“Hey, guys,” I said, rubbing them each down as they nudged me happily with their noses.
I had a woman, May, who came by to clean the house every other day, and she and her son looked after my dogs when I was away. Which lately had been much too often. I hated leaving them alone, but May’s son was eleven, and they loved getting the chance to play with him.
“Did you miss me?” I asked, laughing when they almost succeeded in knocking me over.
My phone beeped, indicating a text, so I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the screen.
Home?
It was from Reardon, so I texted back, yes, then stood and grabbed my bags to take them up to my bedroom. As I was walking up the stairs, he replied,
On my way.
It wasn’t unusual for Reardon to stop by, or for me to go to his and Chloe’s, so I put my phone back into my pocket without replying and kept on to my room.
After fifteen minutes, I’d unpacked, put everything where it belonged, changed into basketball shorts and a T-shirt, and was jogging down the stairs. The dogs started barking as I hit the last step and I knew Reardon had arrived.
Seconds later, the door flew open and Reardon dropped to greet the dogs just like I had.
“How was your trip?” he asked, not bothering to look up.
“It went really well, actually,” I replied. “How’s everything back here?”
“Same old,” was Reardon’s reply. “Although, I did get Chloe to agree to make the bridal/saby shower she was having co-ed.” He looked up then, his face conveying his excitement. “It’s Star Wars themed.”
I chuckled, not surprised in the least.
“So, no bachelor party then?”
“Nah,” Reardon said with a shrug as he stood to his full height. “I don’t need anything like that. Friends, family, and Star Wars sounds perfect to me.”
“Anything I need to coordinate?” I asked. I was Reardon’s Best Man.
He’d been Gabe’s, and Gabe would be mine. This was something we’d agreed on when we were twelve years old.
“Ah, I’m not sure, you can check with Zoey … or Laurel, I guess, since we’ve hired her to do the actual planning.”
I must have paused, made a face, or jerked at Laurel’s name, because Reardon’s eyes immediately narrowed on me.
/> “What was that?” he asked.
I walked past him as nonchalantly as possible and went into the kitchen.
“What?” I asked when he joined me as I got two beers out of the fridge, popping the tops and offering one to him.
“That thing when I mentioned Laurel’s name,” Reardon said, then asked, “Did something happen in Chicago?”
“There,” he said before I could reply, “You did it again.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I said, shrugging then taking a pull from my bottle. “Chicago was good. I made a lot of contacts, and she did too. It worked out for both of us.”
“You slept with her,” he stated, causing me to put my bottle down on the counter a little too hard and gawk at him.
“What?”
“You did, you totally slept with her. I can’t believe it. Huh, Laurel,” Reardon said, shaking his head with wonder. “I guess Serena was right…”
My head was reeling. How the hell? I mean, sure, Reardon was a lawyer, so he was intuitive and good at reading people, but was he a freaking mind reader?