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“What date? I didn’t bring a date,” I reply, confused.
“He means Piper.” Jack chuckles. “Caleb hasn’t gotten into his thick skull that a woman like that won’t look twice at him, so he’s wondering if you have anything going on with her.”
“Shehasto look twice at me. I’m her client, dickwad.” Caleb rolls his eyes.
“And that’s all you’ll ever be. You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like Piper Lee, even if the Almighty himself gaveyou a road map,” Erin chimes in with a giggle. “She’s too much sand for your little truck to carry.”
“There’s nothing little about me, sweetheart.” He winks, only to get a dishcloth thrown in his face.
“Stop flirting with my wife, asshole,” Jack reprimands him with a scowl.
“Like he ever had a shot,” Erin adds mockingly.
“You know why you two are perfect for each other? Because you’re both assholes,” Caleb begins to pout, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hey, that look didn’t work on me when we were kids, and it sure as shit doesn’t work on me now,” Jack taunts. “Real women need real men. Not guys who spend more time looking at their own reflection in a mirror than catering to a woman’s needs. Isn’t that right, beautiful?”
“You tell him, babe,” Erin taunts with a light laugh as Jack begins to pepper her neck with kisses.
“You see what I have to put up with? Consider yourself lucky, Nate. Family is the worst,” Caleb whines playfully before adding two fingers in his mouth, pretending he’s about to gag for witnessing his brother and sister-in-law’s PDA.
Family is the worst.
Yeah.
I thought the same way before I came to Boston.
But as I take in the familial scenery in the kitchen, knowing it’s so far removed from anything I’ve ever experienced, I actually find myself wondering what it would feel like to have something similar in my life.
It must be nice.
To come home to someone who just gets you.
Who doesn’t judge or ridicule you.
Someone who doesn’t give a shit that half of Boston hates your guts.
Yeah.
It must be real fucking nice.
“Not sure you two should be handing out relationship advice,” Caleb utters with a teasing smirk, pulling me out of my pensive thoughts. “I mean, if I had a wife, I wouldn’t let her lift a finger, much less cook for fifty people on our daughter’s big day. Hate to break it to you, Erin, but your husband is a cheapskate.”
“No, he’s not. He’s just considerate. You know damn well I hate mingling with the other hockey wives. All they do is talk about the latest fashion show they went to or gossip about someone’s boob job. This way, I have an excuse not to suffer through all their idle chatter,” Erin explains assuredly. “Besides, I love to cook. This kitchen is my happy place.”
“And mine is our bedroom. Fifty minutes and counting,” Jack coos in her ear with a smoldering look, already counting down the minutes before he can kick his guests to the curb.
“Ew. You keep that up, and I’m going to call Ma,” Caleb grumbles before finishing his bottle. “Want another one?”
“Nah. I’m good,” I reply.
“Suit yourself. But this love fest gets nauseating fast when you’re sober.” Caleb shrugs as he gets up from his seat to head over to the fridge. “Anyhoo, you never did tell me where Piper went off to in such a hurry after the church ceremony. Thought she would at least show her face here.”
“Maybe it’s because she knew you’d hound her if she came.” Jack chuckles.
“Eat me,” Caleb grumbles, flipping off his big brother, before he turns his focus back on me. “Now tell me, what did you do for Piper to skip out on the party?”
“I didn’t do anything,” I retort in defense. “She just thought it would be best to give me some space so I can think about stuff.”
