“No children for us yet,” Logan said. “Brontë wants to finish her degree first. I’m certainly in no rush.”

“Amen,” Griffin said. After a moment, he added, “Though I wouldn’t mind if Maylee and I had a happy accident.”

At his side, Jonathan Lyons dropped a handful of chips onto the pile. “Violet and I are hoping for a happy accident. Maybe sooner than later.”

“Ha,” Reese said, and punched Jonathan in the arm affably. “Go for it. Raw-dog her, man. Our kids can nanny swap.”

“That is a horrid term,” Griffin said. “Raw . . . dog?”

“Bareback—”

“I know! Good grief, I know.”

Cade just shook his head and picked through his cards. Definitely not what he’d have expected for his thirtieth birthday. He’d pictured spending it with his friends, of course, but talking about babies and marriages? Not exactly. Hardened bachelor Reese had turned from ladies’ man to future daddy and expert on everything husband-related.

In fact, everyone in their small circle had more or less settled down in the last year.

Everyone except Cade.

It wasn’t that he didn’t date. Okay, maybe he didn’t. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in women. He was. Actually, there was one in particular he’d been messed up over for the last, oh, fifteen years or so. He was just waiting for the right one to come around to the idea of being with him.

He thought of Daphne, her wicked smile and devilish attitude, the way she’d draped her arms around him so sweetly . . . and then he thought of the time she’d OD’d in his arms, limp and cold, her lips tinged with blue.

Maybe marriage and a happy-ever-after just wasn’t in the cards for someone like him. He pushed a handful of chips into the center of the table. “Raising you, Jon.”

“Bastard,” Jon said with a grin, and the topic returned to cards once more.

Cade checked his phone discreetly as the others put in their bids. Daphne was supposed to text him when she was out of her practice session. The last time they’d talked—via hastily typed texts—she’d told him she had long dance-routine numbers she had to endure for her upcoming concert and this weekend were dress rehearsals. But she wanted to do something for his birthday, she’d said. She’d buzz him and let him know her schedule.

But that was days ago, and Daphne had never called.

And here he was, thirty and alone. That should have told him something right there. That when it was convenient for Daphne, she liked Cade around. And when it wasn’t . . . he wasn’t even on her radar.

Maybe someday he’d learn. With a small sigh of disgust, Cade tossed another set of chips into the pot. “In.”

—

When poker wrapped up for the evening, Cade found himself walking out with Reese, who’d won the majority of hands that night and had also been celebrating the success of his celebrity cruise line and his plans to partner with a movie studio for character cruise lines based off of popular TV shows and movies. He was in a great mood as they walked out, while Cade was quiet, lost in thought.

“Hey, man,” Reese said, catching Cade’s attention. “Everything all right with you?”

“Always,” Cade said, smiling. Really, he didn’t have much to complain about. Business was great, his charities were having a record year, and he was healthy. There was nothing that should make him discontent or unhappy.

And yet, he felt unsettled. Moody. Envious of his friends and their happiness, perhaps.

“You’re just kinda quiet lately.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just thinking. Nothing important.”

“You busy this weekend? Me and Audrey are heading up to the cabin. Hope that’s okay with you.”

Cade’s getaway cabin? Where they’d met? He grinned. “You know I gave you carte blanche when it comes to that place.”

“Yeah, Audrey’s been having a bad week. Hormones.” Reese grimaced. “Thought I’d bring her back to the love nest and let her relax this weekend. You’re welcome to come.”

And be a third wheel? Watching as they cuddle? He was happy as hell for Reese, but he had a hard time looking at healthy, joyful Audrey, because every time he looked at her, he saw Daphne. Or rather, who he wanted Daphne to be.

Because once upon a time, Daphne had been plump and beautiful and lighthearted. And he’d loved her. Now? Now he didn’t know how he felt. Obsessed, maybe. Desperate? Maybe that, too.

He checked his phone again. Still no text from Daphne. No missed calls. Nothing. Damn it. He knew she was busy, but he was, too. Didn’t she give a shit? At all?