Plan B (Best Laid Plans #2) - Jana Aston Page 0,21

comes out as more of a huff of air. Even Tubbs is giving me some serious kitty side-eye.

"It's not?"

"Not even close. You're crazy if you think I'm letting you out of my sight."

"Aww." I lay my hand over my heart as my feet hit the floor. "How romantic. But I'll be just fine on my own, I assure you. There is one thing you could do for me though."

"One thing," he repeats slowly. "What is that?" he asks, eyes narrowed like I'm the suspicious one between the two of us. Pfft.

"I'd like my camera back."

He blinks, a glint of surprise crossing his expression as if he's forgotten about it before he shrugs it off. "Sure. You can have it back. After we eat."

"I'm not hungry."

Except. Except that I'm starving and my stomach chooses that moment to loudly protest all lies about not wanting food. Kyle raises his brows as if to further call me out on the fib.

I sigh, loudly. "Fine."

8

Kyle

"Explain to me why I have to go to brunch? In your sister’s clothing? That's not weird at all, by the way. Not at all."

We're in the elevator at my residence and Daisy hasn't stopped complaining for the entirety of the descent to the lobby. Forty floors. Thankfully, we're alone. The elevator did make a stop on the thirty-second floor. A guy I've seen a few times in the gym took one look at Daisy—who was in the midst of one of her hostile jazz hand displays—before stepping back with a small head nod to me as if to say, Best of luck, buddy. I'll catch the next elevator.

"Because we need to eat and last night’s dress isn't brunch-appropriate. And because one of us fell asleep at a quarter past ten before we had a chance to discuss our predicament."

"Because one of us is pregnant. It's exhausting. And we're not in a predicament. It's the twenty-first century and as I've just explained to you, I've got this covered. I don't need you."

Huh.

Not needed.

"I could do with less of your attitude, Daisy," I mutter as the elevator finally reaches the lobby. I've never noticed before how many words could be crammed into that descent.

"We all have our crosses to bear, Kyle. The point is, I was only trying to locate you in order to notify you. I don't need anything. I'm quite capable, all on my own."

"I know. You thought you'd notify me and bounce. Because it's the polite thing to do," I remind her of what she said yesterday when she so articulately explained her reasons for crashing the party posing as my fiancée.

"That is correct," she agrees, her chin tilted up in defiance.

I stare at her for a moment, wondering what this would be like if it weren't so complicated. This situation. Me. Us.

We exit my building onto Walnut and I guide Daisy with a hand on her lower back toward 19th. It's a two-block walk, 19th over to Samson Street to my regular Sunday brunch spot. The Dandelion is a British pub tucked into an old brick building in the heart of downtown Philadelphia. It's got the requisite bar inside, a big vintage piece complete with a wall covered with liquor bottles behind. But the rest of the place is filled with scratched-up wooden tables and mismatched chairs. Aged photos of English hunting dogs haphazardly hung over red leather banquet seats tucked into corners.

It's comfortable, and Gigi loves it. She's already here, along with Kerrigan, seated at a brightly lit table complete with a window seat framed by heavy floral drapes.

The moment Daisy spots Kerrigan she freezes, her steps faltering. I may have forgotten to mention we weren't dining alone. Or neglected to mention it. Semantics.

"That's my grandmother with Kerrigan. My mother's mother," I murmur into her ear as I grasp her hand and tug her in their direction.

"You can't be serious." She tugs back on her hand but I've got a firm hold and I'm not letting go.

"I'm definitely serious," I tell her as Gigi and Kerrigan notice our arrival and then everyone is standing and hugging.

"Kerrigan mentioned you had news," my grandmother enthuses while grasping Daisy in a tight hug. "I'm so thrilled for you, Kyle!" She steps back allowing Daisy to breathe. "Aren't you lovely? No wonder Kyle is so taken with you."

Daisy blinks rapidly like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. Blink, blink. A glance to me then back at my grandmother. Blink, blink.

"You'll call me Gigi," my grandmother tells her without missing