* * *
Jazz walked into the kitchen of the bakery and stared at me. I stopped flipping through a binder with magazine cutouts of awe-inspiring cakes.
“May I help you with something?” I asked in amusement.
“There’s a bright, shiny new car in the parking spot that belongs to you.”
“That’s my car,” I said.
“No. Your car is a piece of crap that barely runs. Is that a loaner while the flat gets fixed?”
“It’s not a loaner. And before you get all worked up over how I could afford a new car when I couldn’t even afford to go halfsies on our delivery van, let me explain—Slash bought it for me.”
“Slash bought it for you,” she repeated. “Why?”
“Because he didn’t like that I was driving a piece of crap, and he wanted me and the baby to be safe.”
“Your biker baby daddy bought you a car purely to keep you and his unborn child safe?”
I glared at her. “Don’t call him that.”
“What? Biker baby daddy? Why not? That’s what he is, isn’t he? You won’t date him even though it sounds like you’re dating. Actually, it seems like you moved right past dating and you’re like,committed.”
“Jazz, I’m one step away from losing my shit, okay? I know what this means even though I’m trying not to freak out.”
“Sorry. I’ll back off.” She paused. “Have you had sex with him in the car yet?”
“Jazz!” I snapped.
“Sorry, sorry.” She gestured with her chin to the binder. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for cake inspiration.”
“Why? We don’t have a catering gig lined up.”
I rubbed my temple. “Slash invited me to a surprise party this weekend.”
Her eyes went wide. “Did he?”
I nodded. “For Linden. She’s the doctor who saw me for my UTI and dropped the pregnancy bomb. She’s also engaged to Boxer—one of Slash’s Blue Angel brothers.”
“Ah.”
I peered at her. “What?”
“You’re going to a party with him. With his people. That feels pretty committed to me.”
I glared at her and picked up my cell. After unlocking the screen, I called Slash.
He answered immediately. “You okay?”
“That’s how you greet me?” I asked.
“Sorry. I just assumed… How was the appointment?”
“Fine. That’s not why I called either. Can I have Boxer’s number?”
“Why do you want Boxer’s number?” he demanded.