"Why the hell would I care about how you and your two-minute-man fucked in his car last night, Laura?" Joyeux; although she preferred to be called Joy, mumbled as she picked up the new dirty martini the bartender placed in front of her. She looked over at the man in question, whose eyes were narrowed and glaring at the side of Laura's head like he was trying to parse out if she'd really called him a two-minute man."You're such a bitch, Laura. Why would you say something so cruel?"

"Come off of it!" Joy sucked down the rest of her drink and stood to walk away, but the bar started spinning and the floor rose up to meet her face. Just before she embarrassed herself in front of her colleagues and a good portion of Boston's elite professionals, a large, familiar hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked her clear off the floor before she could register she hadn't hit the floor, after all. This is why I don't do corporate holiday parties.

"Joyeux Lovelace,  you're not usually so easily swept off your feet by a handsome man." Joy's face blazed upon hearing the smooth, baritone she thought had moved across the country with the beautiful man it belonged to. The same beautiful man who asked her to move with him with that decadent sex-god voice.

"Christian Noelle. What are you doing in my neck of the woods?" As she steadied herself, she dared to look into his hunter green eyes and not fall into them the way she fell in love with him three years ago.

"Where else would I have my wedding, if not at home?"

"Y-You're getting...married?"

"That's the plan. Hopefully, everything works out accordingly.  But you never know."

"Do I know her," She pulls away from the warmth of his large body  before clarifying, "Your fiancee?"

"Yes."