by Linde, K. A.
A weight seemed to have lifted off of my shoulders. Harmony and I had been at each other’s throats for so long. I hadn’t even known how heavy the grudge was. Not that I was ready to give up every argument I’d ever had with anyone, but the thing with Harmony was ancient history. She was my sister-in-law now. Wouldn’t it be better to be on good terms with her?
A small smile crept onto my lips, and then I headed into the fray to help the kids.
* * *
After two hours of playing dress-up, dancing, and taking pictures, most of the kids were back in their beds. The festivities had worn them out. Parents came by to thank me before leaving. Only a few stragglers stayed behind.
Jem was seated on a couch in the waiting area we’d converted for the dress-up event. I could tell that she was exhausted, but she refused to take off her princess dress. She’d chucked the wig within minutes, claiming she liked her bald head or scarf way better. And that princesses could have no hair anyway. That one day, she was going to be in her own princess movie without any hair to show everyone how beautiful and strong bald heads were.
I honestly believed her. Jem was going to take over the world. Rip those stupid beauty standards to shreds.
I wished that her parents had come for the party. I’d wanted to tell them how amazing their little girl was, but they’d never shown. Jem pretended like she didn’t care, but underneath, I could tell that it bothered her.
“It’s about time, Jem,” I told her, nodding toward her room.
“Can I keep the dress, please?” she asked, her eyes wide.
I laughed. I could afford it. Why not? “Sure.”
“Yippee!” she cheered. “I’m going to be a princess forever.”
Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and we both looked up to find English walking toward us with Court and Camden. Lark had left ten minutes ago on a mayoral emergency.
“Look what I found,” English said, nodding her head at the boys.
Jem’s eyes widened. “Whoa. You didn’t tell me you were friends with Cinderella.”
English laughed. She’d worn a blue dress for the occasion, and with her bright blonde hair, she really did look a little like Cinderella. She curtsied to Jem. “I’ve seemed to have lost a glass slipper. Have you seen it?”
Jem giggled. “I can help you look!”
“I think I saw it on the stairs,” Court murmured, pressing a kiss to English’s temple. He was dressed down in navy slacks with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’d ditched the jacket entirely.
“But you already found your Prince Charming.”
I snorted. “Court Kensington as Prince Charming. Now, I’ve heard everything.”
Jem looked to Camden, dressed to intimidate today. He’d come straight from work, and he wore an all-black suit with a black shirt and tie, too.
Then she turned her sharp eyes to me. “Is that your boyfriend?”
Camden actually cracked a smile.
“Yep. That one is mine,” I told her. “I brought him here to meet you.”
Jem tapped her lip thoughtfully. “He suits you. Villain Katherine and her Dark Prince.”
English and Court laughed together.
“She has you both pegged,” Court said.
“Well, that Dark Prince is buying your princess dress, missy,” I said, leaning forward and tickling her.
She giggled. “Okay, okay. Stop.” Her eyes fluttered up to Camden’s. “Thank you for my princess dress.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “You’re most welcome. It looks perfect on you. Does it twirl?”
Her eyes lit up. “It does!”
Then she stood and rotated in circles, so her dress flew out in all directions. English pulled away from Court to turn with Jem. And soon, I was on my feet, spinning in circles with them. My dress didn’t flare out, but it didn’t even matter. I tipped my head back, a real, raw smile on my face, and laughed with them.
I got dizzy and stumbled. Camden caught me with one arm and Jem with the other. Jem was breathing heavily.
“I think that’s probably enough for today, Jem,” I said, looking at her face growing paler.
She sighed. “I hate this part.”
Camden bent down and whispered in her ear. I couldn’t hear a word that he said, but her entire face brightened, and she enthusiastically nodded her head. A second later, he scooped her tiny body up into his arms.
She dramatically put her hand to her forehead. “I nearly swooned.”
I couldn’t stop laughing as I showed Camden which room was Jem’s and watched him carefully deposit her back in her bed. A nurse followed close behind, preparing to check all of her vitals after we were gone.
As I watched Camden fuss over Jem, a light lit in my chest. Something I had never considered before, especially since I knew Camden’s father, but… Camden would make a good dad one day. Just seeing him with Jem, it made my heart want to burst out of my chest.
He fussed with her hair, and she giggled.
“See you around, Dark Prince. Come with Katherine again.”
“I’ll do that,” he said with an exaggerated bow in her direction. Then he left her in the care of the nurse and headed back out into the hall with me.
“You’re… really great with her.”
“She makes it easy,” he admitted. His gaze snapped to mine. “This is why you wanted me to come. To meet Jem.”
I nodded. “She’s sunshine. The first day I came here, I had a panic attack. You know my fear of hospitals and being forced back into them. I couldn’t even breathe. I thought it would help me to try to overcome it, but it overwhelmed me instead. Then Jem was there, and… it all receded.”
He brushed a strand of my hair out of my face. “I’m glad that she was there when you were in distress. She seems like a very special girl.”
“She is.”
“I’ve never seen you like this before,” he said seriously and then slowly laced our fingers together. “So… carefree.”
I glanced down at where our hands were joined. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever held hands with Camden before. Butterflies took flight in my stomach.
“I’m not sure I’ve been like this since… before my father was arrested. He made me feel like this once.” I let out a slow breath. “Every year my father would give me a charm for my bracelet on my birthday. It was our thing. He added to it every year.
Camden assessed me. “That was the charm that Penn gave you for your birthday.”
I nodded. “Yes. Penn kept up the tradition after my father was sent away.”
“I see,” he said softly. “I see why that would be important to you.”
I stared down at the passing tiles. “It was.”
“You seem to have made a huge difference here.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’d say a huge difference. But I think our party went off without a hitch. We’re having a fundraising event at the beginning of March so that we can do things like this more often. I know it’s another party and that you said that I only did charity to benefit me, but it’s really not like that.”
He pulled me to a stop and tipped my chin up to look at him. “Whatever I said when I was angry, I was wrong. What you’re doing here is incredible. You’re incredible.”
“Really? I was worried you’d think that I was throwing this party to make myself look good… or something.”
“Have you posted a single picture about this party on your social media accounts?”
I frowned and pulled out my phone. I just realized that I hadn’t looked at it in hours. Hours and hours. I hadn’t taken a single picture the whole time. We’d had a photographer set up for the kids. I’d been in a few of those, but nothing on my phone. Nothing for myself.
“I… forgot actually,” I said, momentarily stunned.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Exactly. You’re doing good work. Work that you’re passionate about. I’m glad that I got to see it.”
My heart constricted at the words. I might be fal
ling in love with my husband.
28
Camden
“What the hell are you wearing?” Katherine asked as I headed down the stairs to the living room.
I stopped at the bottom and took in her outfit. A skirt so micro short that her ass nearly hung out of the bottom and a slinky gold halter top that was completely open in the back, except for a tiny string holding it up. She wore six-inch stilettos and enough makeup to completely transform her face. Even her hair had been done up in sexy supermodel curls. She looked like a knockout.
“What am I wearing? What are you wearing?”
“I’m in my divorce party outfit,” she said, gesturing to her skirt. “All of us girls are dressing up super slutty and getting wasted since English’s divorce was official last night.”
I strode over to my wife and pulled her against me. “You’re practically naked.”
“So?”
I tugged on the string that held her shirt up. She gasped, but I’d already slid underneath it and cupped her breasts. Her gasp turned into a moan.
“Camden,” she muttered, “I… I have to go soon.”
“I can be quick,” I told her.
Her heart hammered in her chest. I could feel the pulse pick up under my touch. But then she stepped back with a gulp. Her pupils dilated as she retied the string.
“Next time,” she assured me.
I sighed. I had known that she would turn me down. She was supposed to take the limo to pick up the girls any minute. But I liked seeing the reaction I could get out of her. So easy. So wanton. Fuck.
“Now… tell me about this outfit,” she said. Her gaze traveled down my body, lingering for a second too long on my erection.
“It’s just an outfit.”
“You’re wearing jeans. I didn’t even think you owned jeans.”
“Everyone owns jeans, Katherine.”
“I’ve never seen you wear them.”
I shrugged and adjusted myself. My cock was still growing at the sight of her. I was envisioning bending her over the arm of the sofa and fucking her, and I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind.
“This is a T-shirt,” she added.
“Yes. You’ve seen me dress down before.”
She shook her head. “But that was in Puerto Rico and the Maldives or, like, at night. Not when you’re going out. Where are you going anyway?”
“Just going to go get a drink since you’re going to be out in that fucking outfit all night. If I stay here, I’ll jack off, thinking about you.”
She flushed, and a teasing smile lit her cherry-red lips. “Oh, yeah?”
“Do you like the idea of me touching myself when I think about you?”
I bridged that gap again and slid one hand up her inner thigh. The skirt was so short that I met the edge of her lace panties almost immediately. She shivered at my touch.
“Maybe I do.”
“We still have time for me to fuck you.”
A small huff left her lips, and then she reluctantly stepped back. “I’m already late. Fuck.”
“Later then,” I told her. She nodded. Her eyes were glazed with desire. “Where will you all be?”
“We’re going to bar hop. I think we’ll start at Sparks and end at Club 360.”
I pointed upward. “You’re ending at the club on top of Percy Tower?”
She shrugged. “I thought it would be easiest for me. Plus, it really lights up at around two in the morning.”
“Find me after,” I told her.
“Oh, I will,” she said, placing one kiss to my lips and then darting for the elevator.
I adjusted my jeans again. I really didn’t wear them very often. Only when I was going to Hank’s, but I wasn’t ready to tell her about Hank’s. Soon but not quite yet.
I headed downstairs and took the Mercedes out of the Upper East Side. It was forty-five minutes before I made it to Hank’s. The traffic was horrid as everyone drove through the city on Saturday evening. Normally, I only came to the bar on weekdays. I remembered why.
The bar was packed. Twice as many people than the last time I was here. It was likely because it was a Saturday night but also because the weather was unusually mild for an evening at the end of January. As if some of the ice had thawed. Though I suspected it was only a matter of time before the chill returned. Our winters rarely disappointed.
I saw Ricky and Big Al playing a team game against two women I’d never seen before. They appeared to be losing. That was something. Maybe I’d offer to play one of the women after I got myself a drink. A new challenge was always welcome.
“Camden,” Monica said with a wide smile on her face. “Long time. Haven’t seen you since Christmas.”
“It’s good to be back.”
“You look to be in better sorts than the last time I had to carry your drunken ass to your place.”
I grinned as she slid a glass of scotch across the bar. “As much as I appreciate you helping me back to my place, I don’t think I’ll need that tonight.”
“Excellent. A woman can only do so much.” She poured two tequila shots without comment. “You have some pep in your step. What’s going on in the world of Camden Percy?”
I took the shot, and we held it aloft before downing it. Someone called for Monica’s attention. I waved her off to fill some more drink orders. She came back about fifteen minutes later and refilled my scotch.
“So… tell Mama Monica what’s going on.”
“Things are good,” I confided. “They’re really good.”
“I love to hear that,” she said as she poured a pitcher of beer. “Is this about your wife?”
I nodded. “Yes, she moved back in.”
“That’s great, Camden,” she said, pushing the pitcher down to a group of guys and pocketing the tip. “Was it the truce? Did you take my advice?”
“Yes, and no.”
I had no idea why it was so easy to talk to Monica. But she was probably the only person I’d met who actually seemed to care. She had no stake in the outcome. Who the hell was she going to tell my problems to? I’d known her two years, and she’d never once blabbed my problems to the press. I came as close to trusting her as anyone.
“We tried the truce, but it ended up backfiring. Got a lot worse from there. But we talked, and I think we’re back on even footing.”
“Love to see one of my boys in love,” Monica said, batting her eyelashes at me.
My lips turned down at the comment. In love. It was hard to even think that word. Love meant criticism. Love meant responsibility. Love meant pain. Love had never meant Katherine Van Pelt with all of her fire and all of her fierce determination. It had never meant…happiness.
“I’ve… never actually said that to anyone before,” I said in such a small voice that I wasn’t sure she’d even heard me.
She was busy putting together a round of shots for six women who didn’t even look to be of legal drinking age.
But when she finished, she whirled back to me. A frown was on her lips. “That’s awful, Camden. Your family never said it?”
I shook my head with a stiff laugh. “You don’t know my dad. He’s not exactly the affectionate type.”
She sank her hip into the bar. “I know his type.”
“Yeah? A right bastard?”
She chuckled as she grabbed the tip from the girls, who had turned their attention to me sitting there, alone. One of the girls giggled and nudged her friend forward.
Monica put her hand out. “Sorry, ladies. Wouldn’t try your luck with this one.”
The girl’s eyes rounded, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Here,” I said, putting down a fifty. I nodded at the girls. “Shots on me.”
“Oh, wow, thanks!” she said with another giggle and returned to her friends.
“You know that’s going to bring upon unwanted attention,” Monica admonished.
“After you shooed them away?” I asked. “I softened the blow.”
&nb
sp; “Well, fine then,” she said as she disappeared to take another order.
I slid my glass across the bar and lounged back, observing the crowd playing pool. I was intrigued by the women playing Ricky. It appeared they’d beaten him. Ricky was an all right player, too. I’d have to get in on that.
Monica appeared then with a beer with an orange slice on the rim. “Can you take this to Big Al when you go over there to beat those women?”
“How did you know?”
She snorted. “I’ve been watching you for two years, son. I think I know who your next victim is.”
“Fair enough. I’ll take another scotch, too.”
“Sure thing.” She poured the drink but held on to it as she looked up at me. Her eyes were full of concern, where there was normally only humor. “You know… if you love this girl, you let her know. You hear me? Waiting doesn’t help anyone. Take it from someone who knows.”
Then she passed me the drink and disappeared again. I considered her words. They were heartfelt. I could feel it to my bones. I knew that she was right.
Maybe I should tell Katherine how I really felt. Maybe the time for waiting was over.
29
Katherine
My girls looked like straight fire. I hadn’t seen so much skin in one place since Puerto Rico. English was in a teeny-tiny little black dress with mile-high heeled booties. She wore a sash that read Divorced AF and a shiny tiara. The rest of us were in gold outfits to complement her black. Together, we looked like every boy’s wet dream.
By the end of the night, when we’d finally dragged our drunk asses from Sparks to Factory and then from there to Club 360, we were a hot mess. English’s tiara had been lost. Her sash was askew. We were stumbling through the crowds, laughing and having the time of our lives.
I pushed through the crowd at the top of the world and ordered shots from the bartender. We had a booth at the back, but we hadn’t been in it for more than a minute since we got here, all of us preferring the high energy on the dance floor. Or possibly it was the alcohol talking.