POV: Florence
Dinner started easily enough.
My mother circulated around the table the way she always did, asking everybody what they'd been up to. Everybody answered honestly, the kind of honesty you only manage with people who've known you your whole life. She was in rare form tonight, absolutely glowing over Killian, not even trying to hide it. The way she looked at him reminded me of how she'd fawned over my brothers' first girlfriends, eager and warm and utterly charmed.
"I buy every single one of your magazines," she told him, practically beaming.
"Yes," my father added dryly, glancing up from his plate. "She has quite the collection."
Killian grinned, leaning back in his chair with that easy confidence that seemed to come as naturally to him as breathing. "And you're sure we're
