“We’ll leave you to it,” Finley interjected before Luke could reply. She rested her hand on Derek’s forearm. “There’s a band outside, and we haven’t done any dancing yet. Want to give that a try?”

“How could I say no?”

They reached the tent. A band wearing matching white shirts with pink ties played fifties and sixties songs. The music invited couples to slow dance, two-step, and twirl.

If not a good dancer, Derek was, at least, a good sport. It should’ve been fun to dance a portion of the night away. The couples around them appeared to be having a marvelous time.

Finley pretended the same. Inside, however, she felt rattled. Hurt.

Her mind chewed on thoughts of Luke the way a child chews on a stolen piece of candy—secretly and relentlessly.

Luke cursed himself to hell and back.

He’d decided to come here.

He’d known Finley was bringing a date. But he hadn’t known that seeing her with Derek would be so sharply painful. Possessiveness had twisted together with wanting someone he couldn’t have to the point that he’d been unable to take a deep breath since she’d walked up to him.

He was mad. At the world. At Finley. Most of all . . . at himself.

For decades now, he’d been an expert at punishing himself. When they’d released him from prison, he’d told himself he was done with that. But apparently not.

He should have stayed home.

He felt sick to his stomach.

“I see my dad across the room,” Dakota said. “Want to head over and say hi?”

“You go. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“’Kay.” She moved off.

Dakota had approached him seconds after he’d entered the house. He didn’t have anything against her. She was attractive and friendly. However, she wasn’t Finley. So it was a relief not to have to keep making conversation with her.

He crossed to the bar. What were the chances they had tequila?

Zero, it turned out. They had regular and pink champagne, rosé, and a beer called The Love.

He picked up a beer and drank half of it down.

“Luke.” A feminine voice spoke his name.

He turned to see three of the Miracle Five. Natasha and her sister, Genevieve, both carrying small plates of appetizers. Plus Sebastian.

He swallowed a curse word.

“I’m so glad that you came tonight,” Genevieve said to him.

“Who managed to coerce you into attending tonight?” Natasha asked. “I’m going to send them a bouquet of flowers.”

“Was it CeCe?” Sebastian guessed.

“Yes.”

“In that case, CeCe will be receiving a bouquet from me,” Natasha stated. “It’s not easy to entice you into a public setting.”