“Well, I very well couldn’t call you my personal favorite nickname since you brought one of your detectives home with you.”
“I think I’d rather you call me Captain Underwear than Captain Crunch, regardless of who hears it.”
“Fucknugget! Fucknugget!” a blue macaw squawked loudly from the solarium.
“Cockbadger! Cockbadger!” a scarlet macaw fired back.
“Dirty Birds!” the two husbands yelled.
“Big Daddy!” the scarlet said sweetly.
“Good girl, Sassy,” the captain said.
“Slut!” the blue macaw squawked accusingly at his companion.
“Savage,” Josh said in a warning tone. Then he turned to his husband. “Have you noticed that those crazy-ass birds have stopped cussing in front of the kids? It’s like they know.”
“They’re crazy smart, Sunshine. I sleep with one eye open.” The captain looked around the living room with a frown on his face. “Where are my angels?”
“Our little monsters are spending the weekend with their grandparents. They’re staying with my folks tonight and yours tomorrow night. Two blissfully quiet nights at home,” Josh said with a happy sigh. I noticed the merry little twinkle that sparkled in his eyes, and I figured they wouldn’t be too unhappy if I ate my food and ran. In fact, judging by the looks the two men exchanged, they had forgotten I was in the house with them.
“Hey, good-looking. Want to suck my dick?” the bird Savage asked. I was pretty damn sure he was talking to me.
“Maybe some other time,” I replied.
“Gabe, you need to do something about your bird,” Josh told his husband.
To Josh, the captain said, “That’s your bird.” To me, he said, “I’m truly sorry, Elijah.”
“Please don’t apologize to me, sir. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“How about you drop the formalities and call me Gabe when you’re a guest in our home?”
“I can try, sir.” I grinned sheepishly because it seemed I would need to try a lot harder.
A timer buzzed in the kitchen and Josh announced it was time to eat. The captain hadn’t been lying when he bragged about his husband’s cooking. The country fried steak was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside. Not even my grandmother’s homemade gravy could top Josh’s.
“Sunshine, Elijah needs some help with figuring out who Thom Renzo’s next of kin is since his parents’ preceded him in death,” Gabe told his husband.
“I heard about that,” Josh soberly said, setting his fork down. “There has always been an air of mystery surrounding the Renzos. They moved here mid to late eighties. They never socialized much with anyone in town, so we don’t know much about them.” That was pretty much what Maegan had said word for word. “Your best bet would be to talk to the local attorney in town who handles ninety-nine point nine percent of estate law for the Blissville residents.”
I left the Roman-Wyatt house with a full stomach and the name and number for the attorney, so I called that a win-win situation. I tried not to look over at Maegan’s house when I pulled into the driveway, but I failed. I sat looking up at her bedroom window where a thin crack of light showed beneath the shade she pulled down for privacy. I wanted to knock on her door and find out how she was holding up. I suspected her annoyance with me stiffened her resolve long enough to get home, but worried that her shock and fear returned the minute that wore off.
I don’t know how long I sat there debating what to do, but I eventually squelched the desire to knock on her door. That was until I walked up my front porch steps and saw what had been neatly stacked by my front door. I should’ve been glad she returned my slippers and blanket when I wasn’t home so that we avoided any awkwardness, so why then did it feel like she kicked me in the nuts?
“Oh, I don’t think so, Freckles.”
