Perfect Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

I laugh.

“She keeps a low profile now. The rehab place is basically some resort in Cabo San Lucas. She might have some legal trouble since she left before her court date, but it should stop any future ruckus.”

“How do you know all of this?” Paige asks.

“Nick and I got into a spat last week. I felt jealous and looked her up—dumb, I know—expecting to find her disgustingly gorgeous and still pining away for him. I saw the latest rumors.”

Paige laughs. “What were you guys fighting over?”

“The nursery. I wanted to paint it pink. He thought I should wait until we know if the baby is a girl or a boy. I told him it didn’t matter, because my son will have an awesome eye for bright colors, just like his dad.”

She leans forward. “Do you guys know yet?”

“We’ll find out next month. But we settled on dark purple for the nursery.”

“Dark purple?”

I sigh. “He bought blue paint while I was sleeping. While he was working, I took it to the store and had equal parts pink mixed into it. It came out purple.”

“Nice! How’d that go over?” she asks.

I grin. “I had a spool of cotton candy. I shared it and told him I didn’t know what happened to the paint. He was actually pretty happy since purple’s a royal color, totally fit for a ’little prince’ or ’princess.’ His words.”

The fight also ended with clothes strewn across the room and us feeding each other cotton candy on the floor. But she doesn’t need to know that part.

“You guys are hilarious.” Her phone buzzes and she glances at it. “Ah, that’s Ward. They’re looking for us.”

We leap up and I push the door open and walk out.

Nick stands in the hall. “How you holding up? We’re past the morning sickness, right?”

The second I close the space between us, his arms are around me.

“I’m fine. We were just talking.”

He gives me that smirky smile that’s always brought me to my knees.

“I hate to steal you away from your own party, but I thought you might want to duck out early. I have a couple surprises of my own. Go have a piece of cake, make your rounds, and let’s escape.”

“You know me too well.”

I lean up on my toes to kiss him with all of my inner butterflies soaring.

* * *

Half an hour later, we’re in the Maserati.

“This is how it’s supposed to be,” he says quietly.

I glance over. “What?”

“Me driving you around.”

I laugh. “Whatever. If I were driving, we’d already be there. Where are we going, anyway?”

“That’s a secret. Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“A little. I mean, it’s almost the same job, driving the same people. But now if I hit the brakes too hard, it’s my liability.” I laugh, but I’m only partly joking.

It’s a scary thought. So is the mountain of business plans waiting, managing people, dealing with insurance...gah.

“Your billionaire boyfriend is always standing by to help,” he says with a wink that makes me tingle.

“Ah-ha, I knew I kept him around for a reason.”

“Brat,” he says, but his eyes are smiling.

“Only because you’re a bigger one,” I tell him.

He pulls into a park with a chuckle.

“I wish you’d mentioned this surprise. I would’ve brought another pair of shoes.” I wore a dress and heels today for the party.

“You’re perfect.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to trudge over grass in three-inch heels.” I get out of the car and notice a truck selling bags of my new addiction (besides Nick).

The first time I ate cotton candy, it tasted like yarn dipped in sugar glaze.

Now, it’s delicious, and even better with barbecue chips.

If I had a tail, I’d be wagging it as we walk toward the truck.

“Where are you going? We have to go to the bridge,” Nick says cryptically.

“Just a minute.”

“Reese, your surprise—”

“Candy.”

“Sweetheart, we have to—”

“Nick, what is going on?” I squint at him. He’s so weird today.

“Nothing. If it helps speed this up, I’ll hire the candy man to make home deliveries.”

“Don’t you dare!” I punch him playfully in the arm.

Of course, I’m laughing my head off.

Once I have my precious sugar rush in hand, Nick takes my arm and leads me off to—wherever it is he wants us to go. I’m taking in the pretty summer scenery when a small voice rings out.

“Auntie!” A familiar small voice.

“Whoa. That sounded like Millie.” I spin around, eyes searching.

“You’re hearing things. Hopefully they’ll be back soon.” Nick smiles.

“Right.” My gut squeezes.

Abby and Millie are safe, and I’ll see them again one day. That’s all that matters. It’s just horrible not knowing when.

“Auntie Reese!” Again, that voice—that hallucination?—it stops me in my tracks.

“Holy crap. That’s definitely Millie and she’s getting louder.” I turn frantically, calling, “Where are you, bumblebee?”

Two chubby arms crash into my leg before I know what’s happening.