My phone vibrates in my pocket, and since Jude is busy trying to read my mind, I pull it out to check my messages.
Daisy: Running a little later than I expected, but I should be home by 8:30. We still on for you cooking me a glorious feast?
I grin and shoot her a quick Yes back.
But when I look up from my phone, I find that Jude is still watching me like I’m the most interesting thing in the locker room. Ironically, I’ve now told him and Remy the truth about Daisy and me, but the fuckers don’t believe me—even after what I told Remy turned out to be true.
Whatever. It’s his problem, not mine.
I leave the locker room for good this time, but Jude follows right behind on his shaky Bambi legs.
“It’s all pretty fucking nuts, bro,” he calls toward my back as I walk past the reception area and out of the gym’s lobby doors. “I mean, you’re married, before me, the guy who had to propose four fucking times before Sophie said yes.”
Truthfully, I have not a clue what he’s trying to get at here, and I don’t care to know. He and Sophie are getting married, and Daisy and I already are. End of story—almost.
Jude looks out toward the street and then back at me. He searches my eyes with scrutiny again, until eventually, he asks, “Why did you get married, dude? Like, what the hell changed? You’re the most rational person I know, and it seems like this marriage was on a damn whim. Like it just dropped out of the sky. I like Daisy, I really do, but this is all so unlike you.” His eyes go wide and imploring. “Oh shit, you’re not in the middle of a fucking nervous breakdown, are you?”
Pretty sure anyone who is in the middle of a nervous breakdown doesn’t realize they’re in the middle of one, but in the name of not getting him all worked up, I keep that shit to myself.
“I’m good, man.”
“You sure?”
I sigh. Nod. And I almost end the conversation right there, but something inside me makes me want to put Jude at ease. “Daisy is…better than I ever imagined she’d be,” I tell him. “She’s hilarious. Fucking adorable. Talks enough for the both of us. She makes life fun.”
And you actually really fucking like her.
I can’t deny that ever since Daisy came blazing into my life, I’ve been the opposite of bored. This last month is the most I’ve laughed in a lifetime, I’m certain.
She’s also the first woman you want to spend time with. A lot of fucking time, in fact…
“Are you in the mafia? Is that what it is?” Jude questions out of fucking nowhere. “Or is it the CIA? Are you an undercover agent living a double life, and you can’t tell anyone about it?”
“Who knows,” I answer through a shrug and hitch my duffel higher on my shoulder. “Maybe I’m not even your actual brother. Maybe Mom’s in on it too.”
For an instant, Jude’s eyes look so big they might pop out of his skull, but then, he reaches out to punch me in the shoulder. “You’re such an asshole.”
I shake my head on a chuckle, and it’s then that I notice the T-shirt he changed into after our workout that had him whining like a baby. White cotton material with a variety of badges spread all over his chest and stomach and back and arms, and the words “The Secret Club” embroidered across his right pec.
“I’m the asshole?” I retort and nod toward his attire. “Says the man who’s standing in front of me in a T-shirt that looks like he joined the Girl Scouts.”
Jude glances down at his chest and grins. “Sophie got it for me. Well, actually, I got Sophie the first one, and then she got me one too. It’s a Secret Club T-shirt.”
I still have no idea what that means.
“The badges have to be earned.” He waggles his brows. “You want to know how I earn my badges?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“What?” he questions. “Why not?”
“Because it’s pretty damn obvious it’s related to sexual shit, and I’d prefer to stay oblivious to your sex life.”
“Like I’d even fucking tell you. What happens in the Secret Club stays in the Secret Club.”
“Fantastic,” I respond and decide it’s high time I got the hell moving. Not only do I have a dinner to make, but I need to stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things.
Jude calls out toward me, something about being a dick, but I just lift my hand in a wave and head toward the subway. Though, once I find an empty seat toward the back of the train, I can’t stop myself from starting some shit on my youngest brother’s behalf.
Phone in hand, I fire off a text in the ongoing group chat with my brothers.
Me: Jude’s in the Girl Scouts now. And, personally, after seeing his T-shirt with all the badges he’s earned, I’m really proud of him.
Knowing my brothers, it’s only going to take that one text to get them going.
Ty: Aw, congrats, bro! Let me know when you’re selling cookies because I’ll buy a shitload from you. Especially Thin Mints. Those fuckers are like candy-coated crack.
Remy: That’s awesome, man. What’s your troop number?
See what I mean?
Jude: I’m not in the fucking Girl Scouts, you idiots.
Ty: But you earn badges?
Jude: Sophie and I earn badges.
Remy: So, you and Sophie are in the Girl Scouts?
Jude: I’m thirty-eight fucking years old, and I’m a man, bro. I’m not in the Girl Scouts.
Ty: But you earn badges?
Jude: Yes. It’s a thing between Sophie and me, and Flynn is just being a lying prick.
Remy: Are you sure you’re not in the Girl Scouts?
Ty: Right? It sounds like the Girl Scouts.
Jude: Fuck you guys. It’s not the damn Girl Scouts, it involves orgasms, you dicks.
Ty: Dude, does your troop leader know about this? I feel like you guys are going to get kicked out.
Jude: FUCK YOU GUYS.
Ty: Okay, but don’t forget to let us know when you’re selling cookies.
Jude: I HATE ALL OF YOU. ESPECIALLY YOU, FLYNN. I KNOW YOU’RE READING THESE TEXTS BUT NOT RESPONDING, YOU CRYPTIC BASTARD.
I smirk to myself and slide my phone into my pocket. I know I keep shit close to the vest, but I can’t deny this conversation gave me a hell of a lot of enjoyment.
My phone buzzes a few more times in my pocket, most likely Ty and Remy still razzing Jude, but when the subway comes to a halt at my stop, I grab my duffel and head in the direction of the grocery store.
I have a meal to cook and a wife to feed.
Daisy
“Honey, I’m home!” I exclaim as I walk through the door. Keys on the cute table I set up by the door, I kick off my heels and head straight into the kitchen with two bags of groceries where the delicious aromas of cheese and pasta and garlic fill my nose.
“Oh wow, it smells good in here.”
Flynn glances over his shoulder as he drains hot water from the pasta. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“After the afternoon I’ve had dealing with Tara and her dramatics, this is the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“I take it the Wicked Witch of the Real Estate East is still alive and well?”
His commentary makes me giggle, but it’s also a pleasant surprise. Over the past few weeks, Flynn has received more than an earful regarding my lovely—more like, horrible—coworker, and apparently, he really did listen to everything I told him. “Oh yeah, alive and well and probably out buying a new broomstick as we speak.”