She closed her eyes. Rooted her feet. Took three deep breaths. And let her mind flit over what exactly one would do with the bolster that would be even remotely comfortable during sex.
Maybe the cuddling Beast would know.
But given his size, she’d need to be on top because otherwise he’d probably crush her with all those muscles.
After she got done licking them?
Which, to be honest, really didn’t sound like that much fun. Not really. Though she’d lick ketchup off Jack nearly any day.
Which was a problem.
Definitely a problem.
A muddy as all hell-o problem.
“Can I talk to Beast?” She held her hand out. Her fingertips shook a little from fear of what this Beast might do to her with a yoga sex pillow, but they were just talking. He was a single man (she really hoped) and she was a single woman (much to her dismay) and they’d both swiped the correct direction (whichever that was). “I’m going to need another vodka tonic.” Maybe four of them. “Without the tonic.”
“On it,” Rachel said, heading toward the bar.
April skimmed the conversation Kitty had started. She’d said nothing and got him to say everything. Huh. She was great at this kind of thing. April held her hand up for a Kitty high five.
“You don’t have to say it,” Kitty said, all singsong.
“I’m not going to say anything,” April murmured, typing a question to Beast about his thoughts on yoga as fitness. To be honest, a guy who was totally committed to weight lifting was fine, but—
Her phone buzzed.
Jack’s face flashed across the screen, removing all thoughts of Beast and sex pillows and campfires.
Although…Jack would probably know what to do with the sex pillow.
“Hey,” she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Everything okay?”
“Uh-huh,” he said, “everything’s fine.” His voice held a note of panic that didn’t really have her believing that everything was, in fact, fine.
“Travis asked where Yelena keeps the laceration kit at her house?” Jack asked, again with a heavy dose of fear infusing his tone.
“Thewhat?” April shrieked. Then she wasn’t thinking of anything, because all she could see was Lola in the emergency room getting her forehead stitched up because April talked to a guy named Beast. “Which kid? What happened?”
That announcement got all the mom attention turned her way.
“No, not a kid. Travis was supposed to go left, and he went right and hit his arm on the… You know, that part isn’t really something we need to go into here. He mentioned that Yelena probably has a laceration repair kit we can use?”
“You can’t sew yourself back up,” April said, her voice getting pitchy.
“Did Travis ask for my laceration repair kit again?” Yelena asked with an eye roll. “Tell him downstairs bathroom under the sink, but if he needs the needle, he has to wait until I get there.”
“What did he do this time?” Rachel asked, hands on her hips. “I swear I should just buy stock in sutures.”
“But the kids are fine?” April asked into the phone.
“Yep, they’re all fine. But be careful coming in the house because I’m still trying to get the furniture polish off the tile in the entryway. And don’t worry about the cat, we caught Rohan before he put him in the dryer. Had a good long talk about how to properly dry a cat and why the dryer isn’t a good choice. He swears he won’t do it again. So I put the cat in your bedroom until you get back. Oh, crap—” There was an indistinct crash in the background. “Don’t worry. That was just Travis again.”
The hinge on April’s jaw seemed to be broken because she couldn’t get the thing to close.
“See you in a bit,” Jack said, hanging up.
Beast’s muscles filled the screen again. April stared at them. “Travis needs stitching up and”—she turned her attention to Simone—“I don’t have a cat.”
