That disappointment made her chest ache a little, which was not acceptable when she had an excellent fancy coffee, and she didn’t have to hang out with her new mother-in-law and listen to Knox complain about the crepes.
“Can I get a ‘woot woot’?!” Irina did a shimmy shake. “We don’t have to have crappy crepes today. We’re going to Colorado.”
“I kind of want a crappy crepe, now,” Mach said. “But I’ll settle for Knox to leave the rest of his cookie delivery here from last night.”
“You got cookies?” Irina sniffed. She hadn’t smelled any cookies when she’d arrived.
“Fridge,” Tanner said. “Grab me a chocolate chip, yeah?”
Irina moved to the refrigerator and opened the door. There were lots and lots of cookies there. Boxes and boxes of Insomnia cookies. Mach did not lie.
“Did you buyallthe cookies in the greater Los Angeles area?” She turned her gaze to Knox.
He slowly lifted his gaze from her ass, up, up, up her body to meet her glance.
“I don’t believe in doing anything halfway,” he said, and the way he said it? She felt the need to slurp some vanilla latte.
“I beg to differ.” Mach pulled himself from the sofa, stretched, and…huh…he didn’t manscape at all. He had a good deal of hair on his chest. Funny, she used to think she didn’t have an opinion. But, now, she realized she totally preferred a manscaped chest.
Good knowledge for the future, after this marriage, if she decided to actually date someone again. That was going on the checklist.
Knox shrugged. “When it comes to cookies, I go all in. I take my cookies seriously.”
Then he sipped his coffee through the plastic lid—like Tanner—without even giving the full mouthfeel experience a chance.
“Knox, I know you’re in there, open the door.” A female voice, a voice she recognized from last night’s phone call, came clear as a bell through the metal-plated apartment door. The knocking, however, was not on this door. The knocking was on Irina’s door.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“No, no, no, no, no…” Irina bolted to the door and flung it open.
Too late.
The meeting of the moms was happening right there in the doorway of Irina’s apartment with Brayden in his socks.
Chapter Eight
KNOX
Knox wantedto use his body to block the gap so Mom couldn’t just strut on through without getting past him first, but Irina made it to the hallway before him, right into the line of fire.
He never enjoyed the staring-directly-into-the-headlights-of-an-oncoming-semi experience of his mother’s arrival.
He also had no idea how to make it stop. His neurons seemed to quit firing, his limbs wouldn’t move, and his blood pressure knocked into panic territory.
Today was a special kind of traffic accident because there was a naked guy wearing only socks and a fairly transparent sheet, a woman who sort of looked like Irina, and his mother, all crowded there together.
“Jeremy?” Mom took in the entire situation, looked to him, and then she cleared her throat. Mom was her usual self—makeup and hair that came from some salon, and a navy blue business suit with flat dress shoes that poked from the hem of her slacks.
He madethe mistake of stepping into the hallway to be closer to Irina, which made room for Mach and Tanner to join them.
“Uh. I feel like I missed something?” Tanner asked. A legit query, seeing as everyone was rooted in place.
“This is Knox’s mom.” Irina tilted her head in Knox’s direction. “And my mom.” She gestured to her mother. “And Brayden.”
Who was Brayden and where were his clothes and why was he in Irina’s apartment?
“I’m going to do anything else other thanthis.” Tanner took his three cookies, his coffee, and headed to the bathroom.
