They pulled in next to Darwin’s car at the Iron Mike Conference Center on Fort Bragg. When they walked inside, Taylor couldn’t contain her gasp. The decorator had transformed the banquet hall into a tasteful, sophisticated tribute to the Army, with black and gold silk bunting and tablecloths, and a dance floor that had the Army’s emblem projected onto the center of it. It was the perfect setting to celebrate her dad’s birthday.

As the guests started to file in, Taylor braced herself for the good-natured ribbing about Colonel Powell’s “wild child” from her parents’ friends. She’d expected at least a few questions about the viral video with Craig, but instead found herself fielding multiple inquiries about her relationship with Jamar. Her date, to his credit, took it all in stride, even signing a few autographs.

“I don’t appreciate you being more popular than I am at my own dad’s birthday party,” she said, resting her head against his chest as they rocked back and forth to an old ballad from the ’70s.

“That’s because you’re doing this celebrity dating thing all wrong.”

She looked up at him. “How should I be doing it?”

“You should use me to get stuff out of people.” He tipped his head toward a group of men standing near the open bar. “Take that guy who came over about a half hour ago.”

“The one with the Bluetooth speaker hanging from his ear like it’s 2005?”

“Yep, that one. He would have paid fifty bucks for my autograph and a selfie. Easy.”

Taylor burst out laughing. “No way!”

“No doubt,” Jamar said.

“First of all, what makes you think that? And secondly, why would you charge someone for an autograph?”

“I would never charge someone for an autograph. I was only pointing out that you could if you wanted to play my celebrity to your advantage. And I know he’d do it because he has a Chicago Bears tie pin and phone case, and he’s come over to talk to me three times already tonight.”

“Well, next time I’ll set up an autograph booth,” Taylor said with a laugh. She hooked her arms around his neck. “For now, I’ll bask in the knowledge that every woman—save for my mother, of course—is jealous that I’m here with you.”

His brow arched. “Even your sister?”

“Hell yes. Chester is all right, but he’s no Diesel Dixon.”

She felt his deep chuckle reverberating through his chest.

As they swayed to the music, Taylor tried to figure out exactly what she was feeling. It took her a moment to recognize it as contentment. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced anything close to this, especially when surrounded by people who never missed the opportunity to throw some of her ill-advised teenage antics in her face.