Just One Kiss (Very Irresistible Bachelors #2) - Layla Hagen Page 0,22

fund’s HR. I’d had to tell them my information.

“Mommy, can I come out?” Avery called.

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“Who was it?”

“The postman. He brought us something. Here, this is for you.”

She snatched the golden envelope I handed her. Her little mouth formed an adorable O when she read her name. I never saw her handle anything with more care than this envelope. She opened it slowly, retrieving the invitation even slower.

“It says here Miss Avery Prescott. I am a miss? Wow.”

I went behind her, reading over her shoulder.

Dear Miss Avery Prescott...

Oh, Ryker. He certainly knew how to play his cards. Our names were handwritten. Had he done this himself?

I could read it out loud to her, but since she’d started reading, she loved doing it by herself. It took a while longer, but I loved watching her. I could practically feel her light up. The Ballroom Galas were so legendary that even Avery knew about them.

When she turned around, she was smiling from ear to ear. I melted on the spot. I hadn’t seen her this happy in a while.

“Mommy,” she whispered. “I don’t understand. It says here it is for me.”

“It is.”

“But kids at my school say only important people go.”

“I guess you’re important, lovebug.”

“Can I go without you?”

What?

I waved my own invitation in front of her. “I’ve got one too.”

“So, you’re important too?”

I burst out laughing. She looked almost disappointed that she wasn’t the only important one here.

“Yes, lovebug.”

“And we’re going?”

“I have to check my calendar.”

I read over the note again, trying to buy myself time. But Avery was watching me with wide, expectant eyes. Then she wrapped her arms around me.

“Please, please, Mommy. I promise I’ll be good for a whole month. Go to bed early, not steal cookies.”

“You’ve been stealing cookies?” I feigned surprise.

She winced. “Sometimes. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. But you have to be careful. They’re not good for your teeth.”

“Mommy! Please say yes.”

I was so torn. I wanted to make Avery happy. I wanted to make Ryker happy too... even though I had a hunch that involved far more than agreeing to the gala. But whatever reservations I still harbored, I just didn’t have it in myself to wipe Avery’s smile away. Which left me with only one outcome.

“Yes, we’re going.”

“Yeeeees! Thank you, Mommy.”

Avery jumped in my arms, lacing her small arms around her neck in one of those hugs I loved so much.

“Can I stay up late tonight?”

I laughed. Typical Avery. She’d gotten her way with one thing, and automatically pushed the next item on her agenda.

“No, honey. You still have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Avery pouted but didn’t insist. I was dying to try on a dress I thought would fit, but first had to put Avery to bed.

I shot Ryker a quick message.

Heather: Just received the invitations. Avery is psyched. And so am I.

The next second, the screen lit up with Ryker’s name. I debated answering, but instead rejected the call, typing yet another message.

Heather: I’ll call you after I put Avery to bed, okay? About half an hour.

Ryker’s reply came almost immediately.

Ryker: Non-PG 13 call? I like the sound of it.

I blushed violently. I finished Avery’s routine with ten minutes to spare, took the invitations, and darted to my bedroom. It was small—since I was single, I’d left the bigger bedroom to Avery, and even that wasn’t too much space. I’d pushed a small double bed against the wall and had a tiny nightstand next to it. My dresser was just at the foot of the bed.

Instead of calling Ryker right away, I took a dress out of my closet. It had a black lace corset and golden organza skirt that flowed to the floor. I’d worn it at a newspaper event at the Plaza but hadn’t had another occasion worthy of this beauty since. I slipped it on, admiring myself in the mirror.

Even my messy hair looked as if it was messy on purpose. Of course, it helped that the room was semidark, hiding any imperfection, giving me a mysterious air. For a brief second, I forgot all my troubles. I wasn’t a reporter chasing her bonus or a single mom. I was a woman.

My blood thrummed when Ryker called. Thirty minutes on the dot, as if he didn’t want to give me a chance to change my mind.

I picked up the phone, returning in front of the mirror, admiring the dress some more.

“Heather,” Ryker greeted in a low, gravelly voice. If I closed my eyes, I could