“You could, yes. But why would you? My baby boy’s getting married. I intend to be part of every step.”
“I appreciate it, Mom.” And that much was true. While he would’ve been completely content to elope, he knew Cindy and Iris were looking forward to a big wedding. And he suspected deep down Brantley was, too. For that reason alone, Reese was willing to jump through whatever hoops they put in front of him.
“I’ll call you later, Mom. Tell Hugh I said hello.”
“I will. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
When the call disconnected, Reese set the phone on the desk. As he was getting to his feet, Brantley was doing the same.
Before he could tell Brantley about the conversation with his mother, the man was smiling.
“How do you feel about full nude cabaret?”
Reese stopped walking. “Unless you’ll be the naked one singin’ show tunes, I’d say it’s a hard pass for me.”
Brantley smirked. “You want me to sing? Because I will.”
Reese chuckled. “Only if you’re naked.”
“That can be arranged. You just hafta say please.”
Knowing this was about to go down a rabbit hole, Reese redirected. “Did you find somethin’?”
“I found out where Toby likes to spend his time. Thought maybe we could swing by there. Talk to the manager.”
“I was thinkin’ we’d start with his house first.”
“We could do that, too.” Brantley frowned. “I’m sure the police have been by there already, though.”
“True. Doesn’t mean he’s not hidin’ out in a makeshift bomb shelter hidden in a secret compartment in his alien spaceship in the backyard.”
Brantley smirked. “He has one?”
Reese shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he did.”
They could swing by Toby’s, and if they were lucky, he’d be there, and their assignment would be complete. And if not, they could head over to the cabaret. At least it was early in the day. With any luck, everyone in the place would have their clothes on. And if not … well, it couldn’t be any worse than the mental image of his mother with…
“Oh, Jesus,” he muttered as he followed Brantley toward the stairs.
“Still thinkin’ about it, huh?”
“Just kill me now.”
Brantley’s laugh echoed all the way down the stairs.
Chapter Four
Jessica James stared out the truck window, willing her stomach to stop churning.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she muttered.
Baz’s head turned so fast it was a wonder she didn’t hear his neck crack. “Do I need to pull over?”
JJ sighed heavily, wishing it could’ve been that simple. “No. It’s not mornin’ sickness.”
Thankfully, she hadn’t been plagued with the type of pregnancy illness she’d read horror stories about. At fourteen weeks along, she’d figured it would’ve presented itself by now, so she considered herself lucky in that regard. Every now and then she’d get a little queasy, and admittedly, there were foods that the mere thought of turned her stomach, but no endless bouts of toilet hugging for her. Not yet and hopefully not ever.
