“Hey, cowboy,” Lyric says from the door.
“How come I can’t call you darlin’ but you can call me cowboy?” I point my tongs at her, grinning as I narrow my eyes.
“Listen, I don’t break the rules, I just make them,” she says, shrugging.
“This game is rigged.”
“Are you done pouting? Because I’ve put all the things I got from the store away, except for the buns. I left those on the counter. And I was going to go take myself a nap and then shower before everyone starts arriving. But if you’re not done pouting, I can give you a couple more minutes,” she says, then presses her lips together in an exaggerated manner to mock me.
“That will be all, devil woman.” I dismiss her with my tongs, shooing her back into the house.
She shrugs and retreats into the house. After she goes, I stare at the place in the door where she was standing for a moment, biting back a smile. Don’t… read into it. I’m smiling because she’s my friend and she’s funny. She’s also a little mean, but who cares? I like ’em a little mean. Keeps me on my toes.
Speaking of showering, I should also definitely do that before everyone arrives. On top of smelling a little like smoke, I swept the patio, watered the outside plants, and played fetch with Tater. That last one isn’t a reason I need to shower, but Tater sure appreciates its inclusion.
Almost four hourson the dot later, the first people arrive. Killian is, in fact, alone. And Banks shows up with a woman who’s definitely a model.
“Waylon, this is my friend Megan,” Banks says. “We were just on a book cover together.”
Called it. “It’s nice to meet you, Megan,” I say, shaking her hand. “Please, make yourself at home. Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, please. What’s on the menu?”
“Beats me. I did meat. Lyric did drinks. That woman over there with the scowl can hook you up.” I point out Lyric, who’s standing in the kitchen wearing a deepVbetween her eyes. “Don’t worry, she’s not really scowling. That’s just her face.”
Megan laughs, excusing herself and walking toward the kitchen.
“Well, she laughed at my joke, so I approve of her,” I say, clapping Banks on the shoulder.
“I already said she’s just a friend,” Banks says. “I am capable of having one of those, you know.”
“Killian, have you ever seen Banks have a girl who’s a friend?” I turn to rope Killian into the conversation, who’s been staring at his phone since he walked in.
“No,” he says, not turning his attention from his screen.
“Get off your phone,” Banks says. “It’s rude and she’s pregnant.”
“I’m just worried about her,” Killian says. “And I don’t know for sure she’s pregnant.”
“Anyway, try not to be too big of an ass to me tonight, please,” Banks says. “Megan knows Sienna, the photographer, and I’m trying to get in with her.”
“Why is this Sienna person so important?” Killian asks, having finally put his phone into his pocket.
“Because first, her photos have landed up-and-coming models on the map. Second, her photos sell for a shit ton. And third, despite trying to find one all over the internet, there isn’t a single photo of her posted. Not anywhere. And that’s weird.” Banks adjusts the collar of his shirt like a nervous tic.
“Are we late?” Darcy asks, stepping through the front door with Ridge behind her and Lou holding her hand.
“No, these guys just arrived,” I say, hitching my thumb over my shoulder as I step to greet them. “Hey, Lou Lou, Tater is probably in the kitchen near Lyric’s feet.”
Lou runs off toward the kitchen. If I know her—and I do—wherever Tater is, she will be tonight.
“Wait for me,” Darcy calls after her and steps around me.
Ridge’s shoulders drop as he exhales. Certain she’s out of earshot, he leans into the group of us.
“You okay, man?” Killian asks him.
Up to this point, he hasn’t told them what he’s doing tonight. Killian is never enthused about anything, and Banks would give him his standard speech about the institute of marriage and how it’s a trick and ask him if he’s sure like fifty-three times. I would chalk it up to him being young, but I’m pretty sure he’s just a dipshit.
