“I need to write Santa a new letter to ask for more games for us to share. Will you help me?”
“Sure thing. As soon as I’m done helping Avery, we’ll get your colored pencils and get right on that.” He smiles. Kaylie claps then turns to Eli and whispers, “Mason will help the elves. He helps everybody.”
Ever rolls her eyes and groans. I shove her shoulder with mine. “Sounds like Mason has made quite the impression on at least one of you.”
“Yeah, it’s not fair how she has him wrapped around her little finger. The two of them team up on me, and there’s no winning for me—ever,” she grumps.
“Are you sure it’s only Kaylie who has him wrapped around her finger?” I ask, pointing in the direction where Mason is now staring at Everly, giving her a look that is sure to melt any woman’s panties.
“Mason and I are just friends. We’ve known each other since we were kids. He likes to help with Kaylie and does things for me around the house or the shop sometimes, but we’re not … we’ve never …” She pauses, her cheeks flaming red.
“But you want to, don’t you?” I tease.
“I-ugh. I need to go check on things for tomorrow.” Ever rushes off down the hall and up the stairs where we’ll be staying for the night.
Andi comes up beside me with her shit-eating grin. “Those two will be fucking before the new year. I guarantee it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Andi smiles widely. “Because I know that look he’s giving her. It’s the same one my customers get when they see one of my pastries coming fresh out of the oven. Like they can’t wait to devour it, but they know they need to give it a little time to settle so they don’t get burned.” I nod. “It’s the same one your man is giving you over there. He’s been eye-fucking you all night.”
“You’re wrong there, my friend. Gabe has been avoiding me since he fucked my brains out against his wall, and I ran off to figure my shit out.”
“Well, have you? Figured your shit out, I mean?” She turns to face me head-on.
“I have, but now it seems he doesn’t want the same things anymore.” Andi scoffs.
“What?” I whine. “He was all over me. Chasing me with all his ‘you’re mine, grrr’ shit. But once he was done getting off, he went cold. What am I supposed to do with that, Andi? I’m too old to play teenage games.”
“Then play grown-up ones instead,” Andi says conspiratorially.
I toss my hands up, and whisper-shout. “I don’t even know what that means!”
“Ladies!” Andi calls out to the room. “I need to see the bridal party upstairs in the playroom for a quick meeting, please. I’m going to need some help with a few things tomorrow and would like to talk it through with y’all first. Liz, if you and Linzie wouldn’t mind keeping the kids down here for a bit, I’d appreciate the extra help.”
Every head turns our way, and all at once, they nod. “How about after dinner, Andi? Will that work for you?” Avery asks. “The men have been hard at work, and dinner smells delicious. I’d like to reward them with food first, if that’s all right.”
“I’ll eat my reward later,” Jake says, making Avery blush. “But dinner sounds good.”
“All righty then.” Andi chuckles. “Come on and get your food. Dinner’s ready.” She announces to the entire clubhouse. The men set down whatever they were working on. Lilah and Carter stop playing Pac-Man. Carter picks up the baby carrier with Emily sleeping inside and carries it over to where Skyler is seated.
He’s going to make an amazing big brother.
I watch as all the men gather their women and children and start to serve their families before they serve themselves.
Trevor was right. They are all about their families. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before.
“Why are you all meeting upstairs after dinner, Andi? And why am I being put on kid duty? Not that I mind watching the children, but what are you up to?” I ask, knowing my best friend as well as I do. She’s definitely plotting something.
She slaps her hand to her chest, the picture of innocence—which I know to be an absolute lie. There’s nothing innocent about my bestie. I know because I was there during all her felonious activities. Some I even prevented from happening.
“We’re just going to have a little discussion about tomorrow’s event,” she says sweetly. I cross my arms and stare at her with a raised brow because I know she’s full of shit.
“And?”
“And we’re going to do everything we can to help Mr. President make some decisions.” The way she says president—all breathy, like Marilyn Monroe—almost makes me break. But I hold in my laughter.
“Do I even want to know?”
