Tanner’s face warmed. “You should have called. I still have your spare. I would have swung by and given it to you.”

I literally could not form a single sentence as I flipped my gaze between the two of them, trying to make sense of the obvious.

Charlotte did not share this problem. “Are you two seeing each other?”

Rita’s thick, black lashes batted innocently over her green eyes as she spoke out of the side of her mouth. “You aren’t the only woman who landed a hot new man. We really need a wine night to catch up.”

“I saw you an hour ago!” Charlotte exclaimed. “And literally every day this week. Why do we need a wine night for you to tell me you’re dating Sloth?”

Tanner turned to me. “She’s kidding about the Sloth thing, right? I seriously can’t read her.”

I backhanded his shoulder. “Please, God, tell me you are not sleeping with Rita! Her husband is Travis’s doctor!”

Rita scoffed. “I am not married.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Tanner said. “I talked to my attorney today. He received the signed divorce papers back from Greg.”

I hit him again. “Your attorney is handling her divorce?”

Rita pursed her lips, stared dreamily at my womanizer brother, and clutched her imaginary pearls. “Thanks, honey. I really appreciate you taking care of that.” She then said to Charlotte in a sugary-sweet tone that couldn’t possibly be real—yet I somehow thought it was, “Do you guys mind if we do a little switch-a-roo on the seats so I can sit next to my guy?”

“Good idea,” Tanner said as he climbed out of the booth, presumably to let me out.

But neither Charlotte nor I budged.

We just sat there.

Blinking.

Staring.

Waiting for the punch line.

What in the utter fuck was going on?

Rita plastered her front to Tanner’s side.

He draped an arm around her and watched me expectantly. “You gonna get out of there or what?”

“Not until you tell—” The words died on my tongue when an idea struck me like a bolt of lightning. Sliding to my feet, I called, “Charlotte, can I have a word with you?”

She tore her accusing glare from Rita and asked, “Now?”

“Yes. In private.” I offered her a tight smile and flared my eyes in secret urgency.

She blinked but thankfully caught the hint and climbed out after me, leaving her purse on the bench.

“And bring your purse… I need…”—I glanced at Tanner as he sat down and pulled Rita down beside him—“ChapStick.”

“I don’t have any ChapStick,” she replied

“Oh, I do!” Rita exclaimed and then began digging through her bag.

Cupping Charlotte’s elbow, I moved close and chanted in a whisper, “Get your purse. Get your purse. Get your purse.”

Her back shot straight, but she followed my directions, mumbling, “You know what? I think I do have some.”

“We’ll be right back,” I told them, shuffling backward, bringing Charlotte with me.

“What are you doing?” she hissed as we hurried away.

“Give me your car keys.”

“What? Why? I thought you had to stay until closing.”

“Nope. An owner needs to be here until closing.” Peeking over my shoulder, I took one last glance to make sure Tanner wasn’t watching us before turning the corner toward the front door. “Sloth back there has his own set of keys to the restaurant, even if he does pretend that he doesn’t know how to use them.”

“We can’t leave now.” She threw on the brakes. “My best friend, who is on the rails after having her heart trampled on by one philandering man, just showed up with your famous brother, who I have to be honest, Porter, doesn’t look like Sloth at all. Like, not even a little bit, because I’m not completely convinced he’s a human being and not a Greek god. I mean, you’re sexy, Porter. But your brother—”

My mouth gaped open. “I’m standing right here!”

A slow smile curled her lips, and she winked. “I’m kidding. But seriously, he’s going to chew her up and spit her out.”

I cupped her face. “Probably. But all of that will still be the same tomorrow. If we can escape before Tanner realizes it, we can spend the next four hours doing whatever the hell we want. And, since we’ll be at your apartment and not my restaurant, clothing is not required.”

Her lips parted, and her eyes flashed dark. “Ohhhh.”

“Yeah. ‘Ohhhh.’ But we have to go now. I don’t have the energy to run a Ninja Warrior course against my brother to see which one of us is going to get laid tonight.”

She laughed. But only for a second, because a blink later, she grabbed my hand and took off at a dead sprint through the dining room and out the front doors.

When we got to her car, I banged my knees on the steering wheel as I folded in, but it was a small price to pay to hear Charlotte’s wild-child laugh as she jumped in on the other side.

“Go. Go. Go!” she yelled, pounding on the dashboard.

I peeled out of the parking spot, swiftly exiting the lot only to come to a screeching halt. A line of brake lights stretched out as far as I could see.

Welcome to Atlanta traffic.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” she deadpanned.

“Tell me about it.” Going nowhere fast, I sighed and turned the radio on and skipped through the stations until the sound of AC/DC filled the small car.

No sooner than I moved my hand from the radio, she turned it off.

“Hey!” I objected.

Her face was carefully blank as she said, “You can drive. You can even program the position of your seat into one of the memory thingies. But you are never allowed to play AC/DC in my car. Her engine would seize, the transmission would fall out, and her wheels would shoot off, ruining the lives of hundreds of innocent bystanders and sending her into an early grave at the junkyard.”

I held her stare. “Jesus. All that because of a little ‘Highway to Hell’?”

She shrugged and looked back at the windshield. “Betty White takes her music seriously.”

I bit my bottom lip, doing my best to stave a grin off. “Your car’s name is Betty White?”

She looked back and didn’t even crack a smile as she confirmed, “It was the obvious choice.”

I laughed, loud and long.

So long that Charlotte finally gave the straight face up and burst out laughing as well.

“Get over here,” I said, cupping the back of her neck and dragging her over the center console to plant a kiss on her sexy, sarcastic mouth.

Giggling, she pushed against my shoulder. “Porter, go. You’re holding up traffic.”

I kept her mouth against mine and blindly allowed the car to roll forward a few inches. “There. All caught up.”

She continued to laugh, and I continued to drink it in.

God. I loved being with her. It didn’t matter that we were sitting in standstill traffic, wasting precious minutes of the few hours we had alone. Toss my kids in the backseat and I’d have sat in that car with her for the rest of my life.

Releasing her, I righted myself in the driver’s seat and tried to ignore the heavy weight settling in my chest.

Would I ever have that?

This free-spirited version of my broken woman, smiling and laughing with Travis and Hannah, who were as much a part of me as my heart and my lungs?

It had only been a few weeks. I was probably putting the cart before the horse. Even if she adored kids, I wouldn’t have introduced them to her yet. Or, more accurately, her to them. It wasn’t like I was divorced and dating again. My kids didn’t have a mother. I could only imagine the hearts in Hannah’s eyes if there was suddenly a woman in her life, doing all the things a mother should do with her daughter. The last thing I needed was them getting attached to a woman and then us falling apart.

Though, if the way my body hummed each time she aimed one of those secret smiles my way was any indication, I was getting pretty damn attached myself.

We hadn’t gotten a full mile from the restaurant before my phone started ringing. I glanced down, fully expecting it to be Tanner ready to cuss me out for taking off.




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