That one question rips a hole in the moment and I feel all my joy seep out. “Never, if I can pull it off.”
Graham pulls away from my neck and looks down at me. “She can’t be that bad.”
I release a halfhearted laugh. “Graham, she’s the one who put the word prestigious in my wedding invitations.”
“Did you judge me based on my parents?”
I loved his parents. “No, but I met them the first day we were together. I didn’t even know you enough to judge you.”
“You knew me, Quinn. You didn’t know anything about me, but you knew me.”
“You sound so sure of yourself.”
He laughs. “I am. We figured each other out the night we met in that hallway. Sometimes people meet and none of the surface-level stuff matters because they see past all that.” Graham lowers his mouth to my chest and places a kiss over my heart. “I knew everything I needed to know the first night I met you. Nothing external could ever influence my opinion of you. Even my judgment of the woman who raised you.”
I want to kiss him. Or marry him. Or fuck him.
I settle on a kiss, but I keep it fairly quick because I’m scared if I don’t pull away from him I might tell him I’m in love with him. It’s right there on the tip of my tongue and it’s harder keeping it in than letting it out. But I don’t want to be the first one to say it. Not yet, anyway.
I quickly roll off the bed and pick up our costumes. “Fine. You can meet my mother next week.” I toss him his clothes. “But tonight you’re meeting Ava. Get dressed, we’re late.”
When I get my costume situated, Graham is still sitting on the bed, staring at me.
“What about your panties?” he asks.
My skirt is really short, and any other night I wouldn’t be caught dead in it. I look down at my panties on the floor and think about how crazy it would drive him if he knew I wasn’t wearing anything under this already-too-short skirt all night. I leave them on the floor and grin at him. “They don’t really go with my costume.”
Graham shakes his head. “You’re killing me, Quinn.” He stands up and gets dressed while I touch up my makeup.
We make it out the door.
We make it down the hallway.
But once again, we get distracted while we wait for the elevator.
* * *
“You’re late.” It’s the only thing Ava says when she opens the door and sees me standing there with Graham. She’s dressed in a two-piece pantsuit and her hair is styled like she’s straight out of Stepford Wives. She waits until we’re inside her house and then she slams the door shut. “Reid!” She yells his name and turns to look for him, but he’s standing right next to her. “Oh.” She tosses a hand toward Graham. “He’s here.”
Reid reaches out and shakes Graham’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Ava gives Graham the once-over. Then me. “Your costumes are so undignified.” She walks away without looking back.
“What the hell?” I say, looking at Reid. “Why is she being so rude?”
Reid laughs. “I tried to tell her it wasn’t an obvious costume.”
“What is she supposed to be? A bitch?”
Reid’s face reddens. He leans in to Graham and me. “She’s dressed up as your mother.”
Graham immediately starts to laugh. “So she’s not normally that . . . unpleasant?”
I roll my eyes and grab his hand. “Come on, I need to reintroduce you to my sister.”
Ava is actually nice to Graham the second time she meets him. But then she goes into character the rest of the night and pretends to be our mother. The funniest part is that no one at the party has any idea who she’s supposed to be. That’s just a secret among the four of us, which makes it even better every time I hear her tell someone how tired they look or how much she hates children.
At one point, she walked up to Graham and said, “How much money do you make?”
Then Ava said, “Make sure you sign a prenup before you marry my daughter.”
She’s so good at being our mother, I’m relieved the party is winding down because I don’t think I could take another second of it.
I’m in the kitchen with her now, helping her wash dishes. “I thought you and Reid used to have a dishwasher. Have I lost my mind?” Ava lifts her foot and points toward the mini-fridge with the glass door a few feet away. “Is that a wine refrigerator? Where your dishwasher used to be?”
“Yep,” she says.
“But . . . why?”
“Downside of marrying a French guy. He thinks an ample supply of chilled wine is more important than a dishwasher.”
“That’s terrible, Ava.”
She shrugs. “I agreed to it because he promised he’d do most of the dishes.”
“Then why are we doing the dishes?”
Ava rolls her eyes. “Because your boyfriend is a shiny new toy and my husband is enamored.”
It’s true. Graham and Reid have spent most of the night chatting. I hand Ava the last plate. “Reid pulled me aside earlier and told me he already likes Graham more than he ever liked Ethan.”
“That makes two of us,” Ava says.
“Three of us.”
When we finish with the dishes, I peek into the living room and Graham is saying something to Reid that’s requiring a lot of arm movement. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so animated. Reid is doubled over with laughter. Graham catches my eye and the smile that appears on his face during our quick glance sends a warmth through me. He holds my stare for a couple of seconds and then focuses his attention back on Reid. When I turn around, Ava is standing in the doorway, watching as I try to wipe the smile off my face.
“He’s in love with you.”
“Shh.” I walk back into the kitchen and she follows me.
“That look,” she says. She picks up a paper plate and fans herself. “That man is in love with you and he wants to marry you and he wants you to have all his babies.”
I can’t help but smile. “God, I hope so.”
Ava stands up straight and straightens out her pantsuit. “Well, Quinn. He is very decent-looking, but as your mother, I must admit that I think you can do much richer. Now where is my martini?”
I roll my eyes. “Please stop.”
Chapter Eighteen
* * *
Now
I don’t know if Graham slept in the guest room or on the couch last night, but wherever he slept, I doubt he actually got any sleep. I tried to imagine what he looked like with his sad eyes and his hands in his hair. Every now and then I’d feel sorry for him, but then I’d try to imagine what Andrea looks like. What she looked like through my husband’s sad eyes while he kissed her.
I wonder if Andrea knows that Graham is married. I wonder if she knows he has a wife at home who hasn’t been able to get pregnant. A wife who has spent the entire night and the entire day locked inside her bedroom. A wife who finally pulled herself out of bed long enough to pack a suitcase. A wife who is . . . done.
I want to be gone before Graham returns home.