Page 110 of Breathless

We lie there, a tangle of sweaty limbs, sated andboneless.

Sleepily, I lean up and watch my gorgeous girlfriend stretch across the sheets. I drag my nose against hers. “Gonna make you so happy. In this life and thenext.”

Her eyes open with a radiant smile on her lips. She tangles her fingers through my hair, and whispers, “You alreadydo.”

Epilogue

Joey

Ten MonthsLater

Tori wipesbaby Noah’s mouth with a cloth. “Sorry,nope.”

“Why can’t I hold him?” I blow kisses at her preciousson.

“Because you’re dressed up, goober. My child will no doubt aim his puke in yourdirection.”

“You’reall dressedup.”

She rolls her eyes. “No one cares if I get puked on, silly. Now quit your bellyaching and finish my hair before the boys pick usup.”

I don’t understand her logic, but she’s right to rush me because the guys will be here anyminute.

We’re dolled up in high heels, fitted dresses, and updos for a night on thetown.

“This was fun.” I wave at the mess we’ve made in her bathroom. “I always wanted to get ready for a dance with my girlfriends in high school, but something always came up and I couldn’t go.” I clip the last chunk of her hair up with a bobby pin and then take a step back to admire how beautiful shelooks.

Tori gives me a sympathetic smile, but does me a favor and doesn’t bring up my grandmother. “In that dress, you’ll upstage everyonetonight.”

“I don’t know about that, but I sure do feel pretty in this outfit. What’s the charity again?” We’re supposed to attend some gala, which is the only reason I’m wearing this much eyeshadow. For the record, we’re not really gala-attending people, though I am looking forward to seeing Logan in a tuxagain.

“It’s for abandonedhorses.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I thought it was fororphans.”

“Yeah. Orphanedhorses.”

“What?”

“I hear the boys. Hurry and zip meup.”

I pause to listen, but don’t hear anything except Noah’s little gurgles. Before I can respond, Tori waves a card atme.

“Forgot to tell you. Gina Hartley wants you to do her hair for her wedding nextmonth.”

I hiss through my teeth. “Next month is pretty booked.” Since I came back from Florida last fall, I’ve done more weddings than I can count. Tori showed her friends photos of her hair and booked me several gigs, and since then, word of mouth hasspread.

“Don’t forget to take a pic of my hair for yourInstagram.”

“Yes, slave driver.” I smile as she chuckles. Tori and Kat have been instrumental in retooling my social media so I can use it to attract newclients.

“Ladies,” a male voice booms from the other room. “Your chariotawaits.”

I pause to listen. “That sounds like Brady. I thought Logan and Ethan were picking usup.”

She shrugs, not lookingworried.

Before I follow her, I give myself a quick once-over and smile at the hot pink streaks that run along the back of myhair.

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