Holy. Shit.
I stare at Hadley in her form-fitting blue dress, paralyzed by perfection. Her hair, her light dusting of makeup, everything about her is an angelic revelation in my doorway. My pulse launches some weird thump through my body as my gaze roves over her, distracting my brain from its duties in this moment.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, hovering in the hall like it’s just another day of her yelling at me in her sweats.
“Um.” I shake my head to clear away the effect of her. “Nothing. I mean, you look…”
“Hot,” Naomi finishes with a smirk. I glare down at my niece, who shrugs with a mischievous look. “What? She does. You need to work on your poker face, Uncle J.”
Fine. She does. Like, distractingly so. This is a huge mistake.
“You don’t look so bad yourself. Who knew you’d clean up so nice?” Hadley quips, tugging the rolled-up sleeve of my button-down. I couldn’t bring myself to do a tie, but I at least put on my best jeans and a legit business-casual shirt. Naomi said I looked like a rocker going to court. I didn’t tell her I definitely wore a version of this outfit to the depositions. She also said Hadley would love it, which I brushed off at the time. Now, the look she’s blistering at me is making me want to beef up my button-down shirt collection.
“You look beautiful too, Naomi,” Hadley says, and I expect a snarky response from my niece. Even though I know for a fact she tried extra hard tonight, she’ll never admit it. I’m surprised when she blushes with a shy smile.
“Thanks,” she says, glancing down at her black lacey shirt and jagged-edged black skirt with ripped black leggings underneath. She still looks like a vampire princess to me, but at least she’s a formal vampire princess for this event.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask Hadley. Now that she’s seen us, I wouldn’t be surprised if she wants to back out. Now that I’ve seen her, I’m kind of hoping she does. I’ve already been more and more distracted by her presence lately—and that was before I’d have to deal with images of her in that dress from this point on. Damn.
Her return look contains more than humor, though. Somehow I sense the stakes of this little joke are higher than I initially thought. There’s more to this than a family prank, but I don’t want to pry in front of Naomi. Plus, it’s really none of my business.
“I’m so sure. Let’s go, babe,” she teases, reaching for my arm.
I’ll never admit how much I like hearing her call me that.
The restaurant looms through the windshield, looking about as stuck-up and pretentious as I expected. April Mist is etched above the door in a font so small it’s like you’re not supposed to see it, as if bragging to every passerby that, yes, this place is that exclusive. April Mist? Sounds more like a women’s toiletry product. I already hate it. In fact, I’m about to apologize to Hadley and bail when she reaches over and takes my hand.
A jolt of electricity fires through me, clearing my head of everything except her. I instinctively glance down at her hand on mine. Thin silver bands circle two of her long slender fingers, the only jewelry I’ve noticed so far. It’s so her—simple, elegant, unabashedly self-assured—that I find myself getting hard. Over a stupid silver band? Yes, because now all I can think about are those fingers unbuttoning my shirt, my jeans. Sliding down my chest and into—
“You ready to do this?” Hadley asks.
I blink and clear my throat. “What? Oh. Yes.”
Her grip tightens, and I study the hard set of her jaw as she stares at the restaurant. Hmm… maybe I’ll be fighting battles for two different women in the same day. I cover her hand with mine, and she snaps me a surprised look.
“We got this, babe,” I tease, trying to ease her tension.
She returns a weak smile, and laces her fingers in mine, tugging the knot of our hands and capturing it against her chest. For several seconds she holds us there in silence, connected against her heart. I stare down at the strange picture, wondering what she’s thinking, hoping whatever this is is what she needs.
My gaze drifts to the simple chain around her neck. It doesn’t even have a pendant on it. It’s so thin it’s almost transparent against her pale skin, and I follow the curve around her neck, across her collarbone and… disaster. My roaming gaze clips the edge of our hands and lands on the swell of her breast. Just a hint. Just enough to ignite every ember already burning inside me.
Damn this is going to be a long, brutal night. Since when did holding a girl’s hand become an R-rated activity?
She sighs and closes her eyes. “Sorry,” she says finally, freeing our fingers. She places my hand back on my lap, and the chill of her absence spreads through my palm. “Let’s go.”
I nod and turn to Naomi in the backseat. “You ready?”
My niece doesn’t respond, her head bobbing in a clear rhythm. I wave my hand near her face, and she pulls an earbud out.
“You ready?” I repeat.
“For what?”
“To go inside and meet Hadley’s family. Remember, we’re pretending Hadley and I are dating.”
“Your weird plan is a go, got it.” Naomi looks over at Hadley in the passenger seat. “Is it true your parents are Pearl Andrews and Remington Crawford?”
“It’s true,” she answers in a polite tone. I can tell she likes that question about as much as I’m loving the annoying sign on the restaurant.
“And Jasmine Crawford is your sister?”
Hadley nods.
“And Teodoro Crawford is your brother?”
Hadley sighs. “Also true.”
“Damn,” Naomi mutters. “How’d you turn out so normal?”
Hadley grins and finally seems to relax.
We hold hands again on the walk to the restaurant, but this time as an act. Not gonna lie, I still like the feeling of her hand in mine, even when it’s just for show.
“Ms. Crawford,” one of the suited security guys at the door says as we approach.
“Hi, Bruce. How’s Mary doing?”
“Much better. Thanks for asking.” The slightest hint of a smile cracks the hard man’s face. The other guy opens the door for us, and we all move inside.
“A full security detail for dinner?” I ask under my breath.
Hadley gives me a look. “Just wait.”
We must be late because everyone else is seated when we make our way into the private dining room. Hadley has tensed to the point where her hand has latched onto mine for real again. I squeeze back to reassure her as her glossy family beams with phony radiance at our arrival.
“Hadley, darling!” A woman who could be her sister says, gliding toward us.
I recognize Pearl Andrews immediately. She’s been in a quarter of the movies I’ve seen in the last three years. Remington Crawford, who approaches as well, was in another quarter. Their luminescent smiles falter when their gazes rest on me. They downright crash when they slide to Naomi.
“And who do we have here?” Pearl asks in the most forced enthusiasm I’ve ever encountered.
“Mom, this is my boyfriend Julian and his niece Naomi.”
“His niece?”