She gave me the side eye, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward.
Holt put a protective arm around his girl’s shoulders. “Find your own woman.”
“I could use some pointers on finding a roommate like you did.” I winked, a dreadful habit I’d picked up from those Dixon men.
The back of my neck tingled.
I straightened.
Baker’s eyes cut around me, and Holt smirked.
“Why are you here?” That icy voice sent a bolt of irritation straight to my dick.
I turned. The reception didn’t get any warmer. I fashioned a fake smile on my face. “Well, hello, Wicked. I see you’ve decided to take your broom out for a spin to the city.”
“It was too much to hope one of your lovely clients had made you disappear.”
Trish gasped behind me. Marlow moved to her chair and sat as if she’d said nothing wrong. The only open seat was beside her.
“I see you’ve been spending more time with your mother.”
The server brought a bottle of champagne and appetizers.
I leaned over to her ear. “You want to take a shot, aim them at me. Not innocent people,” I hissed, flicking my gaze over to Trish.
She went rigid. Remorse didn’t even register on her face. “It was aimed at you.”
“Don’t inflict your misery on your family.”
Trish passed both of us a glass of bubbles.
Once everyone had a flute, Holt lifted his. “Baker has something she wants to tell you.”
She flushed as Holt kissed the side of her head. “We’re getting married.”
“Are you stupid?” Glasses halted mid-lift to mouth. “They don’t even know each other,” Marlow said, draining her champagne.
“I suppose Trish and I don’t either?” Andrew looked ready to spit nails.
“No. But you’ve already made the mistake.” She snorted. “Dad and I know all about the perils of marriage.”
Mr. Dixon paled.
Mrs. Quinn touched his thigh in support. “I’m familiar with them as well. That doesn’t mean all of them go wrong.”
“Mine died.” Marlow reached for the champagne and refilled her glass.
“As did mine.”
She jerked her gaze to Mrs. Quinn. Of course the wicked one thought she was the only person to have loved and lost.
Marlow unrolled her silverware. “Stop looking at me like that. What’s wrong with me watching out for my little brothers?”
“Is that what you call this?” I polished off my champagne, grabbed the bottle, and tipped some in my mouth before I passed it to Baker. “When’s the big day?”
She took a swig of her own. “Don’t know. He already got the marriage license.”
I captured her left hand. “Where’s the ring?”
Holt cut his eyes over to me. I got the thanks a lot, asshole message loud and clear.
“It’s over on West 16th Street.” Baker held out the champagne to Holt.
“Am I missing something?”
“That’s where his new garage is,” Andrew volunteered. “He gave her that as a ring.”
“You knew about this?” Trish smacked him in the arm.
“Bright Side, I did the paperwork. You would’ve told her.” He motioned toward Baker, who nodded smugly.
“I hope we can come whenever you decide on a date,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Or at least let us have a reception.”
Marlow made a disgruntled noise, and I kicked her foot.
“How!”
Blake got me every time with that. Sure, it was annoying after a few hours of the word on repeat, but it was still cute.
I stood and scooped him out of his carrier. “How.” I nuzzled his nose.
“He was fine where he was.” Marlow glared as I settled her son in my arms.
“Let’s take a poll. The final decision is mine and Baker’s, but we’ll take the input.” Holt slung an arm on the back of Baker’s chair.
Ella released a blood curdling scream. The rest of the restaurant went quiet, but we continued like nothing had happened.
“Does that mean she wants to participate or is against the idea?” I asked Trish.
She grinned. “Participate. Definitely participate.”
“Well, little lady. If your sister came to you for a job, would you give it to her?” Holt directed the question at Trish’s daughter.
“Is she like your sister?” I asked, rocking Blake. “The answer would be a resounding no.”
Mr. Dixon shifted in his seat, his attention on Marlow. “Are you trying to make peace or stir up trouble?”
“You know what? Forget it.” Her chair screeched across the floor as she stood. She held out her hands for Blake.
“Sit down,” I said. “They think I’m the one who has to be the center of attention, but it’s all you, Wicked.”
“Go to hell.”
“I went by your house, but you weren’t home.”
She gripped the back of her chair and glared at Holt. “If you didn’t want my help, you could’ve just said so.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust you.”
“You’ve wreaked havoc for months and then you show up out of nowhere and do your version of nice. Which isn’t, by the way,” Baker said. “We’re starting a new business, a life together. One you’ve made clear you don’t approve of. Neither of us have room for negativity. So if that’s all you’ve got, you can keep it.”
What would it be like to have a woman like that? That had your back. Would tell your sister off if she was wrong. I’d never know, that was for sure.
“Give me my child.” Marlow shook her arms, her expression that she meant business.
Blake gripped the lapel of my suit.
“You’re not ready to go are you, how now?” We grinned at each other, though I hoped I didn’t have the same string of saliva connecting my mouth and shirt like he did.
“Let me keep him. I haven’t seen my grandson in weeks.” Mr. Dixon fixed his daughter with a stare I wouldn’t argue with. But this was Marlow we were talking about.
“Some other time.” She picked up her purse and pried Blake from my arms. “You’re the last person he needs to influence him.”
The parting shot stung, but it was the one thing she’d said all night that was the truth.
