Chapter Ten

Home again after the best hour of her life, Amy was exultant. She knew she should write, but she was too excited to sit still. Matteo had been everything she dreamed of, and more. Her sensual adventure and experiment had practically blown her mind.

She’d brought Ty’s flowers home the day before and they perched on her kitchen table like a silent accusation. He would be completely shocked by what she’d done.

It was almost worth telling him, just to see his reaction.

Almost, but not quite.

Amy eyed the flowers and felt guilty, as if she’d lied to Ty.

Although she hadn’t.

They were only having a fake date, after all.

Well, a few fake dates.

She squirmed a bit, feeling that wasn’t all of the truth, but there was no way she’d confess her secret desires to him.

Even though she’d called him a chicken.

Amy determinedly pulled out her pad of paper and got her pen. She had writing to do.

Inspiration had, after all, been fed by her research. Lothair was in agony, and only Argenta had the audacity to reach out and help him. Now, Amy knew how to make that scene better.

The castle was silent, save for the crown prince’s agonized cries. I darted through the corridors that led from the kitchen to the hall, following the sounds of his pain. As I ran, my outrage grew that not one soul lifted a hand to help him. They feigned ignorance of his suffering, and I knew that even if I had been commanded to do so, I would have defied that instruction.

No one should suffer so alone. I did not care what his sins had been

There were two flights of stairs rising from the hall, one on either side of the massive hearth. Dogs lay before the glowing coals on that hearth, though they were not asleep. I could see the gleam of their eyes and their readiness.

The crown prince’s cries troubled them, at least.

The stairs to the right were narrower and appeared to twist more, but his cries came from their summit. I shielded the candle with my hand and darted up the stairs. They were crooked and narrow, and the stone steps were cold beneath my feet. Near their base, there was dust upon them, and I glimpsed spider webs in the corners, and my indignation at the crown prince’s expense grew.

Who served him?

What was the merit of being the heir to the king, if he was shown no greater care than an abandoned dog?

The stairs seemed to be endless, winding high into the sky. I thought of the single spire that graced the keep, the tower that rose high above its squat companion, and guessed my destination. The air chilled with every step and the darkness seemed to grow. The crown prince’s shouts were louder and made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

And that was before a chance gust extinguished my candle.

I stumbled and almost lost my balance, well aware of the long fall behind me. I gripped the steps, the shadows pressing against me on all sides. I felt my palms go damp and smelled my own perspiration.

My own rare nightmares have been of falling endlessly, the deepest of terror fed by the certainty that there was no one to pluck me out of the abyss. These stairs could have been my nightmares come to life. I was alone. No one would aid me. This was abandonment of another kind.

My spirit quailed and I might have huddled there trembling until the dawn, but the crown prince cried out again. He, too, was lost in an abyss that terrified him. My mother had always tugged me back to the light with her touch, arousing me from sleep and banishing my terror.

I could do that for the crown prince.

Someone should.

* * *

Ty went to the bookstore on his lunch. He wasn’t entirely certain he could face Amy and not give away the truth, at least not yet.

And he needed a new book anyway, one without any BDSM. Even one without any sex. A nice tidy thriller, with a diabolical serial killer and a sleuth who figured out the truth in time. That would be perfect.

He heard Jade’s voice when he walked into the store, but headed for the mystery section.

“It’s fabulous,” Jade enthused. “And it was six kinds of wicked for you to give me this much and not the ending. This is the best erotic romance I’ve read all year. I nearly died Monday night when I realized I didn’t have it all. If I’d had your number, I’d have called and woken you up.”

Ty glanced up at the excitement in Jade’s voice.

“Where were you this week?”

“I had appointments,” a woman said and Ty’s eyes widened in recognition of her voice.

Amy?

“Well, hand over the rest. I need to know how it ends.”

Ty ducked down to consider a book on a lower shelf and shamelessly eavesdropped. Amy was writing an erotic romance?

He wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or thrilled.

Titillated. He was definitely titillated.

And relieved.

“It’s not done yet,” Amy said. “I still have to write the dark moment and the big finish…”

“And here you are talking to me when you could be writing!” Jade complained. “Go finish the book.”

“You’re sure it’s good?”

“Yes! Lothair is so hot and damaged and violent, but Argenta brings out the tenderness in him.” Jade sighed. “You can see right away that no matter what he does to her, he isn’t going to break her, and that she’s the only one who really understands him.”

“Do you believe she can heal him?”

“I know she can! Now write it already. I want to know what happens when he has her tied down in his tower room.”

Ty leaned back against the end cap as relief surged through him. Matteo was research. Amy was writing an erotic romance, so she was doing research at F5. He was more reassured than he could have believed possible.

But why should he be relieved? His reaction lasted only seconds. She had a perfect right to have fantasies and explore them, just as she’d insisted to him on Sunday. Whether she wrote about them or not was immaterial. In fact, now that he’d explored some of them with her, he was more than ready to investigate more. There was a lot to be said for the safe investigation of fantasies.

But he was still relieved. Ty smiled that his relief was because Amy was doing exactly what he would have done.

Research.

Which was just more evidence that they were right for each other.

Ty looked around the end of the shelf but Amy was leaving, carrying a large envelope that had to contain her book manuscript.

Would she confide in him? She’d said she had a plan for a new job. Was this it?

Would she let him help with her research?

Maybe he didn’t need a new book so badly, after all. Ty grabbed one blindly off the shelf and paid for it, then headed to the food court in the hopes of lunch with Amy.

* * *

It had to be her guilty conscience, but Amy could have sworn that Ty knew what she’d done with Matteo. There was a knowing gleam in his eye when he sauntered into the food court, so unpredictably late that she halfway thought he’d been at the bookstore, too.

But she would have seen him, surely.

He dropped a paperback on the table, its spine uncracked.

Had he been in the bookstore? The possibility of him knowing about her book was almost as worrisome as him learning about Matteo.

“New book?” she asked, hearing a strain in her own voice.

“Yeah, I picked it up last night but haven’t started yet.” He eyed the large envelope containing her book manuscript. “You?”

Amy rummaged in her bag and pulled out the first book she grabbed. It didn’t have a cover on it.

“I thought you finished that one.”

“Reading it again,” she said. “It was that good.”

“But not covering it up. Interesting.”

Amy had nothing to say to that. She felt herself blush, though, because she’d been caught and she had a feeling he knew it.

Ty sat down opposite her instead of in the spot diagonally across from her. He unwrapped his sandwich, then picked up his own book. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. Amy looked down. He’d never done that before and it kind of barricaded her into her spot.

It looked possessive to her in a way that Ty usually wasn’t.

She looked up to find him watching her, but he glanced immediately down at his book.

What did he know?

“I have a theory for you,” he said lightly. “A quote from Oscar Wilde.”

“Another one.” Amy smiled at his nod.

“‘Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.’” Ty arched a brow. “Maybe that’s what those books are about.”

Amy propped her chin on her hand to consider this. “Maybe. But maybe not the kind of power you think.”

“What kind of power am I thinking about?”

“Physical power. Control.”

“Not emotional power? Control over the relationship and its direction.”

“I’m thinking of the power of a woman’s desires and fantasies. Taking control of those and exploring them, regardless of what other people might think.”

“It could be the same thing.”

“Not to some people. For some people, sex happens a certain way, by the man’s choice, because that keeps women in their place.” Amy made curly quotes with her fingers around the last three words.

Ty shook a finger at her. “Freud said that the largest sexual organ was the mind.”

Amy smiled. “I like that. I think it’s true. Fantasy and desire are more potent than sensation and what goes where.”

“And both together make for better sex, as well as greater intimacy.” He nodded. “I like it.”

“Me, too,” Amy said and they shared one of those smiles that could launch an inferno. “I’ve hardly seen you this week,” she said then, and he looked down at his lunch.

“Well, you’ll have a big break from me next week. I’m going to Tokyo on Monday.”

Amy’s heart sank. “Japan?”

Ty nodded easily. “We meet with other bankers in other markets periodically. The senior partner, Mr. Fleming, is cutting back on his traveling this year, so has been handing trips off to me.”

“Beijing in February,” Amy said, remembering how he’d met Giselle.

Ty nodded. “Right. Prague in April, Tokyo this month, then Paris and London in October.”

“Glamorous life,” Amy said, not wanting to ask about their fake date for Brittany’s wedding. The last thing she wanted was to sound like a nag.

“It has its perks,” Ty said, then leaned across the table. “I’ll be back for Brittany’s rehearsal dinner on Friday night.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promised and I’ll be here,” Ty said, interrupting her with resolve. He met her gaze steadily. “I might be jet-lagged and a little wrinkled, but I’ll be here.”

Amy smiled at the notion of Ty being disheveled. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Look,” he said, leaning across the table. “You have my number but give me yours so I can call you when I land on Friday. I can pick you up here and we’ll drive out to New Jersey together.”

“Okay, but I should give you the address for the church, too,” Amy said. “Just in case, you’re running late.”

“Sounds good. And you still have to walk me through your family tree.”

“Right,” Amy said. “Well, there’s my cousin, obviously…”

“No, no, no,” Ty said. “My family tree deserved a dinner and so does yours. Tomorrow night? We can go to the same place or somewhere different. Your choice.”

“You should let me treat.”

“No way.”

“That’s not part of the deal.”

“Sure it is.” He smiled, looking unrepentant and a little bit wicked. Resolute. Amy’s heart skipped a beat, even though she knew that Ty could never be wicked, much less dangerous. He might be a fake rake, at worst, an apparent rogue with a heart of gold. Yes, that was it. “Six?”

“I’m going to cook for you one of these days.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“A promise. I’m a very good cook. Mama taught me.”

Ty smiled. “Then I’ll definitely be taking you up on that.” He glanced at his watch and his eyes widened. “I’ve got an appointment. See you tomorrow?”

* * *

Later that afternoon, Amy realized she’d left her favorite earrings at F5, in the private room. It said something for how distracted she’d been about Matteo and the inspiration he’d provided that she hadn’t thought of them immediately.

She stopped at F5 on the way home, but they weren’t in the lost and found. The girl on the desk took her name and number and said she’d have the room checked. She promised to call if they turned up.

Amy tried not to think about losing them forever.

They’d been her mom’s.

Instead, she went home and wrote. She wrote and wrote and wrote. The story was really coming together and she was motivated by Jade’s praise. She just wanted to get it all down, while it was perfect in her thoughts.

It was after nine when Amy’s phone rang. She retrieved it from her purse, but didn’t recognize the number. She answered anyway.

“Hello, Angel,” Matteo growled and she smiled with pleasure. “I have a phone now, just for you.”

Amy frowned, wondering whether she’d misunderstood him. She couldn’t be the only one who felt the power of the attraction between them.

Could she?

Did he have other women who requested private sessions?

The idea bothered Amy.

A lot.

He gave her the number. “Call anytime, Angel. I will always talk to you.”

She copied down the number. “I forgot my earrings last night, Matteo. Did you see them?”

“I have them, Angel,” he said and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Should I leave them at the desk for you?”

“Why don’t you keep them until we see each other next?” she dared to suggest.

Matteo didn’t answer for a moment, as if he’d been surprised. “I did not think there would be a next time, Angel.”

“Of course, there will be,” Amy had time to say before she heard a phone ring in the background.

“Calling late is better, Angel. I will dream of you,” Matteo vowed, then was gone.

Amy programmed his number into her phone, thinking about what he’d said—and hadn’t said. She had a bad feeling.

Just how many angels did Matteo have?

* * *

Amy was up late enough that it seemed she’d just put her head on the pillow when the alarm rang. She could hear the rain and wanted to just burrow beneath the covers and stay in bed.

Preferably with someone else.

She forced herself out of bed and headed off to work. To her surprise, the morning was awesome. Mrs. Murphy offered her a small raise and Red called with good news.

The end of the buckets in the attic was in sight.

Amy’s heart gave that little skip when she came down for lunch and saw Ty waiting for her. Would she ever get used to seeing him there?

He glanced up and smiled. She got her Friday coffee, liking how he put his book aside and rose to his feet when she approached the table.

A perfect gentleman, every time.

“Good news and bad news,” Amy said by way of greeting. She sat down and Ty did the same.

“Good news first, if I have a choice,” he said. “I’ll have time to brace myself for the bad.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Phew.” He wiped a hand over his brow and she laughed at him.

“I heard from Red this morning,” she confided.

He glanced up, his eyes bright. “And?”

“He’s arranged a line of credit. It’s not huge but I think it’s enough for the roof, which is really all I wanted.”

“That is good news. Congratulations.” He toasted her with his bottle of water, and Amy lifted her steaming cup of coffee. “Dinner will be celebratory, then. We have to go to my favorite place again.”

“That’s the bad news,” Amy said. “I can’t go for dinner.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to have a party, and I’m going to have to start cooking tonight.”

Ty sat back to study her. “Am I invited?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes! That’s why it’s not such bad news.”

“Here I thought I was being punished for something.”

“You told me you thought that stuff was too complicated,” Amy teased and he gave her a simmering look. She had a sudden thought. “I hope you didn’t make sure this worked out with Red’s bank.”

“No.” Ty shook his head and held up one hand. “Scout’s honor. I just gave you his card and that’s it. Whatever was accomplished, you did it yourself. You and I made a deal.”

When he looked at her so intently, Amy believed him.

“What about this party?”

“Well, I was thinking of having Derek look at the roof this weekend.”

“Good idea. He won’t be working with the holiday. The weather is supposed to be good, too.”

“And since Paige is going to want to come, maybe you would, too.”

Ty smiled. “To defend you against the curiosity of the princess.”

“My mom used to have a yard party every year on Memorial Day. It was wonderful, kind of the launch to summer each year. She asked friends and neighbors, and we always had such a good time.”

“And it’s a tradition that has lapsed,” Ty guessed.

“Until now,” Amy said. “I want to do it again this weekend, but with you going to Japan, it’ll have to be Sunday. Do you think that’s too short notice?”

Ty chuckled. “You could call Paige right now and she’d be tapping her toe on your porch when you got home, no matter what else she was doing when the phone rang.”

Amy laughed. “Will you come?”

“Absolutely. Will you have enough time?”

“I’ll shop tonight and have a full day in the kitchen tomorrow. I have lists already, and it’ll be a lot of work, but I’m excited. The house hasn’t seen a party for a long time.” She looked up to find Ty watching her warmly.

“You don’t have to cook.”

“Actually, I do.”

“Need some help?”

“No, thank you. I might get weepy, going through my mom’s cookbooks. She always wrote little notes in them. Probably better if it’s just Fitzwilliam and me.”

Ty gave her a considering look, then nodded. “All right. What can I bring?”

“Oh, nothing…”

“What about the wine?” Ty lifted a finger when she would have argued. “They’ll see it as a couple thing, as us inviting them, so you have to let me help, either with the cooking or with the set-up or with the supplies.” He arched a brow. “Or with everything.”

“Can you cook?”

“I follow directions well…”

“You do not!”

He chuckled. “I do some basic cooking.”

Amy smiled and leaned over the table. “I’ll be making pasta.”

“From scratch?”

“It’s the only way.”

“Now I’m impressed. Making pasta is way out of my league, though.”

“Once you’ve had it this way, you’ll never be happy with the dried stuff,” Amy said.

“No, I have a feeling there’s no going back,” Ty murmured and she glanced up at him. His eyes were twinkling and she had the definite sense he wasn’t talking about food. “You have a preference for the wine?”

“There’s a red table wine that my parents liked…”

* * *

Ty enjoyed watching Amy as she talked. She was more animated than when he’d first met her and he liked to think he’d played a part in that. She trusted him, and she was becoming more confident in herself.

And today, triumphant in getting the financing she needed and planning a party, she was glowing. Ty was captivated.

“You never quite get around to telling me about your family. Is your cousin that scary?” he teased, wondering if there was something more serious at root.

“She has got a Bridezilla thing going on.”

“Ouch.”

Amy wrinkled her nose and put down her sandwich. “The thing is that my parents were estranged from my dad’s family all my life.”

“Because your dad married your mom.”

“Not just that. I guess my dad didn’t follow his parents’ plan for him. My grandfather was an electrician and he started a business that he wanted to pass down. It’s still pretty successful. They do work for the trade, but also have a consumer side.”

“That’s where your aunt works?”

“Yes, she runs the lighting stores. My cousin took some interior design classes, then started to work for Aunt Natalie a few years ago.”

“And your dad?”

“He was the only son, and the oldest, but he didn’t want to be an electrician or take over the business. He went to college and became a high school English teacher. He wrote poetry.”

“Ah, a free spirit.”

“In a way, he was.” She smiled with obvious affection. “He always said that people should follow their dreams and make themselves happy first.”

“Good advice,” Ty said, glad that Amy was writing her book. “Are you doing that?” he asked gently.

“I wasn’t,” she admitted. “But I am now.” She hesitated, adorably uncertain. “I didn’t tell you before,” she admitted in a rush. “But I’m writing a book.”

“Really?” Ty was ridiculously pleased that she’d confided in him. “Should I ask what genre?”

Amy laughed. “You can guess.”

“You suggested a different ending for that one book.”

“And Jade practically dared me to write it. I decided to write another story, though, one that’s all my own idea. She’s reading it as I go.”

“Going well?”

“She likes it so far.” She bit her lip. “Would you read it when it’s done?”

Ty was jubilant that she’d trust him with her book. “I’m not as familiar with the genre as Jade.”

“But you understand stories and books. You can tell me if the structure is good, and the pacing.” She sighed. “I would ask my dad to do that if he was here.”

“Even in this genre?”

Amy smiled. “When my dad caught me reading Anaïs Nin, he told me to be sure I read Henry Miller, too. He showed me where to find Tropic of Cancer in his library.”

“And you were how old?”

“Fourteen.” Ty knew his surprise showed because Amy laughed at him. “My dad believed that a good book was a good book, regardless of genre.”

“He was right.”

“Would you?”

“I’d be honored,” Ty said and meant it.

“Well, you can’t see it until it’s done.”

“Fair enough.”

“So, back to my family,” she said and he sensed her relief. “My dad’s parents weren’t pleased with his choice, I gather, and they were less pleased when he met my mom. She’d just arrived from Italy and he taught a class at the school for people learning English as a second language.” Amy smiled. “He always said it only took one look for him to fall hard.”

Ty understood that well enough.

“And your mom?”

“She called it colpo di fulmine.” Ty knew he looked blank. Amy smiled. “Love at first sight.”

“It sounds better in Italian.”

“Most things about love and romance do.”

“So, she taught you Italian?”

Amy nodded. “But I haven’t spoken it since she died. Those actually were the first Italian words I’ve said in years.” She looked a little sad but took a steadying breath and smiled at Ty. “I always thought I’d speak it again when I fell in love.”

“And teach your kids.”

She nodded and he pretended not to have noticed that she swept away a tear.

“What about your mom’s family?”

“She didn’t have any left. Her brother had been killed in an accident and her dad died of grief. Her mom didn’t survive long afterward. My mom decided to start fresh in a new place and moved here by herself.”

“That’s a bold move.”

“I know.” He watched pride fill Amy’s expression and his chest tightened. “She was fearless. I can’t even imagine getting on a plane with five hundred dollars, the clothes on my back and my wits, but she did it.”

“And you said she was a dressmaker?”

“She did beautiful work and she understood how to make people look their best. My dad was so proud of how quickly she built up a business.”

“And she married him.”

Amy shook a finger at him. “Not so quickly as that! Her mom had been completely reliant upon her husband for everything, and as much as she loved them, my mom said a woman had to have her own resources, her own skills, and her own money. She wanted to be independent, even though she loved my dad from the first, too.”

“She wanted to establish her own financial footing.”

Amy nodded, then she sighed. “They’d known each other seven years by the time they got married. I wonder if they’d have married sooner if they’d known what was ahead of them.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It sounds as if they were a couple even before they were married.” Ty shrugged. “Sometimes a marriage certificate is just a piece of paper.”

Amy gave him a considering look. “I thought you’d be all for tradition.”

“I’m all for true love conquering all obstacles. The legal details are less important than the love and trust of two people being together who are right for each other.”

“I think you might be right.” Her smile turned mischievous. “My mother was pregnant at the wedding.”

“With you?”

“With me. At any rate, I understand there was a big fight when they got married and no one from my dad’s family attended. They were complete strangers to me until about a year ago.”

Ty thought it was pretty harsh that her father’s family hadn’t even reconciled with him before his death, never mind that they’d never helped Amy with the burden of care, but she had become quiet and he wanted to coax her smile.

There was no point in dwelling on the past. “So, walk me through the family tree. Your dad was oldest and the only boy.”

“Right. He has three younger sisters: Pauline, who is divorced from Craig, Natalie, who is married to Tom who runs the family business now, and Sara, married to Daniel.”

“The bride-to-be, Brittany, is Natalie and Tom’s oldest?”

“She’s their only child, and just between you and me, she’s a bit spoiled.”

“I would never have guessed,” Ty murmured and Amy smiled.

“Pauline has a daughter and two sons, all of whom are married with children. Rachel married Duane, who works for Tom, Jake married Kirsten, and Mike married Marie most recently. I can’t keep the kids straight, although I have it all written down. Sara had two boys: Andrew and Thomas are just a little younger than me. Andrew just got his certification as an electrician and Thomas is still serving his apprenticeship.”

“Everyone into the family business.”

“Seems like it.”

“And the groom?”

“Nick. His dad’s a real estate developer.”

“Sounds like a corporate merger.”

“My aunt and uncle are pleased with the marriage.” Amy shrugged. “I get the impression that Nick’s parents aren’t so thrilled.”

“Why?”

Amy lifted her hands. “The seating plans were a nightmare. Aunt Natalie and Nick’s mom had all these lists of who should sit with whom.”

“And a lot of the choices were mutually exclusive?”

Amy nodded wearily. “I was trying to negotiate compromises, then they both started to call the venue independently to force their changes.”

“You had to go and sort it out, I’ll guess.” Ty felt that simmer begin, the one he felt whenever Amy talked about her family.

“I had to go and keep the venue from chucking their deposit money back at them. One wedding isn’t supposed to be a full-time job for their catering manager.” She took a deep breath. “To be honest, I’m kind of expecting someone to explode at the wedding.”

Ty was glad he’d be there. Amy might need a defender. He’d guess that if anything went wrong, they’d blame her. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure you did a great job organizing it all.”

“And they’ll undo it,” she said, proving that their expectations were shared. “Just watch.”

“But, we will have a fabulous garden party on Sunday, in your mom’s tradition,” Ty said, raising a finger.

Amy’s smile was brilliant and immediate. “We will!”

“Let me call Derek and Paige. You have more than enough to do.”

“Thank you.” She reached out quickly and touched his hand. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

“Heartless,” he murmured with a shake of his head. “Here I was planning on a great dinner tonight with the best company, and I’ll be eating alone.”

“I’ll make it up to you on Sunday,” Amy promised.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Ty vowed, and she laughed before she hurried back to work.

She thought he was just teasing, but Ty was serious. He was disappointed about dinner, and he was even more disappointed that he wouldn’t see Amy again until Sunday. Who would have thought that she would have such a hold on him in such a short time?

It must be love.

He could have been glad about that, if it hadn’t been for Matteo.

What was he going to do about that loser?

* * *

Kyle leaned against the wall in his office as his mom scolded him yet again. It was Friday night at F5 and he had a party in the club to heat up.

Instead, he’d been caught by his mother, whose calls he’d been ducking on his cell phone. She knew him well enough to know where to find him on Friday night.

And Cassie was merciless. She hadn’t covered for him at all.

This was what friends were for.

“Your brother is five years younger than you, but he’s married with a son and another baby on the way,” his mom said for the hundredth time that month. “My younger sisters have three grandchildren each. Kyle, I want to have grandchildren while I can enjoy them.”

“Enjoy Dave’s kids.”

“I do! But it’s not just about me. It’s about you, honey. You need to have someone in your life…”

“Mom, I’ll let you know when I meet the right woman.”

“I know, honey, but I’m not at all sure that you’re doing anything about meeting women. Every time I talk to you, you’re at work…”

“It’s a gym, Mom. It’s full of women.” Kyle admired a woman walking past him on her way to yoga class. She cast him a flirtatious smile and he smiled back at her, enjoying the view until she was out of sight.

“But maybe the right kind of women aren’t interested in a fitness instructor. Maybe you need a better job, honey. I mean, this was all fine when you were younger, but women might not find it enticing. I don’t want to insult you, Kyle, but women have to be practical. If they’re going to have children and stay home with them, they need a man who can provide for them…”

“Mom, there are so many assumptions tied up in that sentence, that I don’t even know where to start.”

“Assumptions?”

Kyle winced at his mom’s tone.

Now he’d done it.

“How is it an assumption that the woman you love and marry will want to have children, or that you’ll have lots of children, or that she would naturally want to spend their formative years with them?”

“Well, there’s three assumptions right there, Mom.”

“If you mean that fertility might become an issue when a woman is over thirty, then you’re right, honey, and that’s all the more reason to get serious about finding a wife and partner…”

“Mom, I’ve got to go and teach a class.”

“Liar,” Cassie mouthed as she passed his office door.

Kyle made a face at her and she grinned.

“Well, think about it, Kyle. I picked up some brochures at the local college about skills improvement that I think might be interesting to you…”

“I make enough money, Mom.”

“Enough money for you is not the same as enough money to support a family, Kyle. Trust me. I know!”

His mother had no idea how much money Kyle made and he wasn’t going to tell her. California wasn’t nearly so far away that she couldn’t inflict herself on him with short notice and try to fix his social life.

“Class, Mom. Gotta go.”

“And that’s another thing. You really need to start thinking about your own health, honey. All this exercise seems excessive at your age…”

“Bye, Mom!”

Kyle ended the call, feeling just as annoyed as he had after every single phone call he’d had with his mother in the past ten years. He exhaled steadily and slowly, using some of the Tantric breathing exercises he taught to calm himself down.

“When are you getting married, honey?” Cassie taunted, interrupting his thoughts with her perfect imitation of his mother. She put a new flyer design on his desk for consideration. “You’re not getting any younger.”

“That’s what I hear,” Kyle said. “She thinks I need to make more money to improve my appeal to women.”

Cassie laughed so hard that a tear worked its way free. “Poor Kyle. Slumming in the big city for minimum wage when you could retrain to be a”—she cast around for a suitable occupation for him—“a licensed plumber!”

“Did you see the bills from the trades? Don’t under-estimate their earning power.”

“I just can’t imagine you getting mucky. It might mess up your hair.”

Kyle laughed despite himself. “She never gives it up.”

“She probably wants grandchildren. Mine does.”

“She has grandchildren. Dave is working that angle.”

“Mine doesn’t,” Cassie said with a sigh.

Kyle remembered that Cassie was an only child and felt bad for complaining. “What do you tell her anyway?”

“About what?”

“Your job.”

“I work in a private gym, teaching exercise classes for executives.”

“Well, that’s kind of true. It’s pretty much what I say, but she acts like I’m still teaching summer lifeguard classes at the Y.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t do that for the money.”

“I would have paid them.” Kyle put a fist over his heart. “Teaching mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to a dozen cute girls at a time. Those were the days.”

Cassie laughed again. “Funny how things don’t change, isn’t it?”

Damon paused in the hall and glanced into Kyle’s office. He was bare-chested with a towel slung around his neck. “Is the joke good enough to share?”

“We’re whining about our mothers,” Cassie said and Damon’s mouth tightened. “What do you tell yours?”

“About what?” Damon was always hard to read, but he seemed a particularly wary to Kyle.

“About love and romance, marriage, and grandbabies,” he said, turning it into a joke.

“I told her years ago that I was gay.”

Kyle was astonished.

“No!” Cassie protested in shock. “Who would believe that?”

“My mom, evidently,” Damon said.

“Seriously?” Kyle asked. “You let even your mom think that?”

“Well, she was halfway there. She had some magazine with an article ‘is your son gay?’ and she’d left it out on the coffee table. The quiet type with few friends in school was one of the possibilities.” Damon shrugged. “I just went with it. It seemed easiest.”

Kyle shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t think it’s worth it. I don’t think I could tell anyone that I was gay.”

Cassie rolled her eyes at that.

“She doesn’t ask about grandbabies anymore,” Damon said. “And nobody in my family fixes me up.”

“Not without advantages,” Cassie said. “The people they pick when they fix me up.” She shook her head. “It’s scary sometimes.”

“Deeply scary,” Damon agreed. “I was motivated to find another solution.”

If Kyle went home at Christmas without bringing a date, they’d all move into action. “What was the name of that magazine again?” he asked, already thinking of working through the holidays.

Cassie and Damon cracked up.

“You’d better get to the club,” Cassie said to Kyle. “The music isn’t nearly loud enough yet.”

“Are you coming?” Kyle asked Damon, who shook his head. “You never come to the club on Fridays. What’s the deal?”

“I’ve got a date,” Damon said, his manner secretive.

“Who would date you?” Kyle said, razzing him the way he always did. “You always say you have a date on Friday night and I think it’s crap. You’re just leaving all the work to me.”

“All the work you want,” Cassie noted.

“Jealous?” Damon teased.

“No, skeptical. You probably just say that because it gets you out of working a weekend shift, leaving more for me to do.”

“You are jealous,” Damon replied, then taunted Kyle. “Her name’s Natasha and she’s a dancer. She has legs…”

“That’s why you know endearments in Russian!” Cassie said.

“You’re going to have to tell your mom about Natasha, though, right?” Kyle asked. “Isn’t that going to blow your perfect cover story?”

His partner turned away. “Maybe, maybe not. We’ll see.”

“I’m surprised Damon has to explain to you that it’s not always about marriage,” Cassie said.

“Well, it isn’t for me. I thought Damon played by different rules, though.”

“Just proves you can’t know all of anyone’s secrets,” Cassie said lightly and left Kyle wondering what his buddy wasn’t telling him. He’d bet good money that there was something unusual about this Natasha story.

Kyle was headed to the club when he passed Ty, who was coming home. Ty was slinging a briefcase and looked a bit defeated. His tie was even loosened. Kyle stopped to look, interested in the change, and Ty pointed a finger at him.

“You. Owe. Me.” He bit off the words one at a time.

Kyle grinned. “Did you finally get caught about Giselle?”

“Not in the way you think. But now there’s the fake date with Amy that I want to be real, and there’s Matteo.” Ty winced and Kyle laughed out loud at his expression. “It’s what my parents always said. One lie leads to another. It’s a great big slippery slope leading to nowhere good…”

Kyle tapped his buddy on the chest, interrupting him. “Tell her the truth.”

“She’ll hate me.”

“Maybe for a while.” Kyle winked. “Maybe not if you beg for mercy.”

Ty seemed to be considering that possibility. “I should never have listened to you in the first place.”

“It was the tequila.”

“Also a bad idea, and also, as I remember, your idea.” Ty made a sound of frustration that sounded like a growl. “The only mercy is that you stayed away from my sisters.”

Kyle left that one alone. “But you did listen, and now the truth is the only thing that can save you.”

“Which again, would be advice from you.” Ty shoved a hand through his hair and Kyle knew his friend had it badly.

Of course, he’d known that in the Saturday class.

No, he’d known it when Ty had gotten all hot under the collar about this Amy taking the Saturday class, so bothered that he’d actually agreed to participate. Kyle had always thought that when Ty wanted something, he was fierce in its pursuit, and he’d seen that Ty wanted Amy in spades.

The pair of them had nearly melted the yoga mats.

“Beg for mercy,” Kyle said, patting Ty on the shoulder. “Trust me. She won’t be able to resist you.”

Ty gave him a searing look, just as he anticipated. “I should be so lucky.”

“You might.” Kyle left Ty standing there, and whistled I Miss the Rain in Africa on his way to the club. He heard Ty growl in frustration and laughed, his good mood restored again.

Marriage. As if. His mother had been the one to teach him that “forever” didn’t last and Kyle had taken the lesson to heart.