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“Your 23-year-old sister.” Layla marches around the edge of the counter as the regulars no longer pretend to ignore the conversation. They’re tipped back in their chairs, sipping coffee and smiling. When the rest of the regulars arrive, they’ll get the play-by-play of everything that went down. With plenty of glitter sprinkled around to make it more entertaining.
“You can’t believe she’s still a….” Layla glances over at the guys and leans closer to Connor. “A virgin, do you?”
My hands ball into fists. It should have been me. It always should have been me, but I was too much of a punk to do anything about it. And then off she went to fool around with some loser who left her high and dry, breaking her heart.
I square my shoulders and prepare for the punch heard around the world. “I’m doing the shoot with her.”
“Thank god, man.” Connor rocks back on his heels and squeezes my shoulder. “I knew you’d come through. I’ve never trusted anyone else with my sister like I do you. I know you’ll respect her and not treat her like a piece of trash.”
“Absolutely. I’ll always respect your sister.”
“And keep your hands to yourself.”
He’s right on one thing. I’ll always respect her and not treat her like trash. But not in the way he means. I’d worship her and treat her like a queen.
“Right.” I nod. Unless she wants my hands on her, then all bets are off.
Chapter Thirteen
The Next Friday
Harbor
When I pull in front of Cole’s house, my heart thunders in my ears so hard I can’t hear the radio station. Layla is nowhere in sight. Damn her. I’m not about to go in there alone. My gaze darts to the black bag on my passenger seat. I should leave and come back in a few minutes.
The leather straps on that thing barely cover my private parts and only do so because Layla’s client wants to use the images on social media. Otherwise, I’d be flopping all over the place. She sent it to me last week to make sure it fit. I’m still not sure that’s an accurate description of what it does.
My phone beeps, alerting me to an incoming message.
Layla: I’m on my way. I wasn’t feeling well this morning.
Me: Are you okay?
My palms are sweaty as I hold the phone in one hand and grip the gear shifter with the other.
Layla: Yes, just a little nausea. But I ate some crackers and drank some ginger ale. I’m feeling better now.
Me: Good.
I slip down into my seat as the tension loosens in my shoulders.
Finding out my best friend is pregnant was a shock. For fuck’s sake, she was a virgin a few weeks ago, and now, she’s pregnant. We were supposed to get pregnant at the same time so our kids could go to school together, but I have zero prospects on the relationship horizon. Don’t make this about you. Besides, how would they go to school together if you’re living in San Francisco?
We were supposed to have the shoot a week ago, but her life took a tailspin when two pink lines rocked her world.
Layla: I’ll be there in 10.
Ten minutes? I’d look like an idiot leaving and coming back in 10 minutes.
The front door of Cole’s house swings open, and Sofia and Thatcher pile onto the front porch, chatting with each other. They’re followed by Emilia. Fuck, it’s too late to flee now.
At the same time, all three notice me with the kids running toward my car while waving enthusiastically, so much for hiding out in the car until Layla arrives. I shut off the engine at the same time the kids reach the door.
I snatch the bag off the seat and climb out to greet them. “Hey, guys.” I smile and ruffle Sofia’s hair first and then Thatcher’s. Their hair is soft and shines under the fall rays. Now that winter is approaching, it’s cooler in the mornings and evenings, but in the afternoon, it heats up nicely.
“Harbor.” Sofia grins and throws her arms around my waist. It’s impossible to ignore her enthusiasm as I embrace her and make room for Thatcher to join in.
Emilia frowns as she climbs down the stairs. “I didn’t realize you’d met the kids.”
