In the kitchen, she moves around efficiently, setting up a pretty tray of teas and shortbread cookies that could be laid out at a hotel. She pours me an herbal ginger peach that’s caffeine free. I wonder if Trick said something to them about the pregnancy.
“You’re a professional dancer, right? I saw you perform at the renovated Langston theater. You were fantastic.”
She beams. “Thank you! Yes, a dancer. But also the co-president of a production company. We’re new. Our first show opens off Broadway in four months. You’ll love it. Everyone will. It’s amazing.”
“Morning,” a deep voice says.
Turning, I nod at Connor McCann whose hair and beard have been buzzed shorter since the party. He’s wearing black shorts and a tank top, and his muscles are huge. He’s probably only a couple of inches shorter than Trick, but he looks stockier because of his build.
He looks at the empty coffeepot and turns to go.
“Wait,” Zoe says, touching his arm. “Almost ready. Couple minutes at most.” She pours freshly ground beans into a French press.
C looks at his phone, scrolling through messages. He pauses on one, then looks at me. “Is Trick up?”
I shake my head.
Dropping his gaze, he sends a couple of texts, then puts his phone in his pocket.
Zoe presses a button and Motown music plays. Her hips dance as she makes and then pours coffee for Connor.
“Hey,” Trick says, coming in. He’s dressed again in the jeans and t-shirt, and his hair is mussed. Even rumpled, he’s the most beautiful person in the room. Though Zoe’s rocking booty could win some special prize of its own.
Zoe smiles and rolls her eyes as she pours coffee into a mug for him. “You’ve got Trick timing as usual.” She looks at me with a smirk. “Trick always seems to walk in right when something he likes to eat or drink is ready.”
“Gotta keep up my all-knowing rep.” His gaze lands on the Sprite can, then returns to me, appraising.
C picks up his cup and takes a swig. “I texted the kid, Hornsby, for something. He said he’s in Dorchester working on something for you?”
“He’s almost done. Does something need to get done right away, C? I’ll do it,” Trick says.
“No, it’s not for you. I’ll get one of the other guys to do it. Hornsby used the word off-books. What the fuck’s he talking about?”
“It’s not crue business.” Trick dunks a cookie in his coffee. “He didn’t have anything going. Derrick either. So they ran an errand for me. I told them not to log it, that I’d pay them off-books.”
“You and I had this conversation with Anvil, did we not? I remember you and I agreeing and convincing him. So, what the fuck?”
The words are said casually, so I can’t tell if the curses mean he’s really angry or just annoyed. That’s the trouble with career criminals; their low-key reactions to things can’t be trusted.
“I guess…” Trick takes a swig of coffee and grins. “When you get to the gym, tell ‘Vil I’m a hypocrite.”
“Jesus Christ,” C says, setting his mug down with a clatter. “Walk with me.”
Trick follows him out.
Zoe laughs softly, pouring coffee into two more mugs. “Are you ready to be married to that? A guy who breaks even the rules he makes himself? And then is so cute about it you can never stay mad at him? You’re going to have your hands full.”
Tilting my head, I wonder if she’s right. What transgressions will he expect me to overlook because he’s handsome and charming? The other reason he won’t expect a fuss from me is that the marriage is a sham, an eighteen-month booty call because I’m pregnant. That thought bothers me a lot.
“Things with him are always complicated. We’ll see how it goes and whether things last.”
Perfectly plucked brows rise. “Whether things last?” Sipping her coffee, her gaze remains on my face, scrutinizing it. “I know girls who would scrub every floor in this housetoplessfor the chance to catch Trick’s eye. I get daily texts begging me for invitations to hang out anywhere he’ll be—dinner, a party,jail. If you’re not sure you want him, especially considering the huge second chance he’s giving you, maybe give back that gigantic ring and move on.”
I sigh and stand, wanting to tell her there are things she doesn’t understand. But then I realize maybe she understands just fine. Maybe I’m the one who needs to sort out my priorities as she’s suggesting. “Trick inspires a lot of loyalty. He’s lucky to have such good friends looking out for him.”
She frowns, but says nothing to stop me from leaving the kitchen.
I rub my temples, feeling terrible about alienating the only one of his friends who was making an effort to be inclusive. Pressing my lips together, I climb the stairs, not sure why I’m even going back to the guest room. It’s unsettling to be unwelcome and disliked. It’s never happened to me before. I’ve been on various teams and have worked different places, always with lots of friends. I hate the way C Crue’s distrust makes me feel. Although, grudgingly, I know it’s my fault. I accepted an FBI assignment that’s focus was to get evidence against them. I doubt I’ll ever get anything but cool disdain or outright animosity from Connor McCann.
