He wished he could manifest a how-to manual for mothers-in-law. “I’m no threat to anyone,” he said slowly.
“That’s a shame. I would prefer it if you were.”
“I think you’re seriously underestimating my resources, Mrs. Fischer.”
“Bianca. And it’s not your resources that give you power, Josh. It’s how much you love my daughter.” She took a sip of wine. “You do love her, don’t you?”
This was a trap. There was no right answer. So he said nothing.
“It’s important that you never let anyone—and by anyone, I mean Michael—tell you that anything is more powerful than that love.”
“He leveraged the full weight of the United States government against your daughter the last time I dared to love her out loud,” Josh said. “There’s no Valentine’s Day card that outweighs the threat of a federal investigation.”
“That was bullshit.”
“So it would seem—three years later.”
“You should let go of that.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Ma’am—”
“Bianca. Really, I don’t like to be called anything else.”
“Okay.” He took a deep breath and turned sideways. Looked at her, really looked at her. “Bianca.”
She smiled, and it reached all the way to the depths of her unwavering gaze. “That’s better. I like it when you look me in the eye, Josh.”
He had to hold her gaze, then. “I promise I have let go of a lot of old hurt in the last few days. And I promise I only want the best for your daughter. She means the world to me, and always will.”
“Then don’t let her divorce you.”
“That’s not up to me.”
“Of course it is.” She squeezed his arm as Adam announced that dinner was served. “Just remember how powerful your love is. It gives her everything she’s ever wanted.”
28
That night,Josh had to be satisfied with a long goodnight hug at the door to the lake house, after all his siblings were gone. Monica’s mother was inside, probably opening another bottle of rosé.
It wasn’t the time to ask her if her mother was a deluded romantic or a scheming mastermind—or to find a way to politely say he wasn’t interested in Bianca’s games, either way.
Not when he had limited time, and needed Monica to know more important things, like the fact he would miss her that night. That he loved having her in his arms.
And that he couldn’t wait to see her in the morning for their farmer’s market date.
She pressed up on her toes and brushed her mouth against his. “Thank you for tonight.”
“It was fun.”
“My mom cornered you.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Speaking of…”
“Yeah. Go.” He kissed her again. “Text me when you’re in bed.”
She gave him a secret smile, which carried him all the way back to his garage.
And when she texted him two hours later, he was filled with such a bright fucking light he was sure she’d be able to tell from where she was sleeping on the edge of town.
Monica
