I worry my lip between my teeth, hoping and praying Zach and I actually are in agreement.
Her mouth drops open when I don’t say anything. “You two have discussed kids, right?”
“Well, not explicitly.”
“You haven’t talked marriage or kids? How is that possible?”
“How do you know that? You were chasing your baby daddy through the house with your shoe during that conversation.”
“My mommy hearing has already kicked in. I heard every word.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Uh huh. You’re just being nosy.”
“Nosy, concerned—it’s all the same.”
“Concerned? Why?”
“I dunno, Delia, because marriage and kids are big things to not discuss. Aren’t you worried?”
“About?”
“About not wanting the same things. How have you never discussed this before?”
“No. I don’t know. They’ve just never been important to us. I mean, to be fair, we did text for weeks without every knowing basic things about one another like age and job. We don’t function the way other couples do.”
See? Deep down you know you’re solid. You’re just a different kind of couple and you’re taking it slow.
“Everyone talks about marriage and kids, especially when they’ve been together forever like you two have.”
Okay, so maybe you’re the wrong kind of different.
“Not us.”
“Do you ever worry you don’t want the same things and all this time spent with Zach was for nothing?”
“It’s not nothing. Zach is…”
My eyes drift toward the backyard, where the three most important grown-ass men in my life are assembling a freaking slip and slide like they’re all teenagers and not in their late twenties (or thirties in Zach and Robbie’s cases).
He’s a complete nut. He does shit he’s way too old for and shit he’s way too young for. He still wears cartoon underwear for goodness’ sake. He’s a moron, but he’s my moron, and no time spent with him is ever wasted.
If he wants kids and I don’t, we’ll make something work.
If he doesn’t want to get married and I do, we’ll make something work.
Because that’s what we do—we make it work.
We’re Zach Hastings and Delia Devlin. We’re the duo of all duos. Nothing silly like marriage or kids is going to tear us apart.
I hope.
“Zach isn’t nothing, Zoe. He’s everything.”
She gags. “Spare me. Zach’s just a person, and people are replaceable.”
“But he’s my person.”
A smile creeps onto her face, because she knows I’m right.
I mean, not about Zach, but I know she understands because it’s the same for her and Caleb. He’s her everything. They’d make it work too.
Are Zach and I dumb as hell for not talking about our future? Sure, but it doesn’t make us any less happy right now, so who cares?
“I can’t believe you let those three morons try to man a grill by themselves.”
“Can none of you knock?”
Shep, Zach’s younger brother, and his wife Denny—who just so happens to be Monty’s twin sister—stride into the kitchen, their three-month-old son James sleeping soundly in his baby wrap.
“Where do you want the ice?” Shep holds up a dripping bag.
My brows slash together. Did everyone bring ice?
“Is that a real question, dingus?” Denny sighs. “The freezer, obviously.”
“Right, that makes sense. Sorry,” Shep mutters, making his way over. “Sleep deprivation and all that.”
It’s an excuse I’ll allow, because baby James has colic and I know the two of them are exhausted. Zach and I offered to take his nephew for a night last week and we slept a total of three hours…between the two of us.
It was a nightmare.
“How’s he doing?” I nod toward the sleeping angel.
Denny covers the baby’s ears. “Okay so far today. Sorry, gotta cover them so he doesn’t hear and then decide to not be so okay. I love the little guy, but I also love and miss sleep desperately. I wouldn’t wish this upon my worst enemy.”
“No, just random strangers at the Smart Shoppe.” Shep presses a kiss to his son’s head, and Denny swats at him, not wanting him to wake the baby.
“Denver Andrews!” Monty admonishes, and Denny glares at her for using the wrong last name. “Clark, whatever. I’m still getting used to it. You cannot be rude to strangers just because you’re tired. Our momma raised you better than that.”
Denny points to her son. “You try having this demon scream at all hours of the day and then once you finally lull him to sleep with the soothing movement of the cart, an old hag crashes into you with her freakin’ electric scooter, waking your baby up and refusing to apologize. Then talk to me about how our momma raised us.”
“You should have seen her.” Shep’s eyes widen at the memory. “She was angrier than when she was trying to push the demon out.”
“Don’t call our baby a demon!”
“You just called him that yourself!”
“32 hours of labor,” she reminds him. “I can call him whatever I want. Right now he’s an angel—my angel.” She gazes down, pressing soft kisses to said angel’s head. “Isn’t that right, Bucky Jr? You’re Momma’s little Winter Solider, huh?” she coos.
“See, it would have been a good name,” Shep mutters bravely.
Denny glares him. “Stop talking.”
He smooshes his lips together, trying his hardest not to laugh at his exhausted wife. “Yes ma’am.”
“Ugh. Go somewhere else before I maim you.”
A laugh bubbles out of him, but he’s smart enough to move out of her reach, heading toward the back patio to join the other meatheads.
“’Sup, nerds?” he says, pushing open the door. “The hot one has arrived.”
They all groan—rightfully so—then Zach hands him a beer.
I smile at the interaction.
Despite growing up close, there was once a time when Zach and Shep pretended the other didn’t exist. I mean, it was completely justified, what with Shep sending a nude photo of me out to all his baseball friends. It’s taken a lot of effort from all parties involved, but we’ve moved on and have forgiven him for his past mistakes.
When Shep and Denny found out they were pregnant shortly after they began dating, they ran off to Vegas and got hitched without telling anyone.
A month later, they lost the baby. Shep needed his brother, and despite Zach still being angry, he was there for him through it all. With time—and a few fistfights—the boys rebuilt their relationship from scratch, and things between Shep and me fell into a natural rhythm as a result. We’re not tight by any means, but I don’t hate him anymore.
Besides, he gave me an adorable little nephew to fawn over. I can’t stay mad at him forever, not when James is so perfect…you know, despite the colic and not letting me sleep thing.
“I want to strangle him, but I love that idiot,” Denny says dreamily, leaning against the counter, adjusting James on her chest. She grimaces at the shuffling. “God, my back is killing me.”
“Oh goodness, where are my manners?” Monty pushes up from the stool. “Here, take my seat, Denny.”
“No, I’m good. If I sit, I sleep, and I don’t want to miss the big party today.”
“Big party?” I laugh. “It’s just a barbeque. We don’t mind if you sleep.”
“I’m fine. Promise. Sit back down, Monty.”
Monty points between the chair and Zoe, and Zoe shakes her head.
“I’m good. It’s kind of uncomfortable to sit on those things.”
Denny points to James. “Trust me, sit now while you can.”
Zoe laughs. “If you change your mind and want to nap and take advantage of free babysitting, I’ll take him. I could use the practice.”
“We’ll see how I’m feeling in a few hours.” Denn
y yawns. “I might take you up on that. By the way, before I forget, Allie and AJ wanted me to extend their gratitude for the invite, but they won’t be making it. They’re in fucking Belize for the week.”
“Belize? Good lord. How is that even possible?”
“Shep.”
“I wish my best friend would pay for my vacation.” Zoe crosses her arms over her chest, pouting my way.
Denny chuckles. “No, for signing Shep to his team for the next three years. He’s making waves as his new agent. They’re loving working together.”
“I still can’t believe Shep went into that deal with him.” Zoe shakes her head. Caleb and AJ spend a lot of time together at the community center, AJ helping run it when he’s not off signing multi-million dollar contracts, apparently. “AJ’s greener than green, and those idiots managed to make the deal of the century.”
“Hey.” Denny shrugs. “He almost talked his high school girlfriend into marrying him…while still in high school. Dude has major moves.”
“I’ll give you that, but still.”
“Does this mean we get free tickets to the games?”
“Montana! You greedy little snake!”
“What?” Monty blinks innocently. “Baseball pants are hot.”
“I’m so telling Robbie you said that.”
“Go for it.” She lifts a shoulder. “He’ll just go out and buy some then rope me into some weird roleplay.”
“Roleplay? Spill!”
I push away from the stool, plugging my ears. “Nope. No. Robbie’s like a brother. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m gonna go check on the morons.”
3
“Dude, I’m telling you, just dump some beer on it. We’ll slide down so fast it’ll make your head spin.”
“No, no.” Caleb shakes his head, disagreeing with Robbie. “We need water. The beer is just going to make it sticky.”
“But the beer will also make it taste better.”
“Why the hell are you drinking the water?” Zach asks, pushing those sexy-as-fuck glasses up his sharp nose. “What if someone farts on their way down? You’ll be drinking their fart water.”
And there goes his sexiness factor, right out the window.
“I swear to god, if anyone farts and ruins this slip and slide, I’ll punch you all,” Shep vows.
“You can’t command us not to fart. That’s not how assholes work.”
I blink twice at the scene in front me, listening to these dumbasses talk about farts.
The shirts have come off and two empty beer bottles sit by the cooler as Shep and Caleb work to get the slip and slide set up. Robbie’s trying to get the hose to work. Zach’s standing in front of the grill, still wearing his apron over his chest—which, for some reason, is now shirtless—spatula in hand as he watches the scene play out in front of him.
I have no idea what’s going on.
“I can’t believe any of you are in relationships.”
“Even me?” Zach grins, spinning toward me, sauntering my way and wrapping an arm around my waist.
“Especially you, Mr. Fart Water!”
“Ha ha. She thinks you’re dumb.” Robbie tries to spray his best friend with the hose, and when it doesn’t work, he turns it on himself, dousing his own face.
“Don’t worry, I think you’re dumb too.” I wink at him.
“What’s up?” Zach shuffles the aluminum pan sitting on the side table attached to the grill. Huh. He must have brought that out before I came downstairs. “Need something?”
“Just came to make sure you boys didn’t need help with anything, but I can see you have it all under control out here.”
“Yep. Plenty of fart-free water for the slip and slide, got the meat frying, and all that fun stuff.”
“Frying?” I give him a what the fuck look. “It’s called grilling. Even I know that.”
“Right, grilling. Whatever. Same-same diff.”
“Yeah, Delia. Same-same diff,” Robbie echoes.
I groan at the saying, having heard it way too many times over the years. “Remind me again why you decided to have a barbeque and invite people over?”
“Because you love us,” Caleb offers.
“I love one of you.”
He gives me a cocky grin. “It’s me, isn’t it?”
“Are you forgetting she dumped you? It’s definitely not you, dude.” Robbie shakes his head then puffs his chest out. “It’s clearly me. I’m the handsomest.”
“Not that I’m throwing my hat into the ring or anything because we all know I’m a dick—and have the biggest dick, just so we’re clear—but I want to clarify that I’m the handsomest.” Shep shoots me wink. “We all know it too.”
“How many beers have you idiots had? Clearly she loves me the most.” Zach smiles smugly. “Right, baby?”
“I have no idea why you’re all debating this. I obviously meant Marshmallow.”
“Gasp! And leave out Graham Cracker and Milk Chocolate? You’re a terrible goat mom.”
“What can I say? Marshy stole my heart first.”
“Before me?” Zach presses.
“Especially before you,” I tease.
“I’d pretend to be offended, but I can’t blame you one bit. He is adorable.”
“Indeed. But can you tell me why our goat is wearing a bowtie?”
I feel Zach stiffen for only a moment before he relaxes and throws me a grin. “Because he’s minding his own business.”
“Right. None of my business.”
I look out at the scene in front of me: three of the best guys I’ve ever met, trying to get a slip and slide operational.
Idiots.
“We did a good job with them, you know.”
“The goats?”
Zach chuckles softly. “Them too, but I was talking about the guys. Can you believe they’re all so…grown up? I mean, Caleb’s going to be a dad. Robbie’s getting married. Shep’s married and has a kid. It’s crazy how far they’ve all come.”
Grown up. Those two words stick out for me. Is that how he sees them, as grown up? And because of marriages and babies?
Then where does that leave us? Are we just two kids playing house?
“Crazy,” I say quietly.
“Hey.” He shakes me. “Everything okay?”
No. I think I want to marry you, but I don’t know if you want to marry me and I’m way too chickenshit to say anything about it and the last thing I’m going to do is bring it up in front of our friends.
“Yeah, of course.” I smile. “Everything’s great.”
His eyes bore into me, like he’s trying to read me, and my heart rate picks up. It’s hammering so hard, I’m certain he can hear it, and I’m not ready for a serious conversation right now.
Shit shit shit.
After what feels like hours under his heated gaze, his lips stretch wide into a smile and he pecks a kiss to my forehead. “Just checking. You ladies doing okay in there? Hot dogs will be done in a bit.”
“Hot dogs?” Now it’s my turn to eye him because I am almost certain he told me he was making burgers.
“H-Hot dogs? No, no. I meant burgers.” He smiles, but his lips waver. “My bad.”
“Right. Did you happen to plan out this barbeque of yours at all? Buy any snacks for appetizers? I have a pregnant chick in there, you know. We can’t go without provisions for too long unless you want one of us girls to eat the other.” Before a comment can be made, I throw my hand up and slide my eyes toward the lawn. “I swear to god, Robert, if you make one joke about eating pussy, I will twist your nuts off.”
Robbie snaps his mouth closed, and Caleb snickers at the reprimand before I turn my fiery gaze to him. His back goes ramrod straight and he sobers up, averting his eyes like the smart man he is.
“Snacks are in the cabinet next to the right of the fridge,” he tells me.
“I snuck out of the house this morning while you were napping and grabbed everything we’d need.”
My mouth drops.
“You knew I was napping the whole time?”
“Yeah. Why else would I leave you alone for two whole hours? Because I’m nice? No way. You know I get bored too easily and would want attention.”
I press a kiss to his lips. “Exhausting,” I whisper against his mouth.
He tightens his grip on me, smashing my body tight against his. “You said that last night too.”
Shoving at his chest, I laugh at his attempt to show off in front of the guys. “We didn’t even bang last night.”
“We did in my dreams, baby.”
“I’m going back inside before I make you start digging your own grave.”
“You’d make him dig his own grave? Damn, girl. I like your style,” Shep says, impressed.
“Just make sure your kids are in their house before you start slipping and sliding all over the yard,” I remind him, pulling open the door and giving my hips an extra shake because I know he’s watching me.
He gives a low whistle, and I slide the door closed, laughing at the dork.
Maybe we haven’t lost our spark at all.
“Sixty minutes! Pay up!”
Groaning, I push off the couch, grabbing my purse from the console next to the front door and pulling out a twenty.
The girls were all lounging in the living room when I came back inside, watching the boys act like morons. Naturally, a bet was placed. I was team broken bone within the hour, while Denny gave them the benefit of the doubt.
I lost.
“Lucky brat,” I grumble, sliding the bill into her waiting hand. “Watch, it’ll happen within the next ten minutes now.”
“Wanna bet?” Denny winks, and I stick my tongue out.
I toss my purse back onto the table and reclaim my comfy spot on the couch.
Zoe nods toward the backyard. “What’s on the menu for this shindig?” She rubs at her growing belly. “Someone’s hungry.”
“Burgers—or maybe hot dogs. Even Zach’s not sure.”
“Not sure as in he can’t tell them apart? Because if that’s the case, we need to have a chat, and not with him. I mean with you, ’cause your boy is dumb as hell.”
“I don’t know what’s up with him. I was hoping for a lazy day—no offense to any of you ladies—but here we are hosting a barbeque I knew absolutely nothing about.”
Texting (The Complete Series Page 90
