“Really?” Josh says. “I didn’t know Peen had actual fans.”
“Are you kidding?” Kat says. “Keane was a star. Not only was he a lefty with a ninety-three-mile-per-hour fastball and a nasty slider, he knew how to play to the crowd better than anyone.” She addresses me. “Keane was about to get called up to the Cubs when he got injured. It was a crushing blow.”
My mind races back to the Climb & Conquer party three months ago, when I spotted that gorgeous hunk of man-meat on crutches standing next to Mr. Morgan. Wowzers. So that hunky guy was about to get called up to pitch for the Cubs? Yeah, he definitely looked like an athlete. “I saw Keane at the grand opening party,” I say. “He was standing next to your dad on crutches. Does it look likely he’ll be rehabbed and ready to pitch by the start of next season?”
“Oh, no, no, that guy on crutches wasn’tKeane—that was my oldest brother, Colby. He’s a firefighter. Colby had a terrible accident on the job earlier this year. He’s lucky to be alive.”
“Oh. Wow. How scary. I’m so sorry.”
“And, no, to answer your question, Keane unfortunately won’t be going back to baseball. He injured his pitching elbow and surgery didn’t go as planned.”
“Oh no,” I say. “I’m so sorry. Was Keane at the grand opening party? I don’t think I saw him there.”
“No, he said he’d come, but the loser didn’t show up. Typical. I’m sure he was too exhausted from shaking his ass for dollah billz the prior night to drag his sorry ass out of bed.”
I look at Kat quizzically, not sure I’m drawing the correct conclusion here.
“Keane’s a stripper,” Kat confirms, reading my mind. “Seattle’s answer to Magic Mike. And guess what his stage name is?”
“Peen?” I venture.
Kat giggles. “‘Peen Star’!”
“No, not anymore, babe,” Josh pipes in. “Peenie changed his stripper-name a few weeks ago. He’s ‘Ball Peen Hammer’ now.”
“What?” Kat says, laughing uproariously. “No.”
“Yup.”
“Why the hell did Keane do that to himself? That’s a ridiculous name.”
“He needed a new one. It seems your knuckleheaded brother had to go into the stripper equivalent of the Witness Protection Program.” Josh explains that Keane ran into “a bit of trouble” on the stripper circuit—something having to do with Keane “banging too many clients,” and my stomach revolts. What is it with hot men and meaningless sex? I truly don’t understand it. Isn’t there a hot guy on this planet who prefers to commit wholeheartedly to one woman at a time—andthen, shockingly, remain irrevocably faithful to her through good times and bad? Is that too much to freaking ask these days, for the love of God—that there beoneavailable man like that?
Josh continues: “But don’t say anything to Peen about his stripper woes, okay? I know you Morgans are ruthless when it comes to razzing each other, but, apparently, Keane’sreallyembarrassed about the whole situation and doesn’t want anyone to know.”
Kat pouts. “Why the hell do you know all this juicy family gossip and I don’t? You’re not even an official member of my family yet, and everyone’s already confiding in you more than me? I’m thoroughly offended.”
Josh laughs. “I only know about Peen’s troubles because when the shit hit the fan, he called Rum Cake for help and Rum Cake called me. So, of course, we got Henn involved and he saved the day.”
“Well, this I gotta hear.”
“Later, babe.” He motions vaguely to me. “T-Rod’s probably jumping out of her skin about the thousand-and-one things shethinksshe should be doing right now.”
I shoot Josh a snarky look that tells him he’s read my mind and he winks.
“And, like I say,” Josh continues, “Keane doesn’t want anyone knowing about his little stripper-Armageddon, so we’ll spare T-Rod the gory details.”
“I’m sure that’s for the best,” I say. “So, Kat, just a hunch, but I’m thinking your family kinda likes nicknames?”
Kat giggles. “Oh, you noticed?”
I laugh with her. “Which brother is ‘Rum Cake’? The older one on crutches or the younger one whose band is gonna play for everyone tomorrow night?”
“Neither. The second-oldest. I’ve got four brothers.”
“You’ve gotfourbrothers?” I say. “Wow. Well, I’m definitely looking forward to meeting all of them—and your entire extended family, too.” I look down at the time. “Which I’ll be doing in approximately twelve minutes when the Morgan bus arrives.” I shove my iPad into my bag and stand. “Shall we head to the lobby to greet the Morgans? If it’s okay with you, after you say some welcoming words, I’d like to tell everyone about the itinerary and make sure they download the app—”
“Actually, Tessa,” Kat says, cutting me off. She motions for me to sit back down. “There’s something Josh and I want to talk to you about before we head over to greet everyone.”
