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A smile graces my lips as soon as I walk inside the house.
I’d visited the Coopers’ home several times when we were growing up. So many great memories were made, much like my own home. Something about this house felt like home too.
Perhaps, it has something to do with Haden and Presley’s love for reading. They own an expansive publishing house, so they live and breathe literature. Naturally, their home library is what I call a piece of heaven—so many talented works hidden inside the leather-bound covers. When you step into the library, there’s even a particular scent that calms your soul.
“Addy,” Presley calls softly from the stove as she stirs a stew that smells absolutely divine. “It’s been a while.”
I move toward her, leaning in to kiss her cheek then forward to inhale the aroma. My stomach makes a slight growl but thankfully isn’t heard over the sound of the simmering food.
Presley is a gorgeous woman with long curly tendrils that remind me of Jessa’s. I’ve always enjoyed spending time with her, eager to learn about what’s happening with work and the authors who write for them. The publishing industry fascinates me, and I’ll never get tired of listening to her talk about books.
My hands reach out for the stool, pulling it out so I can sit and talk with her. Cruz abandoned me for his gaming room, and his dad, Haden, isn’t anywhere to be seen.
Presley joins me, pouring herself a white wine and one for me.
“I want to know everything that’s happening with you before the boys walk in.”
“Lucky, nothing is happening, so this will be quick.” I grab the tomatoes in front of me and start slicing as Presley tosses the salad. “I’m working part-time while still finishing my degree. Not sure how I’ll juggle it, but if Millie could do it with a husband and kid, I can do it being single.”
“Fair point to make. Hopefully, my son doesn’t drive you crazy and allows you time to study. By the way, is he still going out with that Fallon girl?”
“You mean Elle?” I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t think so. She got all clingy, and you know him, the moment a girl clings to him, he runs a mile.”
“Like father like son,” Presley snickers.
“Speaking of Haden, how are things? Mom mentioned some new merger, and the both of you are working nonstop.”
Presley grows unusually quiet while pouring the dressing onto the salad, but then her shoulders relax, and she releases a long-winded sigh.
“We’re just as bad as each other, something we learned very early on in our marriage. So even though we’re still growing as a company, I’m glad to take some time to sit back and have a break when called for. In fact, Haden and I will be traveling to the Bahamas in a few weeks for a mini vacation.”
“Excuse me?” I blurt out with a serious expression. “Haden and Presley Cooper are taking a vacation? In what alternate universe have I found myself in?”
She grabs a piece of cucumber and tosses it to me with a grin.
“When your kids are grown, it’s nice to unwind with your husband. Besides, Masen handles our bigger clients now.”
“Apple doesn’t fall far from Daddy’s tree,” I mutter.
“It certainly does not.”
Our laughter slows down when Haden walks in with his usual smirk. Of all the men my dad is friends with, Haden is much younger and is best friends with my Uncle Noah.
Yet over the years, I’d heard Mom and Presley gossip about Haden in his younger years. The wild stallion who could never be tamed, also known as the office jerk. At least, that’s what Presley often called him. They butted heads quite a lot, but apparently, it was because Haden was some sex maniac.
Oh God, why am I even reliving this conversation? The man is standing right across from me.
“If it isn’t Dr. Edwards,” he voices before kissing Presley on the cheek. “How much do I owe you for keeping my son grounded?”
Haden never appears to age. He’s a few years younger than Presley, but neither one of them look their age. His dark hair doesn’t have a single gray hair, and you can’t find any wrinkles on his face. Behind his reading glasses, his eyes shine bright and are the same shape as Cruz’s.
But if anything, Haden and Masen look remarkably alike from memory. Cruz is somewhat a mix of Haden and Presley.
“That’s all Cruz, not me,” I tell him proudly. “Your son works hard for the game.”
“And I assume he’s busy now, playing the PlayStation?”
