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Every time he’d met Sammy, she had been a polite and happy little girl.
“Being a parent must be pretty special.”
It was something he’d been thinking about recently, especially now Daniel was getting married. It was likely Harper would soon get pregnant. He’d be an uncle.
There would be little Duforts in the world.
He’d never considered what he and his brothers’ vow not to marry meant in regard to parenthood.
Now it was on his mind.
Was it because of Daniel and Harper’s engagement? It was probably a normal reaction when one of your siblings took the next adult step in life.
Or was it because he was now thirty?
Did he even want to be a father?
There were a lot of questions running through his mind, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, his feelings for Olivia were stirring them up.
What did that mean?
“It’s the best and hardest job in the world,” she said, finishing her wine.
They sat talking for a little while longer, then he cleared the table.
“That was delicious.” Olivia leaned back in her chair. “Thank the chef for me.”
“Hey, I paid for it.”
“Yeah, how much was it?” she asked.
“No idea, it’s just a...” He frowned and turned, then he realized she was teasing him.
“Does all this bother you?” He leaned his hip on the counter, and waved his hand around indicating his house, his wealth. She didn’t seem uncomfortable, but he knew it wasn’t the way normal people lived.
But it was who he was.
She stood, walking to him. “No. I know who you are, Fletcher Dufort. But it’s very different from my life. You’ve seen my tiny, messy home.”
Yes, he had, and he didn’t judge her.
Well, maybe her wine.
“New York is expensive. I know what you earn.” He cringed. “What I mean is, I know who you are too, Liv. This weekend I want to share all this with you. To enjoy it with you. I’ve never done that with anyone before. Will you let me?”
She stepped into his arms.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
He nodded, brushing the hair off her face. “Yes.”
“Just don’t expect me to be one of your socialites. I’m more the Cinderella type who’s going to disappear at midnight. Or in our case, Sunday afternoon.”
“Night.”
“Afternoon. I am a mom. I have kid stuff to prepare for.”
He let out a sigh.
