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HAPPY MOM

“Of course you weren’t,” Nathan says dryly. He meets my gaze.

His mom definitely has our number. But unlike his dad, she doesn’t seem to mind the deception.

She spends the dinner asking me about myself. Where I went to school, whether I’m close with my family, whether I’ve been married before. Her questions are so briskly confident, I answer them automatically, even the nosy ones.

Nathan barely has a chance to get a word in edgewise. Not that he’s trying very hard. He’s spent the meal with his hand on my thigh, twisting and toying with the fabric of my skirt. The casually possessive gesture is comforting and arousing at the same time.

We’re halfway through the dessert course a rich chocolate mousse I could swoon over when Jackie finally runs out of questions for me.

She watches me and Nathan with a wistful smile. “You really are quite lovely, my dear. He’s finally met someone ambitious enough for him.”

“Thank you,” I say, unsure why she seems sad about that.

Jackie shifts her focus to
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