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“I’ll take it from here, Daphne.” I capture her lips with mine, threading my fingers through her hair to hold her close and taste her deeply. I can feel her melt into my arms; her softly purred moan pours over my tongue like the sweetest wine.
If we didn’t have a guest…
If she didn’t have stitches…
Goddamn. She’ll need a helmet for the fucking headboard when I finally get to have her.
Daphne blushes brightly when she remembers we are not alone. Emile, professional as ever, makes a big show of burying his nose in his books. She slides off my lap. “I’d better go check on Taty.”
With one more “thank you” to Emile, she darts out of the room.
Emile looks up at me and starts to scribble a figure on a sticky note. I hold up a hand before he can even get halfway through the zeroes.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I tell him bluntly. I scribble my signature on a check and hand it to him. “Write your own damn price. But I want it within the week—and Emile… I want it perfect.”
He’s not fazed. Not in the least. On the contrary, the grin on his face is damn near wolfish. “Absolutely, Mr. Chekhov. Pleasure doing business with you.”
19
DAPHNE
“Oh. My. Gosh!” Hazel throws the gift bags to the floor when she sees Tatyanna in my arms. “Look at you! Look at you, pretty princess!”
And just like that, my arms are emptied. Hazel plucks my baby from me and melts into a series of coos and cuddles. I’m relieved to not feel as anxious about it as I anticipated.
This is Hazel. My Haze. My best friend. I trust her with my life.
Apparently, I trust her with Taty’s life, too.
“Oh my God, Daph. Seriously, look at her! She’s so beautiful!” Hazel follows me into the living room and plops herself down on the couch. By the way she’s holding Taty, I have a feeling I won’t be getting my baby back anytime soon.
And I’m honestly warmed by it. Which is good. Progress.
“She takes after her daddy, that’s for sure.” I set the gift bag down next to the end table without opening it yet.
“Oh, please. Maybe her hair, but these eyes are all you. Aren’t they, pretty baby?”
Taty babbles at Hazel and wiggles her tiny fingers at her unofficial godmother.
Godmother. Shoot. I need to invite my best friend to… well, pretty much everything coming up in the next week or two.
“Hey, Haze… can we talk?”
“Ruh-roh.” She giggles and snuggles my baby close. “What did I do?”
I roll my eyes with a soft laugh. “Nothing. Yet. I wanted to know… Actually, I should tell you, first.” I take a deep breath. “I’m getting married. To Pasha.”
“Next week. Yeah, I know.” Hazel grins at me. “He called me a while back. Wanted to make sure the date worked for me. I told him, shit—I mean, shoot!” She presses her hands around Taty’s ears. “I’ll quit my job if I have to. I’m not missing this for the world!”
For the thousandth time since coming home, my jaw drops. She knows? He asked her?
I should feel something. Like hurt, or disappointment, at not being able to spring such a surprise on my own friends and family.
But I’m the one constantly surprised. Especially by my own… relief.
There’s so much going on. Too much, really. Between everything with my “parents,” my ex, the gallery, and being a new mother to a picky baby, getting married to the man of my dreams in such a short amount of time has been…
Well, I thought it would be a nightmare. An energy-zapping, gray-hair-inducing nightmare.
