightly. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah.” I stare at Tony’s logo on the pizza box. “They started dating, grew up, and, of course, they had issues. Mid-twenties, figuring out their lives. Normal stuff.”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “Is that when you swooped in?”

My eyes dart to her as she masks her amusement with a sip of water.

“Hey, I’m not judging,” she says, setting the bottle down. “Brothers fighting over the same girl? Aclassic. I love the drama.”

“Oh, it wassomedrama all right,” I muse. “Because when I...swooped in, Josie got pregnant with Sadie.”

Charlotte gasps, her eyes widening. If this wasn’t one of the most painful chapters of my life, I’d almost enjoy her reaction.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.” I take a deep breath. “And...Josie decided to stick with me. I guess my little brother seemed like the least smart decision. Kind of a hothead, that one. Which turned out to be wrong, since he’s successful, just had twins, and is getting married in a month.”

She hums, tilting her head like she’s piecing together a puzzle. “As opposed to...”

I shrug, pointing a thumb at myself. “Uh...a single father and divorcé with an alcoholic ex who’s restarting his career from scratch and is approaching his forties?”

Who visits an erotic website to jerk off to a cam girl fourteen years his junior?

Her grin spreads, bright and genuine, like seeing what a mess I am somehow makes me more interesting. “You know,” she says, tearing off a piece of crust, “I think having your life together is grossly overrated.”

“Really?”

“Yes. All the best people only figured it out later in life. They explored, made mistakes, hit a wall a million times before they found their thing.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

She waves a hand dramatically. “Vera Wang didn’t design her first dress until she was forty. Christian Dior was an art dealer before he eventhoughtabout fashion. And Anna Wintour got fired before she became the editor-in-chief ofVogue.”

I smirk. “So modeling’s your true calling.”

For a moment, she hesitates. Then she shifts in her chair, arching her back just enough to be provocative, her eyes locked onto mine. “What do you think,Chef?”

My throat goes dry.

Jesus.

I look away, pretending to study the corkboard hanging crooked on the wall that leads to the kitchen—pinned with old to-do lists, postcards, and a couple of sun-bleached Polaroids. “Yeah, no. Absolutely.”

She laughs, delighted. “Stop getting all squirmy.”

“I’m not?—”

“Oh,please.” She grins. “Seriously, if you want to pretend you’re not ridiculously attracted to me, you’ll need a better poker face.”

I press my palm against the back of my neck. “I’m not...” My fingers feel damp.Great.My hands are actuallysweating. “A better poker face, huh?”

“Yes.” She gestures between us. “Do you thinkI’mattracted toyou?”

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