“But I want her to like you,” she says with the slightest pout.
I bend and drop a kiss on her lips and on my freckles.
“Do you like me?” I ask by her ear.
“I more than like you.” She turns her head to kiss my lips quickly. Too quickly for my taste. “I love you.”
“Then you’ll believe me when I say no one else’s opinion really matters, not even your mother’s.”
She nods, but a frown dents between her brows. I smooth it away with my thumb.
“I mean it, Ban. It would be great if your mom liked me the way she loves Zo, but we both know that won’t happen anytime soon.”
“Oh, also.” The frown is back. “Speaking of Zo . . .”
“Do we have to?”
“Jared, stop. He may be feeling well enough to come today.” She glances up at me through long lashes.
“Don’t even bother,” I tell her. “That batting eyelash trick doesn’t work on me.”
“I’m well aware that you are immune to my charms,” she says with a laugh, pulling out of my arms to walk ahead of me.
Her ass, though. That little sway of her rounded hips seduces me every time. The way that dress molds to the curve of her—
“Damn! You’re doing it!” I say, realizing the lashes don’t get me, but I fall for that ass every time.
She’s looking over her shoulder watching me watch her ass, mischief in her grin. I love that the woman who once asked if her ass was square feels confident enough in my love for her body exactly as she is to use that ass against me.
“You’re so easy, Foster, and you think you’re so hard.” She laughs and loops her arm through mine. “Now, like I was saying about Zo, I need you to be nice.”
I hate it when people need me to be nice because that means they know there’s a strong possibility someone will and could set me off. After the way Zo kept us apart for months and then pulled her onstage in front of the whole world with all that te amo shit, knowing about us . . .
“Maybe we’ll just avoid each other,” I offer. “There’s a lot of people here.”
“No, I need you to try.” She stops on the sidewalk leading up to the venue, her expression sobering. “You know what he means to me, and he knows what you mean to me. I want you both, at some point, to be okay with . . . each other.”
“I’ll try.” My voice is curt. I don’t mean to be, but just her saying “what he means to me” sets my teeth on edge.
“Thank you.” She huddles in closer to my side. “This is gonna be fun. It’s a really big deal. I remember my quinceañera. Such a special day for a girl.”
“That ceremony at the church was cool.”
“Yes, and now the real fun begins,” she says. “Lots of drinking. Good food. A delicious cake. Anna will have the first dance with my papa.”
“Sounds more like a wedding than a sweet . . . fifteen party.”
“It is a lot like a wedding.” She shoots me a knowing grin. “But it’s not, so don’t worry. I know how nervous weddings make single guys.”
“Weddings don’t make me nervous.” I capture her hand and bring it to my lips just as we reach the entrance. “And I’m not single.”
We share a long look, half questions, half unspoken answers, before her sister, Camilla, walks up to greet us.
“Everything is beautiful, Bannini,” Camilla says, accompanying us to the foyer. She drops her eyes to the floor and then looks at Banner directly. “Thank you for this place. Anna feels like a princess here.”
“She is a princess,” Banner replies, hugging her sister. “We’ll make sure she has all the things we never had and learns all the things we did.”
“Yeah. Still.” She gestures to the quaint villa where Anna’s reception is being held. “You didn’t have to.”