The barmaid put my beer down, and I took a satisfying drink of Andy’s latest small batch brew with a hum. “Really good. Ethan has been trying to walk, and Remi decided she wants to try for baby number two.” I puffed up my chest, feeling obscenely proud.
Hunter chuckled. “The practice stage is fun.”
“Considering I’ve already experienced the sleepless nights, I know what I’m in for.” We clinked glasses.
“Drinking without me, I’m hurt.” Chase Calloway, another friend from our football days, sat next to me and waved down a drink of his own.
“I just got here, but to be fair”—I checked my watched, a gift from Remi last Christmas with a stainless steel face and minimalist numbers—“you were late.”
“Five minutes.” Chase bristled, checking his own, a smart watch that beeped and blipped every time he moved.
“Seven, but who’s counting,” Hunter said in his typical gruff demeanor that was a lot friendlier than people gave him credit for. He said little, but when he spoke, he commanded the room.
“Then catch up.” I toasted his glass with mine and we drank.
“Where’s my sister’s shithead?” Chase teased, referring to his brother-in-law, Damien. It was an unspoken rule when we got together to practically take roll call.
Hunter obliged him with an answer, “He is on babysitting duty while the girls hang out.”
“Ah, and yours?” Chase inclined his head, looking at me.
“Remi has a classmate, a freshman who likes kids. We call her up when we want a grown-up date night.” I figured Chase would someday get Winnie onboard with kids, but for now they were content to live one burned kitchen towel adventure at a time.
The only other ones missing were Whittaker, but we knew he was working tonight, David, who was running a support group at my dad’s church oddly enough, and Andy, who was currently behind the bar, slinging drinks.
“How’s Winnie?” I’d heard through the feminine grape vine that she’d burned her hand, trying to cook. She might actually be worse than my wife in the kitchen, but I didn’t say that out loud.
“She is recovering nicely, but no more cooking for her. I swear she took about a year off my life, and now I have to repaint the one wall of the kitchen.”
“I can help you with that,” Hunter grumbled between bites of potato skins and cheese sticks.
“Appreciated.” Chase gave our ex-Army boy a salute.
“There must be something she can cook well,” I said as I peeled the label off my beer.
“Rice. Do you know how many times a week I eat fucking rice,” he bemoaned, rubbing his stomach.
I held my hands up in surrender. “Sorry, man, mine burns it and I had to replace another pot this week.”
“You two should trade.” Hunter waved his hand between us, grunting in a half laugh we’d all grown accustomed to with him. If Hunter was in a mood, grouchy was a constant companion for this guy. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Maybe the girls can cook for each of you. Swap dinners, you dicks.” Yeah, because Hunter knew exactly what we were thinking. As if we’d wife swap, which was never happening
“What about a cooking class?” I mused out loud, nursing my beer again.
Chase drummed his fingers on the table top. “I heard Carmen was hosting something over at the Cake and Battery.” Carmen was the owner of the oddly named bakery with the most amazing desserts. She even designed a few wedding cakes for our group of friends.
I thought about this for a solid minute. “I think we’re going to have to find a way to present it without coming off like total assholes. I already bought stock in pots and a rice cooker for Christmas, sweetened by something sparkly from Tiffany’s. My wallet hurts and if it snows there’s no overtime for me to work.”
Chase chuckled. “That’s because you like getting laid”—he pointed his beer at me—“but you also don’t want to starve.”
“Amen to that,” Hunter grumbled.
“Still a dick move,” I mumbled, not exactly proud of my gift-giving prowess. I should have told them Remi asked for the rice cooker, but only because she felt like she was failing in the kitchen, and I couldn’t say no to anything she asked for when she seldom asked for anything.
“Hang on.” Hunter pulled out his cell phone and typed a message before laying it back down on the table.
“What did he do?” Chase nudged me and I had a bad feeling about this.
“Patience, grasshopper.” Hunter smiled and turned his phone over when it dinged, sliding it over to our side of the table.
“Is nothing sacred between the bro code?” I huffed, reading Taylor’s reply.
Hunter chugged his beer before replying, “Happy Wife, happy life. Learn it. Live it.”
And that’s how Hunter got my wife and Chase’s enrolled in cooking classes for the following week.
4
Remi
“Sooo, how’s the baby-making going?” Winnie teased me and my face lit up like a firework. I couldn’t stop the heat in my cheeks, and I fanned myself, feeling a hot flash I was too young to be having. Mere thoughts of my husband sparked a fire in me still. It was pretty standard for word to get around in our group, and secrets didn’t last long despite keeping things between couples.
Winnie Grey was probably my closest girlfriend in our group of friends since I met Evan. Not that the other girls weren’t nice, because I adored Taylor, but I felt closer to Winnie. We were the closest in age, and our guys seemed to hang out the most. Besides Whittaker, the park ranger, and his girl, Lia, who was an amazing photographer, I had a hard time bonding with people in general. I liked them, but I was always self-conscious and shy, so unless Evan was with me, it was hard to come out of my shell. It seemed odd since I lived with Andy and David above the bar for a year before a I lived with Evan, but those guys were my self-appointed big brothers from another mother and my son’s joint godfathers.
I tucked an errant curl behind my ear. “It’s, uh, going.” I bit my lip to keep from giggling. Yup, steamy thoughts and I was going to be needing a change of clothes.
“Oh, my God, you’re going to be the cutest pregnant girl I know, and to think you’ve done this before.” Winnie lightly punched me in the arm. I pushed her back, playfully.
“I’m not pregnant yet, but Evan sure does get an A for effort.” I scrunched my nose, imagining his scent and the taste of his skin. If only I could bottle him up—he was potent and left me love-drunk thinking about him.
“As long as he doesn’t give Chase any ideas. I’m not ready for that by a long shot, but I don’t mind when my friends are. I make great aunt material.”
“Well, you’ll be the first I tell.”
“Oh, good. Do you think it’ll be a girl? Can it please be a girl?” Winnie clapped her hands and spun around.
I chuffed. “Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that.”
“I’ll text Chase to tell Evan to make sure he knocks you up with some girly DNA then, okay?” She pulled out her phone and typed off a quick message.
“Sure.” I snorted. I could imagine Evan’s reaction to being told he needed to put a girl child in my belly. He’d probably ralph in his patrol car, wondering where I’d deliver the baby this time. He loved our son, but I was sure a girl would give him extra gray hairs. Although, a girl with his eyes and cute nose would be adorable. I found myself melting at the idea of a little baby girl and lots of frilly pink to even out the household I was currently outnumbered in.