“Ray!” I hiss. “No! Bad bird! Stop saying that!” I wonder for how long he remembers phrases for, and hope he forgets it by tomorrow.

“Upstairs,” he says.

Ignoring the bird, I grab my purse and go back upstairs. Lukas is still sound asleep, the blanket covering him from the waist down. I sit on the floor next to the bed and check my cell phone. I have a text from Macy, saying she’s okay and at Shelly’s, and a missed call from Tommy. I quickly reply to Macy that I’ll see her tomorrow. I feel awful that I missed Tommy’s goodnight call and hope he’s not upset I didn’t answer—something I’ve never done before. A text comes in as I’m staring at my phone, and I’m irked to see it’s from Paul and not Macy.

Paul: Where are you?

Me: Out

Paul: Where?

Me: None of your business. Is Tommy ok?

Paul: Yes. He called and u didn’t answer.

Me: I know and I’m sorry. I will call him in the morning.

Paul: Are you home?

What the heck is with his interrogation? Rude.

I look around Lukas’ room while I debate answering Paul’s annoying messages. I count six different gargoyle statues watching over the bed. I’m not sure if they are cool or creepy.

Me: No

Paul: Then where are you? It’s 2am.

Me: I know what time it is. Why aren’t you enjoying the wonders of Charlene?

Paul: She’s sleeping.

Me: I’m going to do the same. I’m tired. I’ll call Tommy in the morning.

Paul: Where are you sleeping, Ivy?

Me: I’m on a date.

Paul: With who?????

Me: Fuck off

I mute his texts and stuff my phone back into my purse. Who the hell does he think he is?

As soon as I climb up on the bed, Lukas stirs and opens his eyes, squinting at me in the dim light cast from the electric fireplace.

“Ivy? You okay?”

“I was just checking my phone to see if the kids called.”

He stretches and sits up. “They okay?”

I nod and scoot closer to him. “Yeah, I missed Tommy’s call. I feel bad.”

He pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry. From now on, we’ll make sure you have your cell phone with you all the time when you’re here, and you can give them my house number. They can call here any time.”

“It’s okay. I can’t be attached to them twenty-four-seven.”

“I know . . . but I want you to be relaxed here and not worried, and I want your kids to know where you are.”

“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”

He tugs at the hem of the shirt I’m wearing. “Take this off. I wore it on stage. It’s probably all sweaty.”

I smile but pull the shirt over my head and lay it on the floor next to the bed. “I don’t mind wearing your sweaty shirt,” I say, smiling.

“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, rolling on top of me.

“If you want me to, then yes.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do. I don’t want you to ever leave.”

“I can stay the night.”

He kisses the tip of my nose. “That’ll do for now.”

LUKAS

I CAN NOW SCRATCH WAKING UP with the woman of my dreams off my bucket list.

She’s sleeping on her stomach, hugging my pillow, one of her legs bent up. I want to spread her from behind and sink myself into her, but I don’t, because I don’t want her to think I’m just gonna fuck her all the time and nothing else. She is so much more to me than that. But damn, that view is tempting.

Instead, I kiss her cheek, take a shower, and walk to the cafe to get us two vanilla brown sugar lattes and bagels. When I get back to the house, there’s a car in my parking lot, which is odd because it’s Sunday and we rarely see clients on Sundays. I cross the parking lot, knock on the window of the car, and the guy rolls down his window.

“Can I help you?” I ask him.

He looks from his cell phone to my house then back to me.

“Is this 26 Main?”

“It is. Do you have an appointment?” I ask, hoping Vandal didn’t set up an appointment with someone and then forget about it, which he’s done before.

“An appointment?” he repeats, confused.

“Yeah, for a tattoo?”

“No, I’m looking for Ivy.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Ivy?”

“Yeah, she’s my wife. The GPS software on our phones told me she’s here, at this address.”

This fucking guy. Fury rages up inside me. No way in hell is he gonna wreck my first weekend with Ivy.

“She’s inside sleeping,” I tell him.

He pales. “What? And how do you know that?”

“Because she’s in my bed.”

Shock contorts his face. “Excuse me?”

“Look, man, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, but let’s set some shit straight. First, she’s not your wife anymore. You left her and moved in with your girlfriend, remember? Second, you’re on my property. My shop is closed today, and I haven’t invited you to my home, so in my eyes, you’re trespassing.”

“What the fuck is my wife doing in your bed?”

“Your wife isn’t in my bed. My girlfriend is in my bed. And now, I’m going to bring her the latte I just got for her before it gets cold. I want you out of my parking lot.”

“I want to talk to her. She didn’t answer her phone last night when our son called.”

“That’s right, because we were busy. She’s going to call him when she wakes up. And, by the way, where is Tommy right now? If it’s your weekend to be with him, shouldn’t you be with him and not stalking Ivy?”

“Fuck you, pal.”

I chew my lip ring and try to control my anger. The last thing I want is Ivy getting all upset about me and this douche-nugget having a fight.

“I’m going inside now,” I say calmly. “Get off my property. If you’re still here by the time I get inside, I’ll call the police and have them come remove you.”

I walk away from him, not giving him a chance to say anything else. I’m not happy that this guy is obviously still hung up on Ivy, and he’s not dealing with the fact that she’s moved on with someone else. Did he really think someone as pretty and sweet as her was gonna stay single, and that he could hang on to her while he went out and fucked around?

Not a chance, dude.

“Hands on the wall,” Ray squawks when I cross the living room on my way upstairs. Shit.

“Ray, you’re a pretty bird,” I say, trying to divert him back to bird-talk. I forgot he could hear us in the foyer last night, and the last thing I need is him repeating it all back to us.

“I’m a pretty bird,” he repeats.

“Yes, you are.”

“I want you,” he says, mimicking Ivy.

I glare at him in his cage. “Ray, be a pretty bird.”

He cocks his little black feathered head at me, pretending to be innocent. But I know better.

“I’m a pretty bird,” he says softly.

“Keep it up, bird brain, and you’ll end up in a salad.”

I climb the stairs and find Ivy sitting up in my bed, holding her cell phone, frowning at the screen. My stomach sinks a little. What if Paul has come to his senses and wants her back? He may be a jerk, but he’s shared eighteen years with her, and given her two kids. So far, all I’ve given her is a tattoo and a night of multiple orgasms.

“Hey,” I say, sitting on the bed. “I got us lattes and bagels.”

She smiles sleepily at me. “How did you know I was dying for a coffee?” She kisses my cheek as I hand her the latte.

“I know it’s your fav.” I nod my head at her phone. “Everything okay?”

She shoves her phone into her purse. “Yeah, I called Tommy. He’s playing Xbox, said he was alone with Charlene and that his Dad wasn’t home. Then I got a text from Paul, asking me where I was.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I was with my boyfriend and it was none of his business.”

“What did he say?” I ask, wondering if Paul is going to tell her about our altercation in my parking lot.

She shrugs and sips her coffee. “Nothing. He hasn’t replied. I don’t know what his problem is.”

“Obviously, he’s jealous, and I don’t blame him.”

“He can be jealous all he wants. He made his bed, slept with a slut in it, and now he can stay in it.”

I let out a laugh. “Ooh, I like little feisty Ivy.”

I decide to not tell her that Paul was GPSing her and stalked her right to my house. No sense in getting her upset or nervous, especially when it looks like Paul isn’t going to mention it either. Most likely, he feels like an idiot right about now.

We sit on the floor of my bedroom in front of the fireplace and eat our breakfast, talking a little about the band and my shop. I hope her new questions are coming from interest and not doubt in me.

“What if Paul wants you back?” I ask her, because I can’t get the thought out of my head now. He kept referring to her as his wife, and that just doesn’t sit well with me at all.

“He doesn’t. Charlene is young and gorgeous.”

I tilt my head at her, hating that she believes someone else is better than she is, just because Paul said so. “Ivy, you’re young and gorgeous, too. You’re beautiful.” I kiss her lips. “And sweet.” I kiss her again. “And smart.” I kiss her longer. “And incredible in bed.”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks down at her coffee cup. “Lukas . . . I’m not.”

I lift her chin and force her to look at me. “You are all of those things, Ivy. Trust me.”

She shakes her head and touches my hand. “I just don’t think of myself like that.”

“I know, but I have no problem telling you, so you should keep me around.”