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“I’ve grown attached to them. I’m not holding on to them because I have negative self-esteem. Not anymore. They’ve become . . . I don’t know . . . a collection. Mine. I don’t want to part with them.”

“So explain that to Mason,” Daff said reasonably. “He loves you, he’ll understand.”

“I know. But he can be stubborn, and I just want to give my caterpillars a temporary safe haven until I can convince him of that fact. He’s already disappeared three of them and he won’t tell me where they’ve gone.”

This was absurd. But kind of cute, too.

“I suppose I can keep them for a while.”

“Oh thank you . . .”

“Not for long,” Daff warned her sharply. “You don’t sort this out soon and I’ll start disappearing them myself. So you and Mason find a way for caterpillars and butterflies to safely coexist.”

Daisy grinned cheekily at that and nodded.

“Definitely,” she said and hugged Daff before taking a step back to peruse her appearance. “You look nice. Are you going out?”

“Yes.”

“On a Tuesday night?”

“Yes, Mom. I have a social life even during the week,” Daff said with a roll of her eyes.

“Jeez, no need for sarcasm, I was just asking.”

“It’s just a . . . a meeting, kind of. With Spencer,” Daff confessed, trying not to look or sound self-conscious.

“Spencer? Really?” Daisy looked inordinately pleased by that news, and Daff smiled. “That’s great, Daff.”

“We’ve been planning your crazy mixed ‘last glorious days of singledom’ party,” Daff elaborated, and Daisy smiled widely in response to that.

“Thank you,” she said and then surprised Daff by enfolding her into another warm hug. “I know you guys don’t always get along and I’ve been worried, even though Mason has been telling me that I’m stressing for nothing. I’m so glad to know he was right.”

“We love you guys,” Daff said into Daisy’s neck. “And we want your wedding to be perfect and stress-free. That’s more than enough reason for us to set aside our differences.” She tried not to wince as she showered her sister with comforting half truths, but who knew, maybe tonight would be the night they actually, for real, set aside their differences.

Daff still had no idea why he had asked her to dinner, or—more pertinently—why she had accepted. In fact, she shouldn’t have texted him in the first place, but once her smugness in provoking a reaction from him had worn off, she’d immediately felt bad for pushing him like that. She’d felt the need to end their lunch on a more positive note. She certainly hadn’t expected a dinner invitation after the way they had left things.

“What time are you meeting him?” Daisy asked, stepping out of the hug.

“He’s picking me up in about ten minutes.”

“Oh gosh, and you were getting ready? I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“It’s nothing.” Daff shrugged, feeling a bit awkward. “It’s not like it’s a date or anything.”

Except she’d been fussing over her clothes and makeup almost exactly like it was a date. She now found herself grateful for Daisy’s interruption, because it put everything back into context.

“Maybe not, but I’m sure you still want to look nice.”

Daff lifted her shoulders casually. “Makes no difference to me. I mean, we’re probably just going to Ralphie’s or MJ’s. Not exactly fancy.”

“Well, you still look very pretty,” Daisy said warmly, and Daff looked down at the black jersey knit dress that she’d fully intended to change before her sister’s untimely interruption. It was too low in the neck, too high in the hem, and definitely clung to her slender curves a little too lovingly. It was entirely inappropriate for a casual dinner with Spencer Carlisle. An authoritative rap sounded at the door and Daff stifled a sigh. It was too late to change now. She squared her shoulders, smoothed her hair, and moved toward the door. She swung it inward just as he lifted his hand to knock again, and he lowered his arm and his eyes ran over her body solemnly.

“You look nice,” he observed, his voice so neutral he might as well have been commenting on the weather. His regard shifted from Daff to a point beyond her left shoulder, and his mouth quirked while his eyes wrinkled at the corners.

He smiled with his eyes. Daff had never noticed that before. It was as distinct as an actual smile—his expression warmed and his eyes shone. It was devastatingly attractive and she was quite taken with it. Sadly, the warmth wasn’t directed at her but at the person standing behind her.

“Daisy, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hi, Spencer.” Her sister moved toward him and stood on her toes while he hunkered down, allowing her access to kiss his craggy cheek. “I was just dropping something off. I’m on my way again. I just wanted to thank you for going the extra mile with Daff. Mason and I really appreciate it.”

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