Jon opened his mouth to speak, but Lucy settled a hand on her husband’s shoulder and beat him to the punch. “Can I be honest with you?”
Zac nodded; he knew that of all the people in their group of friends, she would be the one to be honest and gentle.
“You’re super slutty—”
“Slut shaming? Really, Luce?”
“Let me finish,” she scolded. Wow, she already had that mom voice thing figured out. “It’s no mystery that you get around, and really, that’s cool. You do you.”
“I’d rather do others, but—”
“Can you take this seriously?” Jon grumped.
Zac flitted his eyes to his friend, whose brows were pulled so tightly together that they almost made a giant unibrow in the middle. But surprisingly, there wasn’t judgement there. All that marred Jon’s bearded face was exhaustion and barely contained worry.
“Sorry. Go on,” he mumbled sheepishly.
Lucy nodded and continued. “We don’t care what you do on your own time. Bang the whole town—make sure to wear protection of course. And get tested from time to time.” She rushed on at her husband’s throat clearing. “The point is, we need someone to take this journalist around and be a professional representative for the company. No flirting, no kissing, and absolutely no appearances of your trouser snake.”
“Jesus!” both men scoffed. Jon rubbed a hand down his face while Zac threw back his head, chuckling.
Lucy continued, “If you think that is something you can manage, then we are asking you to step in for Jonathan this week.”
Of course he could do it. How hard could it possibly be to keep his hands off of one woman? He cut back a lot since he’d made a fool of himself at Jon and Lucy’s wedding. Taking a good look inward had been uncomfortable, and while he hadn’t gone cold turkey, he was definitely in the middle of turning over a new leaf. Zac knew he could take this seriously, and after that, they would be so impressed that they would have to let him take over once Lucy had the twins.
“I can manage.” Zac sat up straight and caught Jon’s eyes. “You can count on me to be professional and keep my hands to myself.”
The two men—brothers not by blood but because of circumstance—stared each other down until finally Jon said, “Good.”
“Good.”
“Great,” Lucy said while expelling a relieved sigh. That sigh morphed into a yawn as she stood. Her husband shot to his feet and settled one hand at her waist while the other supported her elbow. She gently shooed him off with a smile. “I’m going to bed.” She kissed Jon then turned to Zac with a wink. “Thank you.”
Taking that as his cue to head home, Zac strode to the door. “I promise I won’t let you down,” he said over his shoulder to his friend, who followed closely behind.
“I know you won’t.” Jon smiled sleepily. He pulled out his phone and pressed a couple buttons on the screen. Zac’s phone chimed in his pocket and he looked quizzically to his friend. “I forwarded the email string fromRock ‘n’ Ropesand let them know you’d be my proxy. All the details are there. The journalist’s name is Claudia something or other. Frankly, with how tired I am, I’m impressed I remembered that much.”
Zac said his goodbyes and pulled up the cc’d email containing an introduction and brief explanation that Zac would be taking over. He grinned as he realized his friend had drafted the communication before they’d even had the conversation.
There was no way he was going to let Lucy and Jonathan down.
Chapter seven
Monday morning: Tabitha
“Tequilawillkeel-ya,”Larkteased as Tabitha hovered over her egg-white scramble. “Reason number forty-three why I quit drinking.”
Waking up with a mild hangover, Tabitha had been craving a chicken-fried steak but settled for the leaner option, convinced the grease would make her feel crappier than she already did. But as she scooped up a forkful, the sulfuric egg smell seemed magnified and she struggled to take a bite.
Put good in, get good out.
Her father’s words rang loudly in her mind and she cursed herself for not heeding the mantra last night. She hadn’t overdone it by most people’s standards, but when someone who rarely drinks throws back three consecutive shots of the cheap stuff it’s bound to end badly.
It was good to see you again, tabby cat.
She shoveled a mindless bite into her mouth, scolding herself for the out of character emotional reaction she’d had seeing an ex after so many years. One look paired with that deep, raspy voice of his and suddenly she was twenty-two again. But instead of a lean, clean-shaven twenty-year-old boy, he’d morphed into a solid beast of a man. Complete with an unruly beard and so many tattoos added to his collection. Tabitha could have drunk him in all evening.
A gulp of burnt coffee scalded her tongue but managed to wash away the particularly pungent taste of her breakfast. She eyed Lark’s plate with envy. Was it too late to get that chicken fried steak? Her roiling stomach answered for her.
