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million times more than we ever thought we would.
    Giggling, Sloane planted a kiss on my cheek.  “I love you.  And I love us.  You, me, Caleb and Jackson.  One big happy family.”
    Champagne bubbling through me, I sighed with content, clinking my crystal flute against Sloane’s.  Surrounded by friends, celebrating my engagement to the love of my life, I was absolutely certain that I’d never ever been happier.

Chapter Eight
    I was walking out of my first bridal appointment on Monday when I bumped into Dane McNulty and his leering grin.  Or rather, he had come up from behind me to say hello in his way.
    “Miss Future Kinsley,” he said, putting his hand on my lower back.  I instinctively stiffened.  “Just me, sweetheart,” he grinned when we locked eyes.
    Oh great.  Even worse than a random stranger trying to touch me , I stretched my lips into a convincing smile.  I loved my life with Jackson but one of the few downsides was the fact that I spent at least twenty percent of my time being pleasant for people I disliked.  Dane topped that list of people, mostly because he gave me, as my mother would call it, the heebie-jeebies.  He was handsome in a over-polished, cologne model kind of way.  But his eyes were a predatory grey and every time he flashed that I’m-mentally-undressing-you smile, I wondered if the line on his cheek was an odd dimple or a terrible scar.  He was all kinds of disconcerting.
    “How are you, Dane,” I asked, barely able to manage an upward inflection to my question.  I didn’t care how Dane was and I wished that kissing wasn’t a customary hello in the world of Jackson’s friends.  I winced as I felt Dane’s mouth linger too long on the hollow of my cheek.  I flashed an overly sweet smile as I manually removed him from my body.  He smelled like scotch.  Barely noon and he had already been drinking.
    Running a hand over his slicked back hair, Dane took me in from head to toe.  “Better now,” he said, his eyes sliding down the front of my saffron maxi-dress.  “How are you, beautiful? Heard you all had a great time in Ibiza without me.”
    I didn’t say anything.  He hadn’t been invited for a reason.  Jackson generally tolerated Dane because many of his friends still liked him, and Dane did in fact have very envious connections.  But since the invasion in our home, it seemed Jackson had lost all patience for appeasing others.  All he wanted was to please himself.  After all, life was too short.
    But since I didn’t want to explain that Jackson’s near-death experience had spurred him to trim Dane from his life, I kept my mouth shut.  I knew Dane would force our conversation to continue anyhow.
    “In case you’re unaware I did Jackson a big solid recently.  You should tell him it’s a bad look to accept my favors and then leave me out of plans with our friends.  But eh, I’m sure he’ll make it up to me by the time we do the Hamptons for Labor Day.”
    “Sure.  Maybe,” I said flatly, certain that that was probably not the right response.  I was used to feeling awkward around Dane, but usually because of his lewd comments, not his feelings of rejected friendship.  Smirking, he pressed on.
    “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in wretched Midtown East?”
    I barely wanted to answer. “Bridal appointment.”
    “Mm, of course.”  Dane slid his hands into his pockets, slightly swaying as he eyed my neckline.  “I’m sure Jackson’s having you pick something obscenely tight.”  His grin spread slowly as I pursed my lips into a line.  I had no response because he wasn’t wrong about Jackson’s preference for skintight dresses.  Silent and annoyed, I watched him break into a laugh.  “Christ.  You let him get away with everything, don’t you?”
    That rubbed me the wrong way.  “What are you talking about?”
    “You know.  The man can do whatever he wants.”
    “Again, what are you talking about.”
    He smirked