“She agreed,” he said to his wife, who all but jumped up and down on the spot before breaking into excited chatter in a language Danny clocked as Niuean.

Leaving them to it, Danny and his freaked-out guts joined Catie, and the two of them headed over to the parking lot. “What did you agree to?”

“He invited me to his brother-in-law’s eighteenth birthday party next month.” She grinned. “It’s going to be a family-and-friends thing out in Devonport. Wanna come?”

“Yeah, okay,” Danny said even though they might not be on such good terms after the Talk.

Catie’s smile faded as she looked at him, and he knew he’d revealed too much all over again. They didn’t speak the rest of the way to their cars. Pulling out behind her, he felt his cheeks flush burning hot, then go ice-cold.

“Shit, Danny. You idiot.” Slapping the steering wheel, he wished he was a mad scientist so he could build a time machine and take back that moment—but what was done was done. Chances were that Catie would tell him to pull his head in and stop acting strange, and they’d pretend it never happened.

Yeah, that would be good.

Except… his heart went all tight when he thought about ignoring what was happening and going back to how they’d always been with each other. Though… what the hell was he thinking? Him and Catie? It would never work.

Why not?

A question from the idiot in his brain who’d also taken over his body.

“We barely get along for one thing,” he muttered to himself.

Lies. You two get along fine. You just get along in your own way.

Danny frowned but couldn’t argue with that. He and Catie never actually fought. And when push came to shove, they were there for each other in a blink. They just also liked to rile each other up on a regular basis.

“Which is not the foundation for a relationship,” he pointed out to himself. “And why the fuck am I even thinking that far ahead? Catie’s going to ream me out for messing things up, our relationship will turn awkward for a bit, after which we’ll be fine.” Because the idea of a serious breach between them wasn’t a fact he could comprehend.

He kept that thought at the forefront of his mind as he turned to park in a visitor spot in the underground garage of her apartment building. She’d pulled ahead of him during a traffic light change, so was waiting for him at the elevator by the time he got himself sorted.

Jogging over, he said, “Is it my imagination or did this place get a paint job?”