“Oh my gosh, this cake is to die for. Can we buy a whole one?” Charlotte practically danced around in her seat. “Where is that bartender? I want to confirm what this wine is, too.”

Bridget grinned at her training partner’s perfectly made-up and coiffed wife. “So you’re enjoying this?”

“I’d been meaning to come here before Miss Potpie made her appearance, but we never got around to it. This is perfect. Wine and chocolate and little spicy nibbles—I love it. Now that I’m not nursing Jeanette, I can have all this yummy stuff. Ooh! Thank you!” Charlotte did a little clap as Cal swooped in to refill her wineglass.

“Would you like me to bring another bottle? Another whiskey for you, Bridget?” Cal, who earlier had seemed less than pleased when the ladies of DS Fight Club burst into the bar of Pickett & Spence, was now all genuine smiles as he suggested appetizers, dessert, and wine pairings.

“I’m not a big sweets eater, but this? Is fabulous.” Nanda’s eyes rolled back in her head. “Holy. Who the hell is this baker?”

“You didn’t tell them, did you?” Four sets of eyes swiveled to Cal, who grinned at Bridget. “Nolan made these cakes.”

“Nolan? The Nolan whom C just got to make up a bunch of healthy meal prep plans made this?”

“Watch it with that fork, lady,” Annie said and then laughed, dodging Nanda’s wild gesturing. “The Nolan whom I saw you smooching on in your kitchen?”

Cal quirked an eyebrow at Bridget, who felt her face grow warm.

Annie shrugged. “The windows on that side of the house are lined up. It’s kinda hard not to see in them.”

“Tell me about it,” Bridget mumbled into her wineglass.

“Oh my God.” Annie’s eyes popped wide. “Did you see . . . ?”

“Y’all make good use of that dining room table.” Bridget winked as the other girls hooted at Annie, who was grinning as widely as she was blushing. “But I’ve got to know—is that your name on his ass?”

“Oh Lordy, I don’t think I’m old enough to eavesdrop on this conversation. Y’all need refills, just holler at me.” Cal snorted and shook his head as he hurried away from the girls’ table.

Annie flushed an even darker red. “Maybe.” Then she snorted. “Oh my God, yes, it is. He got my name tattooed on his butt because he said I owned his ass.” She covered her face and squealed with laughter. “Damon would absolutely die if y’all knew that!”

“He doesn’t really like wearing clothes, does he?” Bridget mused as she swirled her whiskey around in her glass.

Annie laid her forehead on the table. “No, he doesn’t. He comes home and showers and then doesn’t put anything back on if he doesn’t have to.”

“And you like it that way, don’t you?” Nanda said with glee.

Annie nodded her head, laughing. “Yes, yes, I do.”

Charlotte burst out with her distinctive laugh. “Oh my Lord, I am never gonna be able to look Pierce in the eye again. Of course, Trevor’s the exact opposite.”

“The hat stays on?” Annie asked.

“The hat stays on,” Charlotte confirmed. “A lot of times, the boots stay on, too. And the belt.”

“Bailey needs to be here so she can give us the scoop on C. I bet he’s a wild man with a filthy, filthy mouth.” Nanda helped herself to a forkful of Annie’s cake. “Oh, that’s good cake, too. Damn.”

“Okay, Nanda. There has to be something about Mr. Dominic DiGiacomo that’s down and dirty.” Bridget took a swipe of icing from Nanda’s plate. “I know he’s Mr. All-American, but . . .”

Nanda looked around and motioned for the women to move closer. When they huddled around the table, she said, “Toys.”

“Toys?” Annie frowned. When Nanda made a buzzing noise, she giggled and blushed. “Oh, those kinds of toys.”

Bridget stuck up her hand and wiggled two fingers at Cal, who was talking with the hostess. Bridget recalled that Cal was dating the pretty blonde. She also remembered Nolan giving the woman some side-eye, but when she asked about her, Nolan remained closed-mouthed, which made Bridget like him that much more. Cal held up one finger and inclined his head in apology, and Bridget just nodded.

“If I’d known it was going to be smut talk tonight, I would have passed,” she said with a grin before yawning widely. Between the whiskey and the dessert, she was going into a sugar crash. “Jaysus, I’m a lightweight.”

“You ready to bail, lady?” Nanda was already punching at her phone, most likely texting Dig to come and retrieve them.  He, Pierce, and all the girls had shown up at Bridget’s. The boys had dropped the girls off at Pickett & Spence, telling them to let them know when they were finished.

Bridget nodded and swallowed the last of her whiskey. The women paid their tab, Nanda and Charlotte each securing their own cake to take home. They waved to Cal, who saluted the rowdy group, and then the women piled into the van and headed back to the fight club after dropping Charlotte at home. Pierce had walked Charlotte to her door, and as they drove off, Bridget saw Tig pick Charlotte up and carry her across the threshold.

She sighed and leaned her head up against the glass of the window. Her last night before camp wouldn’t be that much different from the last time she fought, only this time, she wasn’t married. That made the fact that she was spending it alone a little better and not nearly as humiliating.

They pulled up to Bridget’s house, and she, Annie, and Pierce hopped out of the van.

“Thanks, guys. This was a lot of fun. I appreciate your taking my lame ass out on the town.” Bridget frowned. Was she slurring?

“Anytime, lady. Take some aspirin and drink an assload of water, Bridg—you’re going to be hurting tomorrow.” Nanda grinned and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “See you on Monday.”

Pierce and Annie saw Bridget safely into the house before they walked next door to their home, and Bridget chuckled to herself when the house remained mostly dark. No more free shows for me. She took Nanda’s advice and drank a large glass of water, as well as taking two pain relievers, while she scrubbed her makeup off and got ready for bed.

She was setting her alarm when she saw a missed text from Nolan, asking her if she enjoyed the cake. She grinned in the dark. Nolan was a sweetheart. Probably too sweet to be truly interested in the likes of her. Impulsively, she called him. The phone rang three times, and then he answered.

“Hello? Bridget? Is there something wrong?”

“Uh, no. No, I saw your text, and I thought I’d call you, see what you were up to.”

“I was doing some reading and trying to relax enough to go to sleep.”

“I know what would relax you.”

She heard a soft chuckle from Nolan. “Yeah, I’m sure you do,” he murmured. “You doing okay?”

“I’d be doing better if you’d come over.”

“Oh, jeez. Yeah, that’s not going to happen, Bridget. You said yourself that we needed to cool it for eight weeks.”

“The fight’s not for ten, so two more.”

“Well, that’s a bummer, but it’ll be fine. Good things come to those who wait, right?”

“Waiting is overrated. I waited for Kevin, and look where that got me.”

“I’m sorry, Bridg.”

“I’m lonely, Nolan.”

“I know. I can tell. Another reason that my coming over isn’t a good idea.”

“You could feed me cake.”

She heard him sigh. “No, darlin’. As much as I would love to feed you cake, I think we need to stick to the plan, okay? Ten weeks.”

“Fine. I’ll guess I’ll talk to you sometime.”

“Bridget, sweetheart . . .”

“Oh, don’t fucking call me ‘sweetheart’; you know better than that.” Bridget knew she sounded petulant, and maybe even a little bit bitchy, but she really didn’t care. She was lonely and just this side of tipsy, and she’d give anything to feel Nolan’s strong embrace like she did the night before.

“Okay, fine. If that’s how you wanna be. Don’t ever call me again when you’re drunk. Desperation isn’t a good look on you. Good night, Bridget.”

Bridget heard the connection end, but she didn’t take the phone away from her ear for a few long moments. When she lowered the phone, she didn’t toss it aside; she just sat there in her dark bedroom and waited for the sun to come up.