“Tell us something we don’t know,” Bayliss told me.
I watched as a male figure with his back to us stood between Bailey and Collins. “Who the fuck is that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”
“Calm down,” Brewer advised as the guy moved along. “They out here ready to murder a brother just for standing too close to their women.” He pretended to be talking to Blossom, who babbled back at him like she understood.
“How’s the bed and breakfast coming along? Bailey still on schedule?”
My eyes met Bayliss’s. “Yeah. I dispatched a crew over there. I felt like she was getting overwhelmed, but she wouldn’t say it. Once they took over, I noticed an immediate change in her demeanor.”
Bayliss nodded. “Alisha did too. Good looking out. I’ve noticed that those Kingsley women don’t like to ask for help.”
“You basically gotta strong arm ’em into accepting it,” Beckham added.
“You hear that, little mama?” Brewer gave Blossom a noisy kiss on the cheek. “You’re half Kingsley. Some nigga ever try to strong arm you into anything, he’s gon have to see me.”
“And me,” I seconded.
“And me,” Bayliss added.
“That’s if there’s anything left of him after he sees me,” Beckham said.
“Anyway,” I said, “Bailey planned the soft opening for the last Saturday of the month. She wants to have it before the Fall Festival preparation starts. No overnight guests. Just the opportunity for people to tour the space and taste food from the chefs she hired. She got this husband and wife team outta Chicago. They make upscale twists on classic soul food dishes.” I shook my head. “People are gonna come for the food alone.”
Brewer lifted one eyebrow independently of the other.
I laughed. “Come on, man. I ain’t saying they can outcook you. It’s apples and oranges. You’re still that dude when it comes to cheffing.”
“You better know that shit.”
“Clowns.” Bayliss shook his head at Brewer and me. “Looks like the flower class is wrapping up. I’m about to grab my wife. Dad’s expecting us over at the food area. Says we’re his sous chefs while he’s on the grill.”
“Yeah, I need to start heading over that way.” Brewer attempted to hand Blossom back to her dad, but I intercepted my niece and pulled her into my arms.
“Let’s go see your auntie Bae-Bae,” I cooed.
Beckham handed me the backpack that was his version of a baby bag. “Give that to Coll. Tell her that I’m helping Dad with the barbecue for tonight’s cookout.”
I nodded. “Tell Dad that I’m on the way.”
The four of us split up with me heading toward where Collins and Bailey were taking off the gloves and smocks they’d worn for the flower arranging class. When I reached them, Bailey threw her arms around both me and Blossom.
Since the night we first had sex in Chicago, she had leaned into the idea of us. I wasn’t sure she would, because her life was so heavy before that. She surprised me, though. She said that she’d spent enough time living and loving scared. She was ready to just live and love. She would deal with the consequences.
Shit, I wasn’t complaining one bit, because I was the direct benefactor of her decision. And I enjoyed it to the fullest. Once she let herself be free, she became the epitome of homie, lover, friend. There wasn’t a person on Earth that I wanted to be around more than I wanted to be around Bailey.
“Hey, love,” she said to me before turning her attention to our niece. “Hey, pretty mama,” she crooned to Blossom before taking her from me.
“Hey.” I held out the backpack to Collins. “Your man wants me to tell you that he’s with Dad over by the grills.”
Collins smiled happily. “I guess that’s my cue to head over there.”
I shook my head playfully. “Lovestruck ass.”
She giggled. “Right? I am so in love with your brother. My man. My man. My man.”
“He’s a lucky dude, sis,” Bailey insisted. “Only dude luckier is Bayliss.”
