“Oh my God, that baby is so friggin’ cute! I could just eat her up with a spoon.” Nanda shook her head. “It is criminal how cute she is.”

“I think someone’s got baby fever,” Annie singsonged with a grin.

“I’m not even going to deny it. I am thirty-eight years old, and my ovaries are screaming at me.”

“She looks just like C,” Bridget mused. “Not only the hair and those eyes, but all of this.” She made a circle around her face. “That baby looks just like him. I find it very amusing.”

Nanda snorted, but Annie nodded. “She does. I thought I was the only one who thought so. I’m glad you do, too. She’s adorable, but yeah, she looks just like her daddy.”

“Speaking of daddies . . .” Nanda leaned back and crooked a finger at her husband, who grinned and began sauntering over.

“Oh my God, you did not just call Dig ‘daddy.’ ” Bridget pressed her fingers against her eye sockets. “Pass the brain bleach. And besides, I thought this was going to be a mini-GNO. So that means no penis-people.”

“Hello, I’m sitting right here.” Ryan Richards, DS Fight Club’s cutman, glared at Bridget. “I’m a penis-person.”

“You’re different. You’re a penis-person who likes penises. Penii. What’s the plural of ‘penis,’ anyway?”

“Penes is the proper plural of ‘penis.’ Wow. That’s a lot of p’s.” Ryan snorted. “Oh my God, I have been up too long. I think Papi needs to take me home and put me to bed.” Ryan looked around. “Where’s Junior?”

Bridget laughed at the horrified look on Nanda’s face.

“Did I just hear you call my brother ‘Papi’? I did, didn’t I?” Nanda made fake retching noises before cackling. Ryan just shrugged and grinned, his smile growing wider as his boyfriend looped an arm around his chest and smooched his bearded cheek.

“You ready to go, chulo? You look like you’re ready to drop.” Junior kissed Ryan again, this time on the mouth. 

Ryan merely nodded and slipped off his barstool. “Ladies, as always, it’s been enlightening. And remember, the plural of penis is penes.”

“I don’t even wanna know.” Junior held his hand up. “No, we’re not even going there.”

“But what if I wanna go there,” Ryan insisted as they walked out the door, their arms wrapped around the other’s waist.

Bridget shook her head and sighed. She was thrilled to be divorced, but damn, she missed being part of a happy couple.

No, that might not actually be true.

She missed sex.

Not the unhappy sex that was the result of obligation, but the wild sex that happened when two people were crazy in love, the sweet lovemaking that occurred when one person wanted to take care of their partner—she missed that sex. She’s not had that sex in a long, long time. She’d been separated from her now ex-husband for five years, but that didn’t mean she’d not had sex. There had been some car quickies and a few one-night stands here and there, but they’d left her feeling empty and depressed, so she’d abstained from everything except for self-pleasure for the past year and a half.

Annie bumped Bridget’s shoulder, redirecting her attention.

“How are you doing, Bridget?”

Bridget shrugged. “Better, I guess. Definitely better than that night when you came over. Yeah, better.”

“But not great.”

“Eh—not bad, though. Thank you for asking.”

Annie patted Bridget’s knee.

“Hey, hey, hey—no long faces.” Nanda wagged a finger at the two women sitting across from her. “What’s up, chica? Tell me.”

“I got my divorce decree in the mail a few weeks ago. It’s . . . been harder than I anticipated.”

Nanda grew solemn. “I get it. I tried to break up with my ex so many times. God, so many times. When it was finally really over, it was hard. I mean, he’d been lying to me and almost got me killed, so that made it easier.”

“Oh my gosh, Nanda. You’re so blasé about things,” Annie said with a laugh. “ ‘Oh, he almost got me killed.’  You say that so casually, like, ‘Oh, he really likes Justin Bieber.’ You’re kinda nuts, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do. And you’re one to talk about crazy exes.”

“Yeah, I know. I know, I know. But Pierce is totally different from Jeff, thank goodness. We’re in a good place.” Annie leaned back and waved to Pierce, who was acting as a bouncer as the crowd grew larger and more boisterous.  Pierce winked at her and gave her a shy smile before turning his attention back to the line at the door.

“He’s super sweet, isn’t he?” Bridget shook her head, and Annie nodded.

“He is. He’s definitely got a naughty streak, though.”

Bridget snorted. She knew something about Pierce’s naughty streak because her neighbors had a tendency for sexual shenanigans in the dining room, which had a straight sight line from Bridget’s kitchen. She’d never forget coming home, going into the darkened kitchen for a beer, and turning around to see Pierce’s tattooed back and bare ass, all his muscles straining as he fucked a fully clothed Annie against the wall and then on the dining room table.

Damn, that was hot. Bridget never realized that she liked to watch, but boy, she did, at least that night.

I need to stop thinking about sex.

“Whoa—is that . . . damn, it is.” Nanda whistled.

“Well, well, well. Check out the big man.” Bridget craned her head around to see whom Dig and Nanda were talking about, and her jaw dropped.

Bridget had only seen Nolan in gym wear, late in the day, and then he often seemed frazzled and tired. She barely recognized the man who now stood at the bar, ordering a drink. This version of Nolan Harper looked well rested and relaxed and . . .

This Nolan Harper . . . was friggin’ hot.

Another almost equally large man came up to Nolan and patted him on the back. Nolan grinned at him and shook his hand. As Bridget watched and compared the two men, she came to the conclusion that they must be brothers.  The other man looked to be quite a bit older, but that was most likely due to the salt and pepper in his beard and the overall grizzled appearance.

An ear-piercing whistle right next to her ear almost deafened her, and she turned to glare at Nanda, who followed up trying to attract his attention by yelling, “Oi! Nolan!” and standing on her chair. Subtle, she wasn’t.

Bridget snickered at his surprised expression but stopped cold when a huge grin spread across his handsome face, a grin that seemed directed at her. He sauntered over to their table, followed by the second man, and still laser-focused on Bridget, simply said, “Hey.”

Her responding greeting stuck in her throat. She felt suddenly shy, like his being at the same bar was some sort of cosmic meeting, which was ridiculous, right? Right?

“Hey, Nolan. You look really nice.” Bridget, you’re an idiot.

“See? What’d I tell you?” Nolan’s brother ribbed him, causing Nolan to scowl. “Tobias Harper,” he said, extending his hand. “Nolan’s older, wiser brother.”

Nolan continued to scowl and added an eye roll when Bridget grinned and shook Tobias’s hand.

“This is Bridget. She’s the personal trainer who’s been filling in for the guy I usually work with,” Nolan interjected before Bridget could say anything. “And these two are Nanda and Dig DiGiacomo. They’re at the fight club as well.”

Tobias nodded in greeting at Dig and Nanda, but his focus remained on Bridget. “Oh, so you’re Bridget. Nice to meet you.”

Bridget tried to ignore Nanda, whose eyebrows rose so high that the bangs on her pixie cut obscured them, but all she really wanted to do was pull the gym manager into the restroom to gossip like squealing preteens. Settle down, Birdie. Nolan was probably just updating his brother about his progress.

“Yes, I’m Bridget.” I promise I’m not as stupid as I sound. Maybe. She cleared her throat. “It didn’t dawn on me that we’d be at the same venue, Nolan.”

He frowned. “Why?”

Bridget stammered, trying to formulate a response that wouldn’t make her sound like some sort of a condescending snob.

Tobias barked a laugh. “Guess she didn’t expect a bunch of bluegrass hillbillies to be playing at an Irish pub in Hipster Central, huh? Speaking of, I gotta get to it. Dig, Nanda, Bridget, nice to meet y’all.”

Nolan sighed, and Nanda nodded her head. “I know. Brothers.”