That sounded about as much fun as walking across hot coals.
“Mom, I—”
“I have to go! Lawrence will be there soon.”
Well. Shit.
Had her mom just manipulated her? She didn’t want to think badly of her, but it certainly felt that way.
She guessed she better do her hair and put on something more appropriate . . . whoa, actually no.
She wasn’t going to do those things.
Screw her mom. She could take her as she was.
Messy hair, ripped jeans, and all.
“Hey, girlie! You nearly got run over, huh?”
She banged her head against the wall as Old Al’s voice came through the paper-thin walls, surprising her.
“Yep!” she replied as she rubbed her head.
“Don’t worry, Old Al does that all the time. Can’t see a thing anymore. The other day, I was trying to chat up this bird. She seemed real sweet. Tall and curvy. Turns out it was one of those trees lining the main street.”
“It’s okay, Old Al, that could happen to anyone.”
“Aww, thanks, girlie. Now, about this mother of yours . . . she a real honey?”
“She’s taken, Old Al.”
“Too bad. Old Al wouldn’t mind himself a real woman to warm these sheets. You change your mind on coming over here?”
“No, Old Al.”
“Shame. We could be good together, girlie. And I have some batteries for your vibrator.”
She couldn’t help but grin.
7
“Butch, I met your friend today!” Flick said as she sat on a stool at the kitchen island and swung her legs back and forth. Her baby bump seemed to have grown bigger all of a sudden. And she still had three months to go . . . but Butch thought that if she got any bigger, she’d probably topple over.
But he knew better than to say anything. They’d all learned that when Mia was pregnant. You had to be very careful about what you said if you wanted to keep your eating privileges. And Butch liked to eat.
“My friend? You’ll have to be more specific. I have lots of friends. I’m a popular guy.” He wandered to the oven, where Mia was pulling a tray of chocolate chip cookies out.
Yes! He loved chocolate chip cookies!
He reached for one, but she slapped his hand.
“Ouch, Mia! What was that for? I’ve been good.”
“Doesn’t matter how good you’ve been. These are for Seb’s baby class.”
“Why does Seb need a baby class? He already knows how to be a baby. He especially excels at the pooping part.” Butch shuddered. That boy sure knew how to clear a room.
“Hey!” Mia said, but her lips twitched. “It’s not a class on being a baby. It’s more for the moms. We meet up and talk about baby stuff. It’s on tomorrow morning in Haven. Seb, Flick, and I are going to meet Scarlett and the twins there.”
“Flick isn’t driving, right?” he asked, glancing over at the petite woman who was currently dipping bits of cheese in yogurt, then eating them.
Disgusting.
“I’m an excellent driver, Butch Malone!” Flick countered.
“You can’t reach the pedals anymore. And the last time you tried to drive, you fell out of the seat.”
“I was trying to climb into the truck, and those trucks are too tall. If I carried around a stepladder, I’d be all right. I might suggest that to West.”
Both he and Mia shot her a look.
“Right, I won’t mention it. He’d have a coronary. Do you know he’s babyproofing already? We have months before this baby will be able to crawl.”
“Babyproofing or Flick-proofing?” Mia asked.
“Babyproofing,” she said. “Wait, he did put a lock on the baby gates at the top and bottom of the stairs and refused to give it to me. Oh my God! That asshole is Flick-proofing.”
He hid his grin. Barely.
“Anyway, what were you saying about my friend?” he asked as he casually leaned against the counter. Surely it wouldn’t matter if he stole one cookie.
Mia shot him a look. Damn. She was onto him.
“Lara. The woman you’re going to that wedding with.”
“You’re going to a wedding?” Mia asked. “I didn’t know that. Who is getting married?”
“Lara’s sister, Emily. And she needed a date, or she’d be going alone.”
“And you’re helping her out? That’s so nice. So she’s a friend of yours?” Mia asked.
Flick licked her fingers. “Apparently, they only met Saturday night.”
“What?” Mia asked. “Where? Oh God, you didn’t sleep with her, then promise to go to a wedding, right? You didn’t mislead her?”
“What? No, of course not. I’m not an asshole. I didn’t sleep with her. She’s not my type.”
“Why isn’t she your type?” Flick demanded. “She’s gorgeous and sweet. A bit distracted and clumsy at times. But aren’t we all!”
He stared at Flick for a long moment, wondering at her passionate defense. “I know she’s gorgeous. She’s just . . . not my type.”
“You’ve never really dated anyone, so how do you have a type?” Mia asked.
“He had a girlfriend once,” Tanner said, coming into the room and kissing Flick and Mia on their cheeks.