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“Then it really is a good day.” Harper grinned. “I’ll text you and we’ll figure out a time. Happy Valentine’s Day, Chloe.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Jazz hooked her arm around Harper’s neck. “She’s my date.” She gave Harper a smacking kiss on the cheek. “The guys have a gig.”

“Then you get to watch all the sappy movies tonight.”

“Damn right. Ever After is already cued up.”

“Man, I love Drew Barrymore.”

Jazz squealed. “I knew I liked you for some reason.”

Chloe’s smile went so wide, she felt her dimples pop. She’d wondered if that was ever going to happen. Being the fiancée of the man who tried to sue Oblivion for songwriting rights wasn’t exactly the way to ingratiate herself into the family. Nick made her feel as welcome as possible, but it had taken a long time for them to look at her as anything other than an interloper.

Now, with her crazy marriage to Michael…well, it hadn’t helped her cause. At least not until lately.

Harper and Jazz waved and called goodbyes to Axl.

She checked the timer on her phone and started the next phase of the ganache building.

A text message popped up on her phone.

MS: How many flat sheets do we have clean?

Well, that was a helluva question. She licked the side of her thumb and groaned. There was the right taste. She took the concoction off the heat and set it aside before running to the linen closet. Why the hell did Michael have six sets of sheets?

She’d never taken the time to count them, just swapped out the sheets weekly—or for a few weeks there way more than that—as part of her routine.

CA: 6 King and 3 Twin, why?

He replied with an emoji sticking his tongue out. How very Michael. She rolled her eyes and went back to work. After the baking was done, she set the cupcakes up on the top of the fridge. It was really the only place safe from both Michael and Axl.

By the time Michael got home, she was sweating her butt off and she was contemplating selling her kid.

Her romance level was minus twenty-seven, and her patience was somewhere around the sub-basement of hell.

She’d managed to make cupcakes, but the meal she’d planned had been sabotaged by a screaming toddler that had no interest in giving his mother a break. He was a good child most of the time, but when a full blown tantrum hit she was relatively sure he was the spawn of satan.

“Wow, what’s going on in here?” Michael stood in the doorway, a huge bag in one hand as he nudged a huge box into the apartment with his foot.

“Welcome to bedlam. Happy Valentine’s Day.” She held a flailing Axl and narrowly missed an elbow to her jaw.

“Hey, hey.” Michael set his bag down and kicked the door closed.

Axl wasn’t listening. He was so far gone that his sobs had hiccups and bubble snot. She tried to shift him to her other hip, instead she yelped and had to set him gently on the floor before he took a header.

“Hey!” Michael’s voice boomed through the room and Axl went quiet.

She opened her mouth to yell at him. It was okay for her to flip out on her kid, not him.

Instead of continuing to yell Michael crouched down in front of a hiccuping and wheezing Axl. “What’s going on, Ax-Man?”

He didn’t answer. Instead Axl shoved his fist into his mouth and gnawed on his finger.

Chloe blew out a breath. “He’s teething.”

“Ahh.” Michael dropped down in front of Axl and crossed his long legs. He picked him up off the floor. “Why are you giving Mom such a hard time?”

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