Every Sweet Regret (Orchid Valley 2)

She glances down, and her tongue swipes a bead of moisture from her bottom lip. “Just say the word.”

“Tempting.”

“Kace!” Amy calls from the porch. “Come here for a minute?”

When I look back to Stella, her smile’s fallen away. “Go ahead,” she says. “I won’t keep you.”

“I want to talk more about this later,” I say, and honestly, I have no idea why I’m making a promise like that, but I know I intend to keep it.

I head to the shade of the porch, where Amy’s waiting.

“It’s a great party,” she says as I climb the steps. She scans the yard and the guests scattered about. “Even Hopey’s having fun.”

Across the yard, my four-year-old’s white-blond hair flies out of her tiny pigtails as she races her friend Cami across the yard. I love seeing Hope this happy. When Amy told me she was moving out, I was convinced our divorce would mean years of heartache for our daughter. In reality, she adjusted quickly. The first night Amy wasn’t home, Hope asked if Mommy was going to tuck her in, and I felt like I was behind the wheel of a car flying off a cliff. I swallowed and reminded her that Mommy was staying in her new house. I thought my daughter would cry and ask me why I couldn’t keep her mommy happy (hello, projecting). Instead, she smiled and said, “Oh yeah! I get to go there tomorrow. Mommy’s making my room a princess palace.” And that was that.

“You always knew how to throw the best parties,” Amy says, pulling my attention back to her.

My chest warms at the fondness in her tone. Amy and I met at one of my parties. The chemistry was instant, and our lives clicked together so seamlessly that I believed we were just meant to be. “Some of my best memories are of throwing them with you,” I confess, but then discomfort warps her features, and I regret the words. “Sorry.”

“Have you used the app yet?” she asks, and I grimace. “How did I guess? Come on, Kace. You need some sexy fun in your life.”

I shrug. “I’m not sure it’s my thing.” I haven’t even looked to see who she connected me with. I’ll probably delete it before I’m desperate enough to find out.

“How will you know if you don’t try?” Sighing, she shakes her head. “Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for inviting me over.”

Sorrow tugs through my chest at the sight of her smile. It reminds me of the girl I fell in love with. The one I proposed to in New York and made love to on the beach in Mexico. Sometimes I can’t decide what’s worse—how much I miss Amy, or my grief over the life I thought we’d have. But honestly? We lost that life long before she moved out. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course. I want us to be friends, Kace.” She wriggles her brows. “But now I’ll get out of here so you can enjoy the rest of your party kid-free. Cut loose. Have fun. Use the app.”

I laugh. What does she want me to do? Leave my own party to hook up with some stranger? Honestly, these friends are like family, and I could leave if I needed to. But this is where I want to be. “We’ll see.”

“Hope,” Amy calls across the yard. “We need to go, baby. We have to get ready for Tyson’s birthday party.”

Hope wraps her little arms around Cami’s waist, squeezing the ten-year-old tight before charging toward the deck. She barrels into me and hugs my legs. “Gotta go. Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you too, Snickerdoodle. I’ll see you Monday after school.”

Amy ruffles Hope’s hair. “Grab your bag and meet me at the car.” She waits until Hope’s inside before turning back to me. “See you later, Kace.”

“Later.” I return her smile, then watch her walk away. After a year, it’s getting easier, that sight, the reminder that I’ll be sleeping alone, that there will be no one there for me to bring coffee to in the morning or to share a drink with after we put Hope to bed.

When the gate swings closed behind her, I turn back to the party. Amy thinks I need to get laid, and she might be onto something.

It takes my eyes less than five seconds to lock on Stella again. Stella, who catches me staring, pulls her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and winks. Stella, who’s the embodiment of sexy fun.

Her attention shifts back to her phone, and then mine buzzes in my back pocket. My blood hums with anticipation as I pull it out to see what she’s texted.

Stella: You gonna put that lotion on me or let me burn?Rub lotion on Stella? So. Fucking. Tempting. But I already know how this conversation will go. We’ll do that thing we do where she tells me how hot she thinks I am and assumes I don’t feel the same about her, and I’ll be the nice guy who won’t take advantage of a woman he cares about. Attraction has never been my issue with Stella. Not even when I was in college and she was the high school senior who decided to crawl into my bed. I told myself that touching my buddy’s younger sister was screwed up and put the brakes on that moment, but I’d be lying if I said it was easy. Or that it’s easy to pretend her nonstop innuendos do nothing for me.