Page 137 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

“I told you,” he said, pulling me close again. “I’m figuring out who I am. And apparently, who I am is a guy who wants a purple tie.”

“Next thing you know, you’ll be wearing patterned socks.”

“Let’s not get carried away.”

The DJ announced he had a request for a sappy song and we were supposed to prepare ourselves. Cash pulled me into his arms. I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Around us, the remaining guests were chatting, flirting, or dancing. All of the kids were gone. The night was winding down, but something between us was just beginning.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured into my hair.

“Are you propositioning me, Mr. Bancroft?”

“Absolutely.” His voice was low, sending shivers down my spine. “I plan to proposition you extensively.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” I looked up at him, feeling brave and certain and completely in love. “I suppose I could be convinced.”

CHAPTER 43

CASH

Iwatched Finn lead Cleo onto the dance floor, spinning her with the kind of flourish that had charmed countless women across multiple continents. She was laughing, her head thrown back, that streak of purple in her hair catching the light from the string bulbs overhead. My brother had always been good at making women laugh.

“They look good together,” my father said, settling into the chair beside me.

I tensed slightly, my fingers tightening around my whiskey glass. “They’re just dancing.”

“Of course.” Dad took a sip of his scotch, watching them over the rim of his glass. “Do you think Finn will ever settle down? Find someone the way you boys have?”

I considered the question. Finn, who changed women like most people changed socks. Finn, who’d been photographed with models and actresses and once, memorably, a European royal. Finn, who ran every time things got serious.

“I didn’t think half of us would find someone,” I admitted. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Indeed they have.” He glanced pointedly at Cleo, who was now being dipped dramatically by my brother. “Very strange things.”

I ignored the implication. “Finn’s Finn. He’ll figure it out when he’s ready.”

“Or when the right woman comes along.” Dad set down his glass. “That seems to be how it works with us Bancroft men. Fighting it tooth and nail until suddenly you can’t imagine life without her.”

On the dance floor, Finn said something that made Cleo laugh again. She playfully smacked his arm, then glanced over at me. When our eyes met, her smile softened into something just for me. My chest tightened.

“She’s different,” Dad said quietly. “From what I expected for you.”

“Different doesn’t mean wrong.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He studied me for a moment. “She makes you happy. I can see that.”

“She does.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” He stood, straightening his tuxedo jacket. “Your mother would have liked her, you know. She always said you needed someone who could make you laugh. You came out of the womb serious as a heart attack.”

The mention of my mother caught me off guard. Dad rarely spoke of her.

“You think so?” I asked.

“I know so.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t waste time overthinking this one, son. Some opportunities don’t come around twice.”

With that, he walked away, leaving me with my whiskey and my thoughts. On the dance floor, Finn was now attempting to teach Cleo some complicated move that looked more like a pretzel than a dance step. She was failing gloriously, dissolving into fits of giggles.

I couldn’t help but smile. That was Cleo, throwing herself into everything with complete abandon, not caring if she looked foolish or made mistakes. Just living. Something I was only now seeing the benefit of.