“How all seven brothers found their wives.”
“I haven’t met them all yet.”
Glancing from me to the back door, then back to me, Octy bites her bottom lip, then slowly starts to smile. “Do you have plans for dinner?”
I contemplate lying, but she and her husband really haven’t been anything but nice to me, and they’re important to Warrick. I’ve already hurt him once today, so I should try to be nice to the people he considers family. It’s the least I can do.
“No, I don’t have plans.”
“You do now. I think it’s time for a girls’ night. With Henry too, of course.” Pulling her cell from somewhere in the frothy confection of a dress she’s wearing, her fingers move over the screen at breakneck speed.
Within moments, her cell starts to buzz and then doesn’t stop while she stares down at it, her eyes scanning from side to side.
“Awesome. Everyone is in.”
“Everyone?”
“All the Barnetts, James, Tori, Etta, Parker, and Henry. Do you like Mexican food?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I guess so.” Then I start to panic. “Wait, we’re going out to dinner?”
“Yep, there’s a place in town that does these amazing tacos and margaritas.”
Knight steps back outside just as Octy says “margaritas,” and his expression morphs into a glower. “You’re not drinking margaritas, you’re pregnant.”
“So I’ll have mine virgin,” she quips back. “We’re taking Verity out for girls’ night tonight.”
“No,” Knight growls.
“Yep, it’s happening. I know you don’t like it, but you have to learn to share. But to make you feel better, you can give me and Verity a ride, then you can pace the sidewalk outside the restaurant while we eat. Afterward, you can pay before you bring us home, okay?”
“Does Warrick know about this?” Knight growls.
I shake my head. “He’s on a call-out.”
Knight’s angry glower softens. “He’s good at what he does, one of the best. He’ll be fine. But you should make sure he knows your plans, even if he can’t contact you until he’s back at base. I’ll let him know that I’m driving you both and that I’ll keep you safe.”
I think about the new bank card he gave me with my name on it. If I want to go out to dinner tonight, I’ll have to use it. Will he mind? He told me to use it. In fact, he told me that he expects me to use it, and that if I didn’t, he’d make me spend so much a week on stuff I didn’t need until I got used to spending money. I still feel like I should ask permission, though. The card might have my name on it, but the money in the account isn’t mine.
Picking my cell up, I type out a quick message.
Me: Octy and Knight have come to visit. Octy invited me out tonight. Knight is going to drive us into town and bring us home again. But I’ll need to use the card to pay for my meal. Is that okay? I’m not sure if you’ll see this before I have to leave, but if it’s not okay, I’ll pay you back once I have a job. Please stay safe xo
The moment I hit send, I cringe and wish I could delete it, but really what else can I say? I think he’ll be okay with me going for dinner with Octy and his other friends’ wives. He was the one who gave my number to James and Cora. But if he doesn’t get a chance to reply before I have to leave, I’ll just have the cheapest thing on the menu, and then I’ll figure out a way to pay him back.
Knight and Octy stay for thirty minutes, then Knight announces it’s almost lunchtime and ushers Octy away. “We’ll swing by and pick you up about seven thirty p.m. Wear whatever you want, it’s a super casual place. Text me if you need anything,” Octy says as Knight practically carries her out of the door, muttering something about it being late for her lunchtime manual stimulation.
Once I’m alone again, I go back into the yard, pick up my plate, and carry it back into the kitchen. I could load my dirty dishes into the dishwasher, but instead I fill the sink with hot soapy water and clean my plate, silverware, and the Tupperware, carefully putting everything away before I wipe the kitchen over and head back out into the yard.
The next several hours drag. I’m antsy and nervous, and I’m not sure if it’s because Warrick still hasn’t texted or called or because I’m worried about meeting all of his friends’ wives and having to use his money to pay for my meal.
It’s after five p.m. when my cell rings. Scrambling to grab it, I sag with relief when the screen says it’s Warrick calling.
“Hi,” I exhale, bringing it to my ear.
“Amore mio.” He sounds tired, his voice weary.
“Are you okay?”
