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It’s more than I’ve ever imagined a kiss could be, and it hasn’t even started yet.
Dear God, I’m in so much troub—
“Ow,” I groan as a huge force at my back slams me into the hard wall of Cap’s body and bumps our chins and teeth together.
Cap winces too, rubbing at his face with a hand and steadying me at the hip with the other.
I turn to find the offending object, just as it—he—turns to glare at me.
And the resemblance is startling. Familiar light-brown eyes, only a few more wrinkles in their creases. The same hair, only peppered with white and gray. The same strong jaw. Even the same nothing-but-trouble smirk appears on his lips when recognition takes over his face.
Fast-forward twenty or thirty years, and I imagine this is exactly what Caplin Hawkins will look like.
“Dad,” Cap confirms from behind me, reaching over a shoulder to take what is apparently Jared Hawkins’s hand. “Happy birthday.”
Jared smiles then, our collision and the complexities of who might be at fault forgotten, and pulls the woman in his arms forward.
She’s beautiful. And I mean that vividly. Long golden hair, high cheekbones, and full, luscious lips, she has the features of a much younger woman.
It’s only in the tiny, superficial lines around her eyes that her age shows at all.
“Mother,” Caplin greets then, and my body jolts with past embarrassment. For the sake of all involved, though, I do my best to lock it down. There’s absolutely no way I can go into the details of that mortifying phone call without making a scene.
“Caplin,” she says back and pushes past me to place air kisses on both of his cheeks.
As soon as she steps back, Cap jostles me back into place, but the spell is broken. Now that his body isn’t warming mine, I remember what a bad idea all of it really is.
As much as I wanted that kiss, as much as I still want to feel his lips on mine, it’s probably a good thing it didn’t happen.
But the ghost of his touch fires an aftershock on my lips, and I have to lift a hand to them to stop the burn.
Okay. So, I guess it’s a good thing it only half happened.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins,” I say, pulling forward and away from Cap’s embrace. “It’s great to meet you.”
Jared’s smile is warm and inviting, but Victoria’s doesn’t quite meet her eyes. Though, now that I’m looking closely, that might just be from a little cosmetic help called Botox.
“How lovely to meet you, doll,” Jared says, and it reminds me so much of Cap, I grin over my shoulder to let him know.
He rolls his eyes, but it’s pretty clear he knows. He comes by his large personality honestly—genetically.
“Who is this beauty, Cap?” Jared asks. His wife rolls her eyes at the use of the nickname, but neither Cap nor Jared pay it any attention.
Instead of waiting for Cap’s colorful commentary, I hold out a hand to Jared. “Ruby Rockford, sir. I work for your son. Thanks for having me here tonight. And happy birthday.”
“Thank you.” He smiles as he looks between Cap and me, and I can only imagine the things he’s thinking. I’m just about to nervously chatter myself into a corner when Lena shoves into the middle of our circle and smiles.
“What? Family reunion time, and I wasn’t invited?”
Her father melts, clearly smitten with his grown baby girl, while her mother literally rolls her eyes. “You’re always invited LeeLee,” Jared murmurs, wrapping an arm around Lena’s shoulders and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
I suddenly feel extremely out of place. I shuffle backward, intent on finding my way out of their group, but Cap grabs me by the hips and redirects me right back in. I shoot a glare over my shoulder, but he just grins. The bastard.
“It’d be nice if you started making your own family circle, dear,” Victoria comments. “You’re getting old. I’m not sure how much longer you have before no men find you desirable.” The whole mood of the group takes a nose dive, and I wince.
Gah. Cap wasn’t kidding about how shitty it must have been for Lena having Vicky as her mom.
My mom is neurotic and paranoid, but more than any of that, she’s loving.
Lena bites her lip against what must be an onslaught of emotion and then visibly gathers herself. For her part, Vicky may as well not even be a part of the conversation.
Lena’s talking to Jared, and she’s talking to Cap, and she’s even talking to me.
But to Vicky? Her eyes don’t even bother moving in her mother’s direction.
I have to admire her strength.
“I actually have some news,” Lena says, and a small, slightly uncertain but mostly excited smile lifts her mouth. “I got into the Milano Fashion Institute. So, I’m happy to tell you that I’ll be going to Italy in late December for their winter semester.”
