He chuckled. “You’re vicious when you want to be.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Never.” He gave my hand another squeeze. “You ready?”

“Ready.” I wasn’t. Nowhere near it. But I could fake it until I made it.

“Liar.”

“It’s not nice to call someone a liar, you know.”

He lifted my hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. “It is when it means I know you.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. Not because I was about to face my parents and their ugliness, but because that easy brush of his mouth against my skin had sent a shock through me. As if all my nerve endings were standing at attention.

“You don’t know everything.” It was a tease and a warning all at once.

“I don’t have to. I know what’s important.”

Each word killed. A pain that brought with it the deepest pleasure. A sensation I couldn’t let myself lean into. I didn’t jerk away, but I squeezed his hand and then slipped out of his hold. “We should go.”

“We should.”

Mason and I climbed out of the Range Rover, and he beeped the locks. When we met at the head of the vehicle, he twined his fingers with mine. I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t. I needed to know that I wasn’t going into this meeting alone. That someone had my back.

We made our way inside, Mason giving our names to the receptionist. She immediately led us back to a conference room. It was light, the large windows letting sunshine fill the space. Coffee, juice, and assorted pastries sat on the table. It gave me the sudden urge to laugh. This polite falsity before two groups tore into each other, fighting with everything they had.

Keisha breezed through a door the receptionist had left open. She was the picture of professionalism in a smart skirt suit, her wavy, black hair woven into a half-updo I never would’ve been able to perfect. “Anna, Mason, welcome. Do you want coffee or breakfast?” She gave me a quick hug and Mason a kiss on the cheek.

I instinctively placed a hand over my belly. “I don’t think my stomach can take food right now.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know this won’t be fun, but it’s necessary. Even if we don’t have a shot at getting them to back down, it will help us see what they have up their sleeves.”

A chess master. That was what Keisha was. Always thinking, not just one step ahead but ten. Arranging pieces on the board so she could make her move.

“I’m glad you’re our lawyer and not my parents’.”

She chuckled. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” I assured her.