Of course, it was me and my big mouth that insisted on throwing him a twenty-fifth birthday party. I love my Bronson bear, but I also wanted to showcase my being a part of the Butcher household without actually coming out and saying it. Loudly. Proudly. So every fricking person in the District can hear and see.
Turning to look in another drawer, I take a step forward. I'm immediately jerked back, my wings snagged on a black chrome pantry handle. Laughing at myself, I pull my wings free, then riffle through drawer after drawer.
"If those white jeans were any tighter, I'd be concerned about your fanny dropping off from the lack of blood," Toni says to me from the other side of the breakfast bar.
A few days ago, I found the most beautiful sparkly white jeans at an op-shop. They are like Lycra on me, clinging to every curve. I'm wearing a white crop-top, fricking big white wings with sparkles and lace, and six-inch white stilettos. I have glitter smeared all around my exposed shoulders and over my exposed belly.
"Max likes my bum in jeans," I say whimsically.
"You seem to have settled in." When I hear Victoria's posh British voice coming from around the corner, my back stiffens.
Toni spins to face her, and I plaster a wide smile on my face when she appears. "Um, I've been here full time for a few weeks now." Not that she would know; she'sneveraround. Her head tilts as she bats her false lashes and smiles insincerely at me. Subtly and quickly, her eyes then scrutinise my body, stopping briefly at my exposed midriff before bouncing back up again to meet my gaze. I suppress a shudder.
She usually looks at me with disdain, but now that disdain has a tight red bow wrapped around it and is glued on with honey, probably from waspsshestung with the venom of her speech. And then ate.Ugh. I hate this woman. She hasn't even bothered to dress up for the event. She is in her usual body-fitted power dress. Nails long, red, and manicured as if she's never worked a day in her life. I wonder where this feigned nicety has come from.
Butch.
Yep, it must all be an act for him.
"You're not showing," she states softly. "That must be nice."
I glance at Toni and we communicate with our eyes -awkward.
"Actually, I can't wait to show," I admit proudly. The past few weeks have been close to perfect. I've been given a choreographer position for theNutcrackerproduction this year, allowing me to oversee my second while she trains for Sugar Plum. Max has only left at night once, returning soon after and in a great mood. He finished his research paper and submitted it this morning, which is one less weight on his shoulders.
Right now, though, Victoria's presence in front of me is like a looming toxic fog. I relax slightly when I see Xander approaching the kitchen, his joker makeup slightly warped from the heat. He's still handsome though. Even with the green hair and gash of red paint cutting his face in half. As Toni stares at him, his eyes go sleepy with complete, unabashed lust.
"Mum." Xander clears his throat as if the word was uncomfortable to say. "Dad is looking for you." I've never heard Max refer to her as Mum before. It saddens me to hear it from Xander, knowing he manages to find the term appropriate enough to use, when Max would probably rather cut out his own voice box.
Victoria tips her shoulders. "It's been so nice to catch up."
Balancing on the points of her stilettos with ease, she strides away from us, through the rear sliding doors, and out into the alfresco.
"She is terrifying and fabulous in equal measure," Toni mutters to himself.
I smile at Xander. He winks in return.
He's been the star of my pregnancy so far. He has somehow anticipated my needs over the last few weeks, knowing what steps Max should take, the things he needs to know and learn. He's given us books on parenting and always has something to say on the subject. But there is a rift between the two Butcher brothers. And although it's never been blatant in the form of an argument or discussion, it's apparent in Xander's obsessive need to please Max and in Max's curt response to anything he does.
"You aretoofine," Toni says to Xander without a care in the world.
Xander just grins. "Ah, cheers? I think."
Giggling at Xander's chilled response, I turn and start opening cupboards. "I need to find candles."
I hear Xander's laughter as he moves in next to me. "Can you scoot away? You’re going to poke my eye out with one of those things."
"Wouldn't want to do that. They are so fucking pretty," Toni coos.
"Oh my God, Toni. Leave him alone."
"You're getting dangerous to be around, ya know that Toni?" Xander says with a chuckle. Toni has been a frequent visitor since I moved into casa Butcher. Although they would never admit it, I think the Butcher boys kind of like the added dynamic. This house was all alpha male and testosterone. Now, though, there is little ol' me and my bestie sprinkling in the weird like wildfire.
Toni smirks. "You like danger, don't you, Xander?"
My cheeks pinch with a big smile as I watch Xander ignore Toni's blatant objectification. "One, you have a boyfriend. Two, he's straight. So leave Xander alone."
Toni plucks up a single perfectly tweezed brow. "I'm just enjoying the view, Golden Girl. I'm appreciating the effort that must go into creating that tight-"