“I’m f-fine. Really. I just need a minute.” I sat, preparing for battle, in the chair at Sevan Matisse Salon with Em, Coop, and Paisley.
Actually, I was having a mental breakdown. I hadn’t expected to get emotional over cutting off what was left of my hair. It was short, shaved, and asymmetrical. Keyword: short. I’d never had short hair in my life. I didn’t know what to do with it. It was so…short.
“You look fantastic,” Coop assured. “Very trendy.”
“I look t-twelve.”
“Most women would pay thousands to say that,” Em stated with a shrug. She looked up from her freshly polished nails to find me staring at her. “Just saying.”
“I don't need t-to look younger; I need t-to look sexy.”
“You're so angry.”
“It's sexual frustration,” I clarified.
Paisley giggled, trying to hide it with her hand. “I'm sorry. It's just so funny that Carter Strickland isn't putting out. I mean, Carter. Who would've thought?”
“Me. It t-took everything I had t-to make him cave the last t-time. Not that he t-truly caved. I was such an emotional mess that I think he was afraid t-to say no.” With a huff, I dropped my head against the back of the seat. “Actually he did say no. Several t-times. Jesus, that's so depressing. It was either a pity f-fuck or I raped him.”
“You didn't rape him,” Em scoffed. “He might have morals, but he's no saint.”
“I don’t know why I’m bothering.” Sitting up again, I looked them each in the eye. “Do you know what it’s like t-to love someone so utterly, while they t-treat you like a pariah?”
“Yeah,” Em quipped. “Every time that little brat of Coop’s turns his nose up at me.” She drowned her frustration with a healthy gulp of mimosa. “I love that kid. I swear it, and he absolutely hates me...”
Well if she didn’t steal my pity party.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Coop promised. “He knows that you spoil him more when he plays hard to get.”
“Maybe that’s what Carter’s doing,” Paisley suggested. “Girls aren’t the only ones that like to be chased.”
“Women throw themselves at him left and right,” I complained. “Why can’t he do the chasing just this once?”
“Cause he’s too much of a stunod,” Em explained. “Besides, you're a twenty first century girl. If you want something, pull up your big girl panties and take it.”
“That's empowering.”
“What can I say—I’m the next Maya Angelou.”
“How many mimosas have you had?”
“Not enough.” Tipping her head back, she emptied her glass. “Not nearly enough.” Placing her glass on the table, she rose from her chair and headed for the bathroom. The three of us watched with consternation as she shuffled away in her paper sandals.
“Is she ok?” I asked.
“She’ll bounce back,” Coop replied. “She always does.”
“I can’t imagine how difficult it must be,” I empathized. “Wanting children so badly, and unable to have them.”
“I’d donate my uterus if I could,” Paisley voiced. “God knows, I don’t need it.”
“Don’t you have to be a physical match?” Cooper asked. “Wouldn’t it just be easier if you carried it for her—like a surrogate? You always said you didn’t have anything against pregnancy—just raising kids.”
“Are we really talking about this?”
“Hypothetically.” Her level of interest said otherwise.
“I’d have to give it some thought. A lot of thought. There could be health complications. And that’s if there were no legal setbacks. There’re laws. Guidelines to follow.”
“But you could do it emotionally? You wouldn't have a problem giving it up after carrying it nine months?”
“God no.” Paisley’s nose scrunched in distaste. “Bottles, diapers, spit up, mmm…no. I'll pass.”
“You know there are positives to raising children too.”
“Look—I’m just being judicious. I don’t want to have a kid on a whim and then never pay attention to it because I’m too absorbed in myself.”
Coop snorted and rolled her eyes. “The only thing you’re absorbed in is Jake, and what kind of spanky panky you can get into!”
“I’m not ashamed.”
From the restroom, Em came shuffling back out, her paper flip flops scuffing against the floor. She glanced from Coop to Paisley to me. “Quit talking about me. I’m fine.”
“Who said we were talking about you?”
“No one had to. You all look like the cat got your tongue.”
“We were trying to decide which of us was going to take a turkey baster for you,” Coop admitted.
“So, which of you is it?”
“Paisley. Why should she be the only one unscathed?”
“I have scars,” Paisley argued.
“We’re not talking about the handprints Jake leaves on your ass,” Coop replied. “We’re talking about a genuine act of selflessness. The ultimate sacrifice. True battle scars.”
Paisley frowned. “I thought this was hypothetical.”
“Relax, Paisley,” Em tsked. “I would never ask that of you.”
“I’d do it,” I said. Everyone turned and looked at me. “I wouldn’t do it f-for anybody, but I’d do it f-for a f-friend. I don’t think I could handle not knowing if it went t-to a good home or if it was happy.”
“Attention whore.” Paisley shot me an impetuous scowl.
“Don’t be such a drag,” Em scoffed. “We all know that your view on children bears the likes of Joan Crawford.”
“Fuck you.” Nonplussed, Paisley flipped her the bird. “I was going to give you my uterus, but now I’m going to keep it for myself.”
“Mattie has a better uterus. It’s surrounded by love and kindness.”
The corners of Paisley’s lips curled up in a nefarious grin. “Mattie will have to abstain for the better part of a month during transfer.”
“Mattie might be concerned if she was getting any t-t-to begin with,” I countered, but sticking my tongue out at her.
“Attention whore,” Paisley repeated.
“She has to get it somewhere,” Cooper excused. “She’s obviously not getting it at home.”
“I get plenty of attention,” I amended. “I’d think he was possessive or controlling if I didn’t know him so well. If I want something t-to eat, he runs out t-to pick it up. If I need something f-for Iain, he runs out t-to pick it up. If I need anything at all, he runs out t-to pick it up.”
“He’s making up for lost time,” Cooper excused. “Tate’s the same way. He’s the doting daddy. He wants to take care of his ladies.”
“It’s not that,” I insisted. “I went f-for a jog. He had Matt and Taylor there. I wanted t-to see my gram. He had Matt and Taylor there. I could’ve driven myself t-today. Matt and Taylor are outside waiting f-for me. It’s like he doesn’t want me t-to leave the house.”
Em choked on her mimosa. She wiped at dribble of orange juice from her chin. “I’m fine! I’m ok!”
“You’re cut off,” Cooper warned. “Not one more.”
“That’s not fair,” Em objected. “I don’t like to drink around Shane. That leaves me to drink with you guys.”
“Shane doesn’t care if you drink,” Coop advised. “In fact, he told me himself. He thinks you’re more relaxed when you have a glass of wine in your hand.”
“That’s cause he usually gets some,” Em replied. “And I’m not talking about wine. He calls me his new drug.” She laughed into her flute glass, then tipped her head back and emptied it.
“Back to the matter at hand,” Coop said, rolling her eyes. She sipped at her own glass, watching me over the rim. “You were almost killed, Mattie. We don’t know who this guy is or why he did it. I’d say Carter has a reason to be protective.”
“He’s in prison.” It was a weak argument at best.
“You should try living with Jake after being drugged by a porn star that can’t take no for an answer,” Paisley complained. “You want to talk about overprotective.”
“I have lived with Jake.” If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be in this situation. He’d effectively cock blocked Carter and me, and we already had a kid together. Talk about whacked.
“True,” Paisley agreed. “Though, Jake took a step back. He doesn’t like it, but he wants you to be happy.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You just said he was standing between you and Carter.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shook my head. I hadn’t realized I’d said the latter aloud. “I really am losing it. Losing it? I’ve lost it. T-Truly lost it. You know you have when you start having conversations in your head out loud.”
“It’s called stress,” Paisley said. “You’ve just come out of a coma to face motherhood, aka sleep deprivation.”
“It’s not sleep deprivation,” I corrected. “It’s sex deprivation.”
Despite Coop’s admonition, Em filled another mimosa. She sat forward in her chair, rolling the glass in her hand. “Are you going to do something about it, or are you going to continue with your woe is me routine?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I replied dryly. I couldn’t find it in me to feel sorry for myself, not after discussing Em’s issues. With a little elbow grease, mine could be solved. Hers, not so much. “You know what would really help?”
Em cocked her head in question.
“If someone t-took Iain f-for the night.”
“Me?” Her hand clapped against her chest in surprise.
“Coop has her hands full and Paisley hates babies.”
“I. Don’t. Hate. Babies!” Paisley exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.
“Fine, then you babysit,” I amended. “I bet Uncle Jake will be so excited t-to watch Iain while I romp n’ roll with his daddy. Carter. Jake’s most f-favored, lifelong f-friend.”
Paisley’s face puckered. Her hands fell back to her sides. “You know, maybe you’re right. Em should do it. Since you’re going to be womb mates and all.”
“Em should do it because she’s generous and good,” Em preened.
“Em’s going to spoil him to death,” Coop seconded.
“Em better toss that last mimosa or she’s going to be too sloshed to hold her head up straight for wittle Iain’s two a.m. feeding, let alone his four or six,” Paisley scoffed. “And he’s going to be especially pissed when he realizes your guns aren’t loaded.”
“Wish bad on me all you want, puttana. I’ll be in my element.” Full of piss and vinegar, and even more champagne, Em pulled her wallet from her purse and stood from her chair. “Come on, amiche, let’s go find Matilda the Hun some new battle armor.”
As she walked off, we all broke down into giggles. The hem of her skirt was stuck beneath the waistline. “Should one of us t-tell her?” I asked.
Lifting her phone, Coop snapped a picture. Her fingers moved over the screen. A smile spread across her face. A second later, Em gasped with indignity. She yanked her skirt, pulling the hem from her waistband.
♪ ♫ ♪ ♫
“This one,” said Em. She held up a sheer lavender baby doll. It was pretty, but not what I was looking for at all. “It would look beautiful against your hair and skin.”
“It’s pastel,” I declined. “I’m staying away f-f-from pastels. They scream chaste. I don’t want t-to look any younger. I want t-to look sexy and mature.”
“You want sexy…?” I turned to look at Paisley, who was holding up a black strappy number that would’ve went well with a whip and ball gag.
“Um, no. I said sexy, not slutty.”
“Boo on you. Bitch.”
“We’re here for Mattie,” Coop chided. “Not to support Jake’s spanky panky.”
“I like Jake’s spanky panky.”
“Obviously.”
Shaking my head, I tapped out. “I don’t even want to know.” Jake’s sex life was the last thing I wanted to discuss. Just nasty.
Paging through a rack of bustiers, I was pretty sure I didn’t want lingerie at all. I wanted an old tee and a pair of bikinis. I was planning to cook dinner, seduce him. Cooking in thigh highs and crotchless underwear didn’t seem natural. I was going to look like a desperate loser.
I was a desperate loser, but I didn’t have to look the part.
“Tell me about it,” Paisley agreed. “Peter has verbal flatulence when it comes to sex. Everything that comes out of his mouth is disgusting.”
“He reminds me of Carter, actually. If things don’t work out tonight, maybe Paisley can fix you up with him.” Coop looked up when she felt the weight of my stare. “Just saying, it’s always good to have a backup plan.”
My frown deepened. I had a backup plan. He died. “I’m not going to fail.” It wasn’t an option. If things didn’t work out with Carter, I was swearing off men entirely. I felt as though I was earning my moniker. Matilda the Hun.
“How about this?” Coop slipped a hanger from the rack and held up a lace romper in sage. She looked almost heartbroken when I shook my head.
“You should get it f-for yourself,” I told her. Redheads always rocked green. Coop was a strawberry blonde, so the paler green made her look statuesque. “It complements your hair.”
She turned it around, looked it up and down. “I would, but my stomach looks like a cantaloupe. My stretchmarks have gone forth and multiplied. I think they had children. And grandchildren.”
“I told you it’ll take time before the elasticity returns.” Paisley scoffed. “You look great considering you just spit out a set of twins.”
“Thanks to my compression underwear.” Staking me with her gaze, she raised the romper again, gave it a shake. “Are you sure you won’t buy it in memory of Coop’s belated figure?”
“Sorry,” I declined. “It’s not me.”
Coop looked longingly at the garment and placed it back on the rack. “It’ll see more action on someone else.”
“Oh, come on,” Em scoffed. “Your sex life’s hardly over.”
“It is for now,” Coop advised. “Tate made the mistake of using my stomach for a puppet and making my belly button talk.”
Em tried to bite back a laugh and failed miserably. “He did not.”
“He did,” Coop replied. “And then went on to comment that it reminded him of his great Grandpa.” Her frown wavered, turning transitorily into a smile. Em, Paisley, and I couldn’t restrain our amusement. “I was mad for a minute or two…”
“You let him off the hook.”
“Of course not. I wanted to. Don’t get me wrong. I have twins. I have to seize the moment when it’s available. Unlucky for him, I was mortified. Completely mortified. And then I stood in the bathroom—in front of that huge wall length mirror—and cried for about ten minutes until he begged me to come out.”
“And then you let him off the hook.”
“Not entirely,” Coop admitted. “Make up sex is so much better after a few days of pouting.”
“Isn’t it?” Paisley enthused. “It’s just effing amazing. I think I’ll pick a fight with Jake tonight.”
“Why wait?” Em suggested. “Text him now.”
“What should I tell him?”
“You’re trying on lingerie and Marshall’s—unwittingly—your male study for reaction. Marshall really likes the nude, lacy thong.”
“That’s perfect!”
“Why Marshall?” I inquired. It seemed pretty malicious to throw the guy under the bus. I knew Jake’s temper.
“Fists bounce off Marshall. He's a human reflex hammer.”
Paisley wandered off, ambling back toward the leather garments, while tapping gently at the screen of her phone.
“He’s corrupted her,” Em observed. “It’s official.”
“They’re great together,” Coop added. “They disagree just enough to keep things exciting.”
“I can’t believe Jake’s engaged. That’s all the guys t-talked about growing up. Music and girls. It’s perplexing that he’s settling on just one.”
“He’s not settling on anything,” Em voiced. “Coop’s right. Paisley’s perfect for him.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I like Paisley. It’s Jake I can’t stand.” It didn’t matter that he’d taken a step back. The damage was already done. “He has Carter effectively brainwashed.”
“So, what’s your plan of attack?”
“Dinner. I need to make sure he’s f-fed. He’s irritable when he’s hungry. I’ll f-further that with a f-few drinks to loosen him up.”
“What’re you cooking?” Em inquired. This earned a moan from Coop.
“Oh, marone,” Coop moaned, mocking Em.
“Shut up,” Em retorted. “You have babies. I have dogs and cooking.”
“Does what I serve really matter?” I objected. We were talking about Carter here. “He eats like a goat.”
“True.”
“Besides,” I continued, “this isn’t really about the f-food.”
“Like you said, a full belly warms the heart.”
“Well,” I said, eyeing up a two-piece short set that caught my eye, “If you must know, I was planning on serving oysters as the main course and green M&Ms f-for dessert. Unless, you know something better.”
“Actually,” Em conspired, “I found one of Shane’s stashes that he forgot about. Among the uppers, downers, and all-arounders, there was one conspicuous little blue pill.”
“No!” I felt my jaw drop open. “Why would he have that?”
“Drinking and other forms of substance abuse can.” Em pointed her finger into the air, and curled it downward.
“Ew!”
“He doesn’t need it anymore,” Em countered. She smirked, every bit of smug. “I’m the only drug he needs now.”
“So you think I should slip Carter a Viagra in his drink?”
“No.” Em shook her head. “I’m kidding. That would be illegal and immoral. Whichever weighs more heavily on your conscience.”
“I wasn’t actually considering it,” I agreed. “If I have t-to resort t-to drugging him, I’m not interested. I do have some pride.” Grabbing the short set from the rack, I flipped it back and forth, perusing over the cut and quality of the knit. It was an ecru crocheted lace crop top with floral short trimmed in matching lace.
“It’s perfect,” Coop appraised. “It’s sexy while casual.”
“I’m getting it.”
“Good thing it’s not my color,” Em added. “I’d get one too.” She lifted a red bustier she was holding, eyeing the piece for size. “I think I’m going to try this on. I could use it for that dress I just bought.” Turning, she headed for the dressing rooms.
“You’re going to drive him crazy in that,” Coop stated. “It leaves just enough to the imagination.”
“That’s reassuring and unsettling at the same time.”
“How so?”
“I don’t want him t-to have t-too much t-ime t-to think.”
Coop glanced up, looking over my shoulder. “Oh my God—is that Jake?”
I whirled. Sure enough, Jake was striding through the store, weaving his way through the garment racks on his way toward the dressing rooms. He smiled and saluted us, not sparing a glance in our direction. At the same time, Paisley stepped out of the dressing room. She spotted Jake. Squealed. Bolted back into the cubicle. Jake darted between the racks in pursuit.
“How’d he get here so f-fast?” I wondered. “She just texted him.”
“We were in the neighborhood,” said Shane from behind me. We turned to face him as he approached. “Where’s Em?”
“In the dressing room.”
“Good.” Reaching down, he extracted something from his pocket. He held out his hand. Pinched between his fingers, he held a small velvet box. There was a ring nestled inside. Coop and I gasped at the same time. He was quick to shush us. “Think she’ll like it? Is it her?”
“It’s big and sparkly,” Coop said in assent. “She’s going to love it.”
Snapping the box closed, he crammed it back into his pocket. Wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. I still couldn’t get over the changes in his appearance. He looked healthy. Glowing. Fuck if I wasn’t jealous. He was in love. Shane Fucking Richardson had found his one. The little green beast pulled at my strings. I was quick to untangle him, and gave his hand a slap for good measure. I was happy for Shane. Someone had looked past the drugs and alcohol and finally recognized what a great guy he truly was. No one deserved it more.
“When are you going to ask?” Coop inquired.
“When I grow the balls.” He laughed nervously. “I figured if I had the ring, I’d just have to pop the question.”
“You should do it at the picnic. Everyone will be there.”
“In front of everyone?” Shane looked aghast.
“You play the drum in front of thousands, Dorkis.”
“Do you really think she’ll say yes?”
“Shane,” said Coop in reprimand. “She catches sight of that thing and there’s no way she’d say no. We’ll just have to make sure Carter doesn’t toss her in the pool afterward. She’ll sink straight to the bottom.”
Uncertainty skimmed across his features. He pulled the ring back out of his pocket. “It’s not too big, is it?”
“A diamond is never too big. But you better put it away. The light is reflecting off it like a disco ball.”
As if just remembering my presence, Shane glanced at me. “You’re coming to the picnic, right, Matt?”
Tate had a big shindig every year. The whole gang and then some had a cookout and swam in the pool. They normally did it for July the fourth. You could see the fireworks from the deck in Tate’s yard. We had a perfect view of the water where they launched them from the boats.
“I think that’s up t-to Carter,” I hedged. I wasn’t sure he felt like socializing quite yet. I think he was still lying low.
“Fuck Carter. Tell him to quit being a pussy. If he won’t come, you should come without him. Emelia can’t wait to get her hands on your kid.”
“I wouldn’t miss it f-for the world.”
Shane glanced up. The light caught his eyes. Actually, Em did. “Here she comes,” he warned. As if we’d slip and say something. Christ, I’d gone eight months without slipping and spilling the beans. I was a pro at keeping secrets.
Em wound through the racks of clothing at a quick clip, her eyes wide. “Marone, I think we should wait for them outside.”
“Seriously?” Coop giggled. Though she tried to stifle it with the palm of her hand, she failed miserably. The sound was melodious. Enchanting. Just like everything about her.
“Seriously,” Em confirmed. A loud feminine yelp sounded from the dressing rooms. Followed by a drawn out moan. And then Jake’s distinct chuckle. “If I had any idea that they’d…” She motioned toward the cubicles at the back of the store. “I wouldn’t have encouraged her.”
“I’m out of here.” I headed for the exit. The last thing I wanted to hear was Jake doing the ugly. Unfortunately, I forgot to put down my purchase before walking out the door, and inadvertently setting off the alarms.