The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

“Do you mind, Joey?” She asked.

Joey glared at Soren Michaelson. “I’ll allow it. But don’t get your hopes up, buddy. I’ve staked my claim.”

Soren grinned. “I respect that.”

“Hmm.” Joey cut me a look. “You want to dance with this guy?”

It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, holding in my laughter. “If you’re okay with it, Joey?”

“Sure. Mom says I shouldn’t monopolize your time.”

“Will you dance with me?” Bailey held out her hand to him. “I am the bride.”

“Yeah, so you’re already claimed.”

“Come dance with me, Joe-Joe.” He took her hand. “While we dance, Aunt Bailey will explain to you how girls aren’t something you can just claim like a ball from the lost-and-found. Mmm’kay?”

Soren chuckled. “He’s a character, huh?”

I nodded. “He’s wonderful.”

“Dance?” He held out his hand.

Seconds later, I was in this stranger’s arms, still smiling about Joey.

“You can’t blame the kid,” Soren teased, eyes dancing over my face. “He has great taste.”

My cheeks heated. “Thank you.”

“So”—Soren swayed us a little more, his hand tightening on my back—“things I already know about Emery Saunders: Vaughn is protective of you.”

My eyes flew to his. “How do you know that?”

His lips twitched. “Because he threatened to castrate me if I, and I quote, ‘didn’t treat Emery with the respect and manners a lady deserves and attempted any funny business with her.’”

Vaughn said that?

Soren’s amusement grew at my shock. “He obviously cares about you, and it takes a lot to make an impression on Vaughn, so I’m already intrigued. I also know you run your own business, you have men falling in love with you before they’re even in high school, and you are the most beautiful woman in this room.”

A person could roast marshmallows on my cheeks, I grew so uncomfortable with his flattery. “And you do not know how to take a

compliment.” He laughed and drew me closer until my chest brushed his.

Before I could respond, a shadow fell over us.

“Can I cut in?”

Jack.

We stopped dancing under the scowling façade of the father of my unborn child. The father who still didn’t know. The father who had promised he’d avoid me tonight. The father who was glaring at Soren Michaelson like he wanted to rip off his head.

And because I did not want to cause a scene at Bailey’s wedding, I murmured, “Of course.”

Disappointment clouded Soren’s expression. His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Later?” he asked me.

As nice as that sounded, as much as I’d love the opportunity to find someone who could drive Jack Devlin out of my heart, I was not on the market for a relationship.

Other than the mother-child kind.