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Call it a mother’s instinct or something because she’s right. I feel different. Calmer. Even Dad’s presence hasn’t immediately raised that conflict of hackles and respect in me.

“Where is my daughter-in-law? I’d like to meet her, then immediately ask her about a wedding celebration in the Hamptons.”

I give her a soft smile. Mom is all about being showy to her friends, the world, but she’s Mom, too. Loving. Kind. A big marshmallow inside.

“She’s doing her thing right now,” I say, turning to seek out Sienna but spotting her immediately because I’ve been aware of her presence every second we’ve been here.

“She’s working?” Mom asks.

“Yeah, networking. Hopefully to get a new business off the ground. Honestly, Mom, she’s a force. Wait until you meet her.”

Mom snakes an arm around my waist and leans her head on my shoulder. “My baby boy, all grown up.”

Okay, I guess I’m her favorite, again.

“You look lovely,” I tell her. She’s gone all out in a sequin floor-length gown and her hair has been salon blow-dried, signature red lipstick on.

“A little something I threw on,” she says, rolling her eyes but not blushing. Mom is here for a compliment, always. She was on the college cheer squad when she met Dad and still likes to prove she’s got it after a wine or two. I guess I get some of my confidence from her.

We’re a privileged family but Mom was raised in a small suburb, lucky to get a cheerleading scholarship to college, where she met Dad, and she may not work professionally these days but she’s a rock-solid human. Everything from keeping the wheels on Harris life to chairing charity boards and taking random courses to learn some pretty cool shit to share with her ladies who lunch. She’s one in a million.

Speaking of… “Sas, couldn’t you be bothered to dress up for the occasion?” I ask, leaving Mom’s side to give my sister a theatrical once over.

Mom flicks a hand against my shoulder as TJ laughs and Sas says, “Fuck off, Jax.”

Objectively, my sister looks great, actually. She’s wearing a tuxedo jumpsuit like she’s stepped right out of a designer store. The kind I reckon her junior agent salary didn’t support, so much as her boyfriend’s twenty million a year football contract – negotiated by Dad.

My sister might be as fierce as Sienna, almost as hardworking, too. But I’m not about to blow smoke up my older sibling’s ass. That’s not how us Harris kids roll.

“Are you pretending to work tonight, or are you here for the eye-candy?” I tease her.

“I don’t need to window-shop, Jax. You’ve met Colton, right? Big, broad, muscly, insanely handsome and talented, the way every other professional athlete is besides you,” Sas bites.

I hold my hands to my chest. “Ouch, that hurts, Sas. I might go cry into my Stanley Cup winner’s ring.”

TJ guffaws as Sas steps on tip toe and leans into my ear. “Be careful, Jax, I might have a glass of champagne and spill your dirty secret to Mom.”

She wouldn’t expose Sienna and me. Not here, tonight. She wouldn’t do that to either of us or Mom. Still, I narrow my eyes on her. “What do you want?”

She taps her finger to her jaw, as if she’s thinking. “Hmm. Tell me I’m the best sister in the whole world, ever.”

“You’re the best sister in the whole world, ever,” I recite, holding up my crossed fingers.

“Tell me I’m the prettiest woman in the room,” she says.

I shake my head slowly as I clock Sienna heading our way and looking incredibly nervous but utterly mesmerizing. “I can’t do that,” I tell Sas, because I am all eyes for my gorgeous wife.

Sas rocks into me. “Fair. Sienna looks insanely great,” she says, and I can only nod as I stand taller, blood thumping, trying to talk myself out of planting my lips on her the second she’s close enough.

I can’t, I know. But I do step toward her, take her hand, and release some of my desire by pressing my lips to her cheek. Which is an error, because she smells so damned good, I linger there, eyes closing as I breathe her in.

Yep, I’ve fallen. Hard.

Mom gasps loudly behind me and I whisper to Sienna, “Apologies in advance. She’s very excited to meet you.”

As I pull away, Sienna’s eyes flutter open. I can’t be making this up. She’s feeling something more than a PR spin between us. She’s got to be.

“Oh my word!” Mom says, stepping between us and grabbing Sienna’s hands while she gives her an up and down. “You were pretty dressed as a minion but in real life, you’re a knockout.”