Teagan was that friend everyone had; you know, the one you had to say 'be nice' to before bringing them around new people? She was as unpredictable as the weather and could be downright rude at regular intervals.

She also happened to possess a heart as brave as a lion's and a rare quality of loyalty that was second to none. I loved her to death and I knew she felt the same for me, which is why I genuinely feared for Annabelle right now.

Teagan on a normal day was scary enough.

Pregnant, hormonal Teagan was a force to be reckoned with.

"Okay, she needs to fuck right off," Teagan announced, voicing my inner thoughts, as we sat at the bar and watched Annabelle walk into the restaurant with my husband trailing after her, holding Ryder in his arms.

"Be nice," I muttered. "He never comes out." When he didn’t answer my text message earlier, I had figured he was just flat out ignoring me. But now he was here? He had actually showed up? I was… reeling.

"And when he does he has to bring her?" Teagan shot back, narrowing her gaze at them. "Screw that, Hope."

Teagan was right of course, and voicing aloud exactly what I was thinking inside.

Jesus, why did Annabelle have to come?

This was supposed to be a celebratory dinner for Noah and Teagan.

She had no business being here.

She didn’t know my friends.

Why would she congratulate Noah and Teagan on their second wedding?

She wasn’t around for their first fucking wedding!

She knew nothing about them or the horrific struggles they had endured this past year.

"Please be nice, Teegs," I added nervously as they got closer. "The baby's with them."

"Luckily for her," she huffed before tossing back her orange juice. "What the hell is she thinking, bringing a baby to a bar at this time of night?"

"Well, it is technically a restaurant, too." I waved around the room at the many families enjoying a meal together. "And she's not the only one with children here."

"Fine," Teagan shot back, jutting out her chin. "The baby can stay. But she can leave!"

"Repress your violent urges," I begged, tone low. "And unleash them on Noah tonight."

Teagan's face broke out in cat-like smile. "Oh, I intend to."

"Ew."

"Hello, Hope," Annabelle chimed, reaching us. She leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "You look lovely tonight."

"Annabelle…hey," I acknowledged awkwardly as I slid off my bar stool and forced a smile to greet her. "This is Teagan." I turned to look at Teagan and gave her my best 'don’t you dare let me down' glare. "Teagan, this is Annabelle Walker."

"Congratulations on your wonderful news," Annabelle said brightly as she stretched a hand towards Teagan. "I'm sorry for high-jacking your night. I hope you don’t mind me and Ryder tagging along."

Meanwhile, I held my breath and waited to see whether or not I was going to have to wrestle a pregnant woman out of the bar.

Hunter had slipped outside for a smoke before we were seated at our table, and Noah had gone with him – to smoke behind his wife's back no doubt – but right now, I was hoping they would hurry the hell up and get back in here.

There was no way I was going to be able to manage Teagan on my own if she decided to stretch her claws.

"Not at all," Teagan finally said, voice a little tighter than normal. "So glad you guys could join us."

I sagged in relief.

Thank you, Jesus…

"It's a great bar," Annabelle added enthusiastically.

"They have live music here on Friday nights," I offered, feeling the need to make an effort. "So we picked the right night to come."

"Are they good?"

"The band?" Teagan nodded. "They're brilliant. They do the best covers."

"They do?” Annabelle chirped. "Well, maybe I'll find a nice guy to take me dancing then."

"Yeah," I replied flatly. "Maybe." I swung around then, giving Jordan my full attention. "I'm glad you could come," I whispered, feeling ridiculously nervous. "It means a lot to me."

"Yeah, I know," Jordan replied gruffly, eyes locked on mine. "You look nice tonight."

"Oh." I blushed at the compliment. "Thank you." I looked like a sack of potatoes in comparison to Annabelle who was rocking a tiny red dress with kitten heels, and Teagan who was dressed like a Grecian goddess in a white maxi-dress that emphasized her pregnancy boobs. "I should have made more of an effort," I muttered. "Worn a dress…"

"You're beautiful," he whispered, shifting Ryder into his other arm.

"Opie," Ryder babbled happily. "Opie."

"See?" Jordan chuckled. "You've already got an admirer."

"Opie up," Ryder cried out as he wriggled like a little worm and reached his chubby little hands out to me.

"How's my favorite little guy?" Snatching him out of Jordan's arms, I smothered him in kisses to which he squealed in delight. "We're waiting on a table to come available," I found myself explaining as I waved a dismissive wave around the jam-packed bar. "They don’t take reservations here."

The words were no sooner out of my mouth when a table became open in the far corner of the bar. Teagan, ever the graceful one, made a beeline for it, beating an elderly couple to the table. When they gave her a dirty look, she pointed to her blatantly noticeable baby bump and poked out her tongue.

"How am I friends with her?" I whispered in mortification as I watched Teagan defend the table from a couple of geriatrics.

"She hasn’t changed one bit," Jordan chuckled, clearly amused at the sight of Teagan waving us over.

Stop waving, you brat!

And stop looking so freaking proud of yourself…

"No," I agreed with a shake of my head. "And she never will."

"Here; let me take this little guy off your hands," Annabelle said as she stepped in front of me and reached for Ryder. "Why don’t you guys go and sit with your friend. I'll go find a highchair."

"I'll do that," Jordan was quick to offer.

"I can manage."

"You're holding the baby," he countered. "You can't carry a highchair as well."

"Jordan? I've got it," Annabelle shot back, lifting Ryder into her arms. "Go and sit with your wife."

Call it strange, but I had the distinct feeling that she was telling Jordan what to do.

I wasn’t sure if it made me warm towards her for trying to make him spend time with me, or hurt because he had to be told to do it.

Either way, I didn’t wait around to listen, making a beeline for the table instead. "Oh god," I groaned, sinking down on a chair next to Teagan at the fancily decorated round table. For fuck's sake, the table was dressed better than I was. I stared down at the crisp white table cloth and groaned. "Kill me now."

"I can still kick her ass for you," she suggested, patting my forearm. "I'd do it, Hope. Just say the word."

"I know you would," I half laughed, half groaned, leaning my head on her shoulder. "That's why I love you so much."

Jordan, Annabelle, and Ryder arrived at the table then. He placed a wooden highchair down at the table before taking Ryder from her hands and gently slotted him inside. Then he did something I had been praying he would do; he sat down in the chair next to me.

I did a little internal happy dance that he was sitting with me, but then Annabelle took the seat on his left, and my dancing alter ego shriveled up and died.

They placed Ryder's highchair between them, ever the doting parents, while I forced myself not to cry.

I felt Teagan's hand squeeze mine under the table, and that small moment of contact was what kept me in my chair because the sight of my husband with his little surrogate family made me want to bolt.

"Oh my god," Annabelle gasped loudly, catching all our attention. Her focus was on the two men making their way towards our table. "Who is that?"

I looked across the room to where Annabelle was pointed and locked eyes on Hunter and Lucky who were being surrounded by some overly zealous MFA fans. I took a moment to appreciate how amazing my uncle was. It wasn’t easy, being tackled and swarmed every place he went, but he was incredibly graceful. He stood and took photographs with everyone that thrust a phone at him. I knew that if I were him, I would never be able to cope with the continuous intrusion into my life. But Noah just… got on with it. He didn’t bitch or throw tantrums when his life was disrupted by them. He didn't complain about his lack of privacy or the fact that he was trying to have a night out with his wife and friends. The man was humbling.

On the other side of the lens was Hunter, taking the pictures while he too was fondled and grabbed by fans. That, I didn’t like. They had no reason and no business to be touching on him like that.

"That," Teagan shot back in a deathly cold tone, dragging my attention back to the table. "Is my husband."

"I know who your husband is," Annabelle giggled. "Everyone knows who The Machine is." She bit down on her bottom lip and cast a glance towards the men before saying, "I was talking about him." She pointed discreetly towards Hunter and sighed dreamily. "Please tell me that tattooed piece of man candy is single?"

"Tattooed piece of man candy?" Jordan mused. With an easy smile, he asked her, "Should I even ask?"

She shot him a knowing smile. "I told you earlier."

Jordan looked over to where Hunter was standing and shook his head. "Maybe you should set the bar a little higher, Annie." Smirking, he added, "Perhaps focus on someone who hasn’t spent half his life in an orange jumpsuit."

Immediately, my hackles rose. I opened my mouth to defend him, but Teagan got there first. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" she snapped, glaring across the table. "I'll have you know that Lucky is one of the best men I know – orange jumpsuit and all." She sniffed before adding, "Unlike other men around here."

Jordan swung around to face Teagan. "It was a joke," he replied flatly. "A private one."

"He didn’t mean anything by that," Annabelle interjected. "My ex is in prison. That's why he said that about orange jumpsuits."

"Well, I'll be goddamned," Noah whistled, arriving in the nick of time. "Look who finally showed up." He clapped Jordan's shoulder before taking his seat beside his wife. "Good to see you, man."

Jordan's entire frame went rigid from the contact.

My heart broke at the sight.

Noah was being genuinely friendly, welcoming him like he would any of my brother's, but the surprise of his touch caused my husband psychological pain.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, reaching over to cover his hand.

"Noah," Jordan acknowledged, forcing a smile, as he yanked his hand away from my touch. "Good to see you, too."

Mortified by the rejection, I quickly dropped my hands on my lap and feigned impassiveness as I watched Jordan and Noah converse.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Annabelle glancing at me with a sympathetic expression.

The sympathy in her eyes was quickly replaced with lust when Hunter took the last remaining free seat at the table, which just so happened to be beside her. He settled into his seat and winked at me before acknowledging Jordan with a curt nod.

Finally, he turned to look at Annabelle and smiled. "Hey," he acknowledged, tone friendly.

"Hey," she replied, tone husky. Turning in her seat to give him her full attention, she reached a hand to Hunter and said, "I'm Annabelle Walker."

"I figured," he replied with a smile as he took her hand and shook it. "It's nice to put a face to the name."

"I'm sorry," she purred, her hand lingering on his. "I don’t know your name?"

"Lucky Casarazzi," he replied, slowly retracting his hand from hers.

"Lucky?" she mused, leaning closer to him. "Is that a nickname or something?"

"Something like that," he shot back with a smile.

"Well, Lucky," she purred. "Looks like we're the only two singletons at the table. Talk about coincidence, huh?"

"Yeah," Hunter replied. His eyes flicked to me for a brief moment and then Jordan before returning to her. "It's a strange world, alright."

Annabelle giggled at his response – actually fucking giggled like a fricking school girl – and I frowned.

What the fuck was she laughing at?

"I have to tell you, I love your tattoos," she added, eyes roaming shamelessly over his inked arms and neck. "Do you have more?" She leaned closer and whispered, "In other places?"

Ugh.

She had no fricking shame.

I never realized what a jealous breed of woman I was until I watched Annabelle look at Hunter like he was a piece of meat. Suddenly, after twenty-six years of docile living, my cat claws had come out in full force and I was ready to cut the bitch.

It wasn’t enough for her to take Jordan away from me but now she wanted to take Hunter, too.

I couldn’t stand it.

He smiled at her and I wanted to scream.

I knew he was only being his regular, friendly self, but I wanted to drag him away from her, lock him away somewhere safe, and save all his smiles for me.

I felt a high heel stab my foot and I jerked in surprise.

"What?" I hissed, rubbing my injured foot with my other one.

"You're staring at them," Teagan whispered in my ear so only I could hear. "And you're being obvious about it."

Flushing bright red, I turned and gaped at her. "I am?"

"Yes." She nodded, voice still a whisper. "You look like you want to jump across the table and strangle her."

Fuck.

It was at this exact moment that Noah, who had been staring at Ryder on and off since we'd taken our seats, turned to Annabelle and said, "Cute kid."

"Annabelle beamed in delight. "Thank you."

"No problem," He continued to stare at him for another minute or so before turning to Jordan and asking, "He yours?"

That comment almost caused me to choke to death on the mouthful of wine I'd been in the process of swallowing.

"No," Jordan bit out. "He's not."

Unaffected by Jordan's sharp tone, Noah took another good look at the baby before turning his attention back to my husband. "You sure he's not yours? Kid looks a helluva lot like you."

"Quite sure," Jordan shot back coldly.

"Da-da!" Ryder squalled out, causing Noah to cock his brow, and Hunter to snicker.

The waiter came to take our order then, and I was pretty sure I'd never been so relieved to see a man with a notepad and pen as I was in this moment.

Awkward…

Thankfully, everyone at the table skipped a starter and only ordered mains. I was glad. This night couldn’t end quick enough for me.

During our meal, I made no less than seven trips to the bar, each trip a little wobblier than the last. I didn’t care about the disapproving looks Jordan gave me every time I returned with an overly generous glass of wine. I needed the Dutch courage to get through this damned dinner.

I ate my food in silence, feeling too frazzled to try and make forced conversation. I wasn’t rude about it, though, and answered the rare question that was thrown my way. It was safer keeping my face down and my concentration on my steak.