“She isn’t.”
Her expression said she did not fully believe me.
I brushed my thumb over her knuckles. “Bug loves nights with my parents. They spoil her rotten, she gets pancakes, and my mom gets to pretend she isn’t counting the minutes until she can steal her again. One night with her grandparents every once in a while, is perfectly acceptable.”
“And you? Are you okay with it?” she asked because she must have known on some level that all this time, Isla had been the center of my universe. That wasn’t changing, but I was making room for another person at the center.
“I get a night with the woman I love.” I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’m more than okay.”
Her eyes softened. The car moved through the city, traffic lights sliding over her face in red and gold. She tried to guess where we were going, and every few minutes, her thumb shifted against mine like she was reminding herself I was still there. I didn’t let go. When the car finally turned through the iron gates, Catherine leaned forward.
“What is this?”
“You’ll see.”
The driver stopped at the end of a candlelit path. I stepped out first, then held my hand out for her. She took it and emerged from the car, the blue dress catching the night air. The conservatory glowed ahead of us, warm and golden, tucked between trees and overflowing with greenery.
CHAPTER 32
Catherine Celia
The conservatory looked like something out of a dream. The glasshouse glowed beneath the night sky, tucked behind iron gates and trees thick enough to make the rest of the city feel far away. Candlelight flickered along the stone path. Inside, flowers climbed the walls, vines draped from overhead beams, and soft golden lights hung above a table set for two. I stopped walking.
Hunter’s hand tightened around mine. “Too much?”
I looked at him. Black suit. Forest green eyes. One hand in mine like he had every intention of keeping it there.
“It’s a lot, but it’s perfect,” I said.
Relief moved over his face so quickly my chest softened.
“Got all the staff to sign NDAs too,” he said with a crooked grin.
I laughed, and his eyes warmed like he had been waiting all night for that sound. Inside, the air smelled like flowers, fresh herbs, and warm earth. A table sat beneath a canopy of white blooms, surrounded by citrus trees in large stone planters.Beyond the glass walls, the Dallas skyline shimmered in the distance, softened by leaves and candlelight.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
Hunter’s thumb brushed over my knuckles. “So are you.”
I rolled my eyes because the words were too much and exactly enough. “Very smooth.”
“I’m trying.”
“You’re succeeding.”
His smile was small, almost shy, and somehow that did more damage than if he had given me the cocky one. Dinner started with roasted tomatoes and fresh mozzarella, then pasta that made me immediately suspicious of Isla’s involvement.
“Your daughter helped plan this menu, didn’t she?” I grinned.
Hunter leaned back in his chair. “She was consulted.”
“I knew it.”
“She said you liked pasta.” He shrugged.
“I do.”
“She also suggested Moana-themed cupcakes, but I had to draw a line.”
