One Last Time(92)

Kristin rolls her eyes. “Sure, it was all you, stud. I lured you in with my adorable awkwardness, gave you mind-blowing sex, and I have the ultimate weapon.”

I chuckle silently. “What’s that?”

“Noah!” Aubrey yells from the back of the house. “You forgot one!”

She takes my face in her hands and grins. “Her.”

I laugh against her lips and give her a searing kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, go feed the animals before I find myself a new man who can keep up.”

“I’ll give you keep up.” I start to lean back toward her, but Aubrey makes her appearance.

“No-ah!” She says each syllable separately. “They could die. They need to eat.”

The laughter from the couch doesn’t go unnoticed. She’s really helping me here. I look to Aubrey, and her eyes go big again, just like with the damn cookies. What is it with little girls? Do they have some kind of magical powers? It’s witchcraft or something because here I am, taking her hand and letting her lead me away so I can feed her stuffed animals so they don’t die.

“Have fun!” Kristin says as she leans her chin on the top of the couch.

“We will later, sweetheart. Mark my words.”

“I’m counting on it.” Kristin smiles, and I start to think of anything other than her naked beneath me.

Aubrey looks at me with a huge grin. “I bet the animals would loooove some cookies.”

I let out a loud laugh and snuggle her. “Do you promise to eat your dinner and not tell your mom?”

She nods.

I’m so going to pay for this.





Chapter Thirty-Seven





Kristin





Eight Months Later


“I can’t believe we’re packing you again,” Nicole grumbles as she stacks the box she closed on top of another one.

“And again, you’re acting like you’ve done anything of value,” I toss at her.

The construction starts in three days, and I’ve procrastinated long enough. I can’t screw around anymore. Plus, Noah will be home tomorrow and he thinks I’ve already done it.

Oops.

“Feed me.” She lies on the floor. “I’m dying.”

She’s worse than Aubrey. “Get up or you’re going to wish you were dead.”

Danielle comes out from the bedroom, looks at Nicole, and drops the box close to her head.

“Bitch!” Nicole snaps. “I almost had a heart attack. One inch over, and you’d be paying for my plastic surgery.”

“You got up, mission accomplished,” Danni smirks.

“I miss Heather,” I say, feeling a little wistful. “She should’ve come home for this.”

She was home last month to sign the deed over to me. I officially own this house . . . with Noah.

We didn’t want to move the kids again since they’re settled in, and Heather was beyond happy when we approached her. I think she enjoys knowing another family is going to raise their kids in the house that means everything to her.

Or she’s just tired of the things that need to be fixed and likes that it’s now my problem.

Noah was adamant that if we were staying, we were going to make it ours. So, on one of his long weekends home from France, he did what he does best and hired a freaking crew to dismantle my life.

My phone rings, and my assistant’s number flashes. “Hi, Erica,” I say with the phone to my shoulder.

“Kristin! It’s like a disaster here. I don’t know what to do. You were supposed to come in today, and you didn’t. I’ve got four phones ringing and the spread is all wrong. It’s just wrong, I need you to fix it. Fix it.”

Oh, Erica . . . why did I ever think this was a good idea?

“Take a deep breath. It’s going to be fine. I looked over the spread yesterday and made an adjustment. The magazine is going to be perfect,” I say in a calm tone.

She’s always freaking out. This is our second circulation, and we managed just fine with the first one. You’d think it was her virginal prom night with the way she goes nuts. Now, I get why she had a meditation room, the chick is always needing to do some deep breathing.

“Okay. Sure. Yes. I’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. I’m going to get my boxed water, have myself a nice bike ride, and pray to the ocean tonight.”

I pretend as if she didn’t say any of that.

“Sounds fun, honey. I’m sure the ocean will love that you’re asking for its help. I’m working now, good luck.”

I stand, scratching my head and wondering what I was drinking when I brought her with me to the magazine. I was drunk. I had to be.

And what the hell is boxed water? Boxed? Water comes in a bottle, but this is Erica, and I’ve learned to ask fewer questions.

“Everything all right?” Danni asks.

There’s only one word to describe it. “Erica.”

My friends love her in theory. She’s been beside me, defending me, and being my biggest champion from the moment we first talked. But even if Noah didn’t destroy me personally and professionally—I was done. Catherine explained that she had to discredit the article, which in turn made Celebaholic and me look shoddy.