“Popeye wasflirtingwith you,” Beck said, her eyes wide.
“He was not?—”
“He absolutely was,” Samantha cut in. “I saw the whole thing.”
“So did I,” Beatrice Allen added. “That man is smitten.”
“He’s not... there’s nothing... we’re not...” I sputtered, my face growing hotter by the second.
“Nana has a boyfriend,” Pati sang from across the room, and I shot her a glare that could have melted steel.
“I do not have a boyfriend.”
“He called you ‘darlin’,’” Kytten pointed out.
“He calls everyone darlin’.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Grace said, appearing at my elbow with a knowing smile. “He only calls you that.”
“Grace—”
“It’s cute,” she said. “Really. I think it’s sweet.”
“There’s nothing sweet about it because there’s nothing happening.”
“Sure, Nana,” Pati said, setting out plates. “Whatever you say.”
I wanted to argue. To insist they were all wrong. But the truth was, I didn’t have a leg to stand on. Because Stephen had been flirting with me since the day we met.
Shamelessly.
Relentlessly.
And God help me, I liked it.
The party got underway, and I tried to focus on anything other than the knowing looks the other women kept shooting me.
We played games guessing the baby’s weight and decorated onesies. There was a ridiculous competition involving diapers and chocolate bars that had everyone in stitches.
Grace opened presents, exclaiming over tiny clothes and blankets and toys, her face glowing with happiness.
And through it all, I couldn’t stop thinking about Stephen. About the way he’d looked at me. Touched me. Promised me things I had no business wanting.
“So,” Maureen said, sliding into the seat next to me during a lull in the festivities. “How long have you and Popeye been... you know?”
“We’re not,” I said firmly.
“But he wants to be.”
“That’s his problem.”
Maureen laughed. “You know you’re fighting a losing battle, right, Trudy?”
“I’m realistic,” I corrected. “I’m sixty-eight years old. I don’t have time for games.”
“And I was forty-nine when Bennett was born.” Maureen’s expression turned serious. “Popeye seems like a good man, Trudy. Declan has a lot of respect for him. And the way he looks at you...” She shook her head. “That’s not a game. That’s real.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
