Basil clapped and let out a whoop of agreement.
“Ignore the horned-up pregnant woman,” Frankie said with a dismissive wave. “Her taste is questionable.”
Ruby’s taste was spot-on. Jasper was objectively attractive. The shoulders, the tattoos, the round eyes and sharp jawline. There was a reason I’d taken him home last year.
But his muscles weren’t what I dreamed about when my head finally hit the pillow at night. Night after night, my subconscious would conjure images of him cradling Vincent or attempting to teach him aboutThe Lord of the Rings, despite this kid only now wobbly lifting his own head.
Or snapshots of his big, callused hands moving gently.
Which led to thoughts about how rough they could be.
And then I’d blush and give up the ghost.
Okay, I had a tiny crush on the man. So what? He brought me coffee and treats and soothed my screaming baby. Anyone in my situation would feel the same.
“You’re gonna marry him,” Basil declared, his chin lifted smugly.
Frankie gagged. “Ew, gross. I hope not. You can do better.”
After I’d been filled in on town gossip, we talked a little about the various books everyone had read and stuffed ourselves with yummy food. Basil and Etienne said their goodbyes close to midnight, and once they were gone, I got Vincent up to change his diaper and feed him. With any luck, once I topped him off, he’d sleep well and I could rest.
Frankie and Ruby were cleaning up the kitchen when I carried him to the couch, but the second he was latched, they pounced.
“We waited until the guys left,” Ruby said. “But it’s been almost two months, and we still don’t have details. So spill.”
“Yeah, we need to know how this”—Frankie nodded at the baby—“happened and if it’s in danger of happening again. We gotta protect you.”
“Or encourage you,” Ruby said with a wink.
Frankie crossed her arms and gave me a stern look. “Start talking, girlie.”
I looked down at Vincent, who was sleepily nursing, and my body relaxed. It did this at every feeding. Like, subconsciously, I was always afraid something would go wrong and he’d go hungry.
Oxytocin, the love hormone, flooded my veins as I fed him. I blame that for how easily I gave in to the inquisition of my friends.
“I’m surprised you’re not giving me a polygraph,” I joked.
“Polygraphs are for amateurs,” Frankie huffed. “You know I can get the truth out of you.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “Fine.”
That night all those months ago had been hot and sticky. We’d been drinking and dancing, and my heart was full. Ruby was getting married, and I was surrounded by friends. It was the kind of experience I’d been chasing when I moved to Maplewood.
“At your bachelorette party,” I started. “We were all dancing.”
Ruby reeled back. “How did I miss this?”
“You’d already gone home to Paul,” Frankie explained. “The rest of us went over to Timberline. They had live music that night.”
The Timberline Brewery, located on the outskirts of town, had a massive party barn that hosted events most weekends. The band that night had played folksy, bluegrass versions of eighties hits, and I’d stayed on the dance floor for hours.
“I was having a good time. We were dancing, and I just felt this desire. I wanted him. You know?”
Ruby whistled, her eyes glimmering. Frankie, on the other hand, scowled.
Desire wasn’t something I’d had a lot of experience with. Yes, I’d been attracted to men from time to time, and that kind of sensation, in my experience, had always grown from those feelings.
But with Jasper, I’d barely known him, yet I’d wanted him. And it felt so liberating.
