Cuff Me (2 page)

O
ne never really realized how much New York City got under your skin until you left it for a while.

It was like one minute New York was your adopted home—a little bit intense, a lot scary.

And the next, you were holding your breath as your plane landed, your entire body on edge with the anticipation of being
home
again.

Jill Henley smiled as the plane touched down, her eyes closing just for a moment at the realization that she’d be sleeping in her own bed tonight. Going back to her job tomorrow. Eating at her favorite gyros place tomorrow.

But none of that—not the city, nor her pillow-top bed, nor the really freaking amazing gyros—were as important as
who
awaited her.

The Morettis.

Jill loved her mother desperately—it was the reason
she’d spent the past three months in Florida taking care of her.

But the Moretti family had become every bit as much family to Jill as her own mom.

She couldn’t wait to see them again.

All of them.

Okay, so maybe there was one Moretti in particular whom she was especially excited to see.

Not that the excitement was mutual.

As she walked through JFK toward baggage claim, she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why she was even the
tiniest
bit disappointed about the fact that Vincent Moretti wouldn’t be the one picking her up from the airport.

She hadn’t even asked him. He might have said yes. Maybe. But it would have been done with a grunt and a grumble, and probably a lecture about how his workload was double because his partner had “up and ditched him.”

Besides, it made more sense for Elena to pick her up anyway.

Not only was Elena her best friend, but Elena was an attorney at a fancy-pants law firm, with access to a company car that was a hell of a lot nicer than Vin’s car and didn’t smell like old coffee.

Plus, Jill had news.

Big news.

The biggest.

The kind of news that female friends squealed over in the appropriate, gushing manner.

So why was she so nervous?

Jill bit her lip as she waited at baggage claim for the carousel to start dropping her flight’s bags.

She pulled out her cell and texted Elena.
At baggage claim.

Cool. Stuck in traffic on airport drive. Can’t WAIT to see you. xoxo.

Jill smiled. She and Elena had texted frequently while Jill had been in Florida, but texts and phone calls weren’t the same as a good, in-person gab session.

They needed wine and cookies and ice cream. Oh, and pasta. God, she’d missed pasta. The from-a-jar spaghetti sauce she’d made for her mom once a week couldn’t compare with Maria Moretti’s made-from-her-own-tomatoes sauce.

Ten minutes later, Jill had heaved her two enormous suitcases off the carousel just as Elena called her phone.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry. Just now pulling up. Where you at? I’ll run in.”

“Run, huh?” Jill asked as she wheeled her bags toward the door. “Tell me, how high are your heels today, four inches or five?”

“Okay, so I’ll stride purposefully,” Elena said. “Just tell me what carousel thingy you’re at. I can have Cory circle around.”

“Who the heck is Cory?”

“New driver. He’s totally cute. Great butt.”

Jill rolled her eyes. “He can totally hear you, huh?”

“
Totally
. Okay, now where are you for real? I’m coming in, but if I break a nail—”

“Door eight,” Jill said, and she stepped outside. “While you were flirting with your driver, I already got my bags. Also, how freaking cold is it right now? It was not this cold last winter.”

“It totally was; you’ve just been spending too much time on the beach. Okay, we’re approaching. What are you wearing?”

Jill glanced down at her white long-sleeve tee and jeans with her puffy-coat vest.

“Minidress,
obviously
. It’s lacy, super short. Maybe a little see-through, I can’t be sure. My hair’s styled in big ringlets, sort of beauty queen style—”

“I see you, you little liar. Also, didn’t we agree that the Uggs were going buh-bye after last winter?”

A black car pulled up in front of Jill, the back window rolling down to reveal the stunning, if slightly haughty, features of Elena Moretti.

“Hello, darling,” her best friend said.

Then the back door was open and they were doing the squealing, hoppy thing that seemed entirely necessary after a three-month separation.

Well, mostly it was Jill doing the jumping and squealing, while the far more sophisticated Elena let Jill all but maul her with hugs.

“Down, girl,” Elena said with one last pet of Jill’s ponytail.

Jill pulled back so she could study her best friend, grinning in relief when she saw Elena looked exactly as she had when Jill left. Her best friend was stunning. Tall, hourglass figure, long chestnut hair, blue eyes… total hottie.

Add in the girl-power suits and killer heels, and you had a bona fide man-eater on your hands.

Speaking of men, a guy, whom Jill assumed must be Cory, gave them an indulgent smile as he easily hoisted Jill’s suitcases into the trunk, before coming around and holding the door for them expectantly.

“He
does
have a cute butt,” Jill whispered as she climbed into the backseat after Elena.

“Right? Oh, and if it comes up, you’re a potential client,” Elena said before turning her vibrating phone to silent and dropping it into her Chanel bag. “Hence why I’m using company resources.”

“Cool, got it. I can totally play this,” Jill said, clicking her seat belt into place. She cleared her throat. “You can’t handle the truth!”

The driver faltered slightly as he lowered himself into the driver’s seat, and Elena rolled her eyes. “What was that?”

“Jack Nicholson, from… actually, I have no idea what that’s from.”

“It’s from
A Few Good Men
, and that’s not what I’m asking. I’m wondering why the heck you’re shouting it out all crazy-like right now?”

“Well, Jack’s character says that while he’s on the witness stand. And you said I was supposed to be a client, so…”

Elena stared at her. “Babe, what is it you think I do all day?”

“Lawyer stuff?” Jill grinned widely.

“Right. And I’m sure all you do all day is drink coffee and eat doughnuts, right? Cop stuff?”

Jill gave a happy sigh. “God, I miss doughnuts. Florida doesn’t know how to do them right, and Mom decided that going without sugar was going to be her ‘thing’ during her sixties.”

Elena looked horrified. “No wine? That has sugar.”

“Yeah, I think she conveniently ignores that.”

“How is she?”

“Better now,” Jill said. “Getting her mobility back and all that.”

A broken collarbone and hip were a nasty combination for anyone, but it had been especially hard on Kerry Henley, who prided herself in being an active “young” sixty-year-old. One day she’d been running a 5K, and then next she’d missed a step carrying her laundry basket down the stairs and been almost completely laid up for months.

It had taken up all of Jill’s personal time plus a couple months of unpaid leave to care for her, but Jill hadn’t hesitated to make the temporary move to Florida.

Her boss had assured her that her job would be waiting for her when she got back, and three months of your life is the least you could do for a parent who’d given eighteen years to caring for you.

Jill’s in particular deserved her devotion; Jill’s dad had dropped dead of a heart attack at forty-one, leaving Kerry to raise a headstrong (read: bratty) daughter all by herself.

“I’m glad she’s better. I love your mom. I wish she’d come up to New York more often.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you had to listen to her complain about the pigeons and the subway and the weather.”

“Could be worse. Last Sunday, my mother actually started a sentence with, “You’re not getting any younger, Elena.”

“I can beat that.
Mine
suggested freezing my eggs.”

“You’re right. You win. And speaking of your nether regions, I’m so overdue for an update on this Tom guy you’ve been seeing. Did you guys decide to do long distance? Or are you going to wait until you find out if he’s any good at sexting before you cut him loose?”

Jill bit her lip, gathering courage for what she was about to say. For some reason, she’d always pictured this moment as feeling… different. She expected feeling giddy and breathless as she made The Big Announcement.

Instead she felt hesitant.

So Jill did what Jill Henley did whenever she felt anything less than sparkles and rainbows.

She faked it.

Jill pasted a smile on her face, took a deep breath, and shot her left hand out in front of Elena’s face.

“What, are you—” Elena broke off, her cool fingers wrapping around Jill’s wrist as her mouth dropped open. “No. Freaking. Way.”

“Way.”

Elena let out an uncharacteristic squeal. “You’re getting married?!”

The words hit Jill with a little slap.

She was getting married.

It felt… funny.

Probably because she wasn’t used to it yet.

Elena threw herself across the backseat, arms wrapped around Jill’s neck as she kissed the side of Jill’s head repeatedly.

“Congratulations, darling! When? Do I get to be maid of honor? I won’t wear green, but you know that. How did it happen? How did it happen? Oh yeah, and why did you not tell me?”

Jill managed to extricate herself from Elena’s grip, only to have her left hand held hostage as Elena studied the square-cut diamond with a scary level of scrutiny.

“He asked last night,” Jill said, gazing fondly at the ring. “I thought it was our farewell dinner, and, well, he had other ideas.”

“Hell yeah, he did,” Elena said, ceasing studying the diamond so that she could instead study Jill.

“I wanted to call you last night,” Jill said apologetically.
“I so did. But I thought if I could hold off just a few hours, and tell you in person…”

“Forgiven. Of course. I mean, the news is so much better with the ring, you know?”

Let’s hope everyone feels that way.
Jill sat in thought as Elena lifted her hand, studying the ring.

Because if she’d been nervous to tell Elena, it was nothing compared to her nerves over telling Vincent. Which made no sense. She and Vin weren’t romantically involved. Had never even come close.

And he might be the most surly grouch on the planet, but he cared about her. Cared about her happiness.

He
would
be happy for her.

Wouldn’t he?

“I’m thrilled, you know that, right?” Elena asked.

Jill smiled because she knew that tone. “But…”

Her friend bit her lip for a moment, looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself before taking a deep breath. “Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it. This happened fast. You’ve known the guy three months. You’re all the way sure?”

Jill twisted the ring. “I’m sure. I’m totally sure. You’ll understand when you meet him, El. He’s just… he’s just… he’s
perfect
.”

“Perfect, huh? You just got engaged, so I’m going to allow for the hyperbole. But tell me why I should let this guy marry my best friend.”

Jill blew out a breath, wondering how to explain. “You know you meet another person and just
get
them? It was like that.”

“Explain.”

Explain
.

How did one explain Tom Edward Porter and how when you met someone as perfectly
right
for you as Tom was for her, you couldn’t afford to waste thought on things like soul mates or passion.

You just had to go for it.

“Okay, it’s like this,” Jill said, twisting so she could better face Elena. “When you were little, did you ever make your brothers play wedding with you? You know, make one of them pretend to be the groom?”

“Um, of course.”

“Luc?” Jill asked curiously.

“Obviously. He’s the nicest of the bunch, and the youngest, which made him easiest to coerce.”

Jill nodded. Elena had four brothers, and with the exception of mostly easygoing Luc, she couldn’t imagine any of them patiently letting their sister dress them up as groom to her bride.

Luc Moretti—the
bambino
as he was lovingly known—might have managed to stand still just long enough to say his pretend vows.

Anthony, the oldest, was far too serious. Marco was more laid-back, although from what Jill had heard, he’d also been the most rowdy of the kids. Then there was Vincent, and the thought of him humoring anyone, least of all his sister… no. Just no.

Jill felt a tightening in her chest at the thought of the Morettis.
God
, she’d missed them.

Elena snapped her fingers in Jill’s face. “Your mind is wandering. Focus, Jilly.”

“Right, okay… so back when we were little girls and imagining our perfect future husband… we were
totally
picturing Tom.”

“So… you’re marrying an eight-year-old’s fantasy? That’s not creepy
at all
.”

Jill laughed, missing her friend’s
no bullshit
candor. “No, okay, it’s like… Tom is just
nice
. He’s the sort of guy you dream about on Valentine’s Day when you’re depressed about being single, so you buy bridal magazines, and then spend the evening looking at goofy white dresses, drinking too much merlot, and wondering when exactly
he
would arrive on a white horse.”

Or maybe that was just Jill’s Valentine’s Day, more often than not.

It didn’t matter. Tom Porter was like something out of a dream. The only box he didn’t tick off in the Prince Charming checklist was the white horse, but that was okay because his Audi convertible was even better.

In fact, he was
so
perfect,
so
charming, that the first time she saw him, it had taken Jill several seconds to register that he was real.

And then several more seconds to register that he was talking to her.

It’s not that Jill thought of herself as unappealing. She knew she was cute, because people told her so. Note, never beautiful, or even pretty. Never gorgeous.
Certainly
never sexy. But cute. Sometimes adorable. Because that’s just what
every
thirty-three-year-old woman wanted to hear.