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“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

The gates opened and Boxer drove through them, parking Linden’s car next to us. He cut the engine and climbed out. Monk jumped across the console, onto the driver’s side and out the door.

“I guess that means we should go inside now,” I said, finally unclipping my seat belt.

When I was out of the car, Monk came over to say hello. He waggled his entire butt and rubbed up against my leg.

“Why are you guys still out here?” Boxer asked.

“Girl talk,” I said.

“Ah.”

“I don’t hear any music,” I said as we trekked up to the porch.

“Party’s over,” Boxer explained.

“Word of advice, though,” Linden said. “Make sure you peek around corners. People might be in a state of undress.”

“She means people might be fucking and you don’t want to see that shit,” Boxer said.

She elbowed him in his chest. “Crass.” To me she said, “But he’s not wrong.”

“Yeah, I got a little bit of an eyeful when I was here earlier,” I admitted. “Nothing crazy though.”

The living room was completely empty except for several red Solo cups, bottles of liquor and beer bottles. At least there were no naked Blue Angels and their partners.

“Do you want to see Slash’s room and hit the sack? Or did you need food? Something to drink?” Boxer asked.

“Ah, yeah, I could eat a little something,” I admitted.

“I’m hungry, too,” Linden announced.

“You guys sit, and I’ll see what we’ve got.”

I sat on the couch and Monk jumped up next to me. He put his paw on my thigh and nuzzled his face into my side.

Linden sat in the recliner and lifted the footrest.

Boxer opened the fridge and said, “We’ve got leftover Shephard’s pie.”

“Sold,” I said immediately.

“Double sold.”

We were quiet; the microwave buzzing through the room was the only sound. It finally beeped and then Boxer brought us our plates of food.

“Dig in,” he said. “Monk, you want to go outside?”

Monk launched himself off the couch and followed Boxer out of the room, down the hallway. A moment later, I heard the slam of the screen door and Linden and I were truly alone.

“How do you not look utterly wrecked?” I asked after swallowing a bite of food.

“I’ve spent years sleeping in on-call rooms in the hospital, waking up at the drop of a hat. You get used to it.”

“I like the early mornings. It’s quiet. But different than middle-of-the-night quiet.” I looked down at my belly and stole a hand across it. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”

The screen door shut, and Boxer came back into the living room. He perched on the arm of Linden’s recliner and then filched her plate of food.


Tags: Emma Slate Blue Angels Motorcycle Club Romance