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pity party.
    “Your daughter’s father didn’t help out?”
    A chill passed through her. She didn’t want to think about Reese, Ashlynn’s father. One of the biggest mistakes of her life. Still, if she hadn’t made that mistake, there’d be no Ashlynn. “No. He’s never been in her life. We weren’t married.”
    “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
    “Oh, it’s all right. I just—”
    “How old is your little girl?”
    Blaise grinned. “My little girl ’s a grown woman.”
    It would have been natural to mention Ashlynn’s upcoming nuptials, but Blaise was suddenly reluctant to spill the beans. She was pretty sure she was older than Guy, and was fine with it. That made her a cougar . Silly, but she hated for him to picture her as a matron—the mother of the bride in a frumpy outfit and a gaudy hat. Not when she sat here with him, rumpled and glowing from sex and hoping for a second helping— not of onion rings.
    Speaking of which. “Could you spare some of your ketchups?” She’d already used all her own little packets.
    “Take them all. I don’t use it.” He deposited them on her plate.
    “Thanks. So.” She smiled. “I’ve run my mouth long enough. What do you do?”
    “You mean you couldn’t tell from all my questions? I’m a lawyer.”
    “Oh.” Now that was impressive.
    One corner of his mouth lifted. “Not one of the wealthy ones, though. I’m an attorney with Legal Services.”
    He definitely wasn’t in the legal profession for the money. “I see.”
    “I work with the elderly, children, survivors of domestic abuse. It’s a pretty mixed bag.”
    Blaise admired him even more. “You like helping people, too.”
    He nodded. “I think I’ve helped some, yeah.”
    “Was that something you always wanted to do? The law, I mean.”
    “Not right away. For a while, I thought I might be a teacher like my father.” He wiped his mouth and placed his crumpled napkin on his plate. “My mom’s an accountant, but numbers aren’t my thing. My roommate in college was pre-law, and he got me thinking about it. As it happened, he ended up dropping out, but I decided to go for it.”
    “Your family must be very proud of you.”
    “They’re proud of both their children. I have a sister. I think my abuelo was proudest of all.”
    “Your grandfather.”
    His eyes lit up. “You know Spanish.”
    “A few words.” She’d picked them up from Desi and her mother, Gloria.
    “Abuelo was in his eighties when I passed the bar exam. He actually cried when he heard the news. He worked as a custodian and lived to see his grandson become a lawyer.”
    Blaise blinked hard and had to clear her throat before she spoke again. “That’s an amazing story. Your family really embodies the American Dream.” She wondered what he’d make of her story, nowhere near as inspiring. An unintended pregnancy at nineteen, being forced to drop out of college, years of scrounging at minimum wage jobs to support even a crummy standard of living.
    “Hello?” He tilted his head, peered at her intently. “You seemed to go somewhere else for a minute.”
    “No, it’s nothing.” Her smile felt more like a grimace.
    He nodded at her plate. “Have you finished?”
    “Oh. Yes.”
    He stood, gathered their plates and glassware, and placed the tray outside the door. Blaise slipped back into bed, admiring his firm backside as he walked away from her and his taut abs as he headed back toward the bed. On his way, he stopped and picked up Cupid’s Delight from the armchair. He smiled, one corner of his mouth hitched a bit higher than the other.
    “Remember this?”
    “Oh, yeah. You bet.” She smiled, patted the empty pillow beside her.
    He climbed into bed and leaned against the headboard with the book. She snuggled against his solid form, her head nestled in the groove between his neck and shoulder. It fit there perfectly, as though designed especially for her.
    Guy held the book in his left hand, his right arm