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“I will be if my mom gets the hell out of the way.” Harm emptied the bottle into her glass and then tossed it into the recycling bin.
“Not that my mom was the best mother …” Or the most reliable, or even the most sober. “But wouldn’t most moms want their daughter to have this opportunity?”
Harm’s face went flat. “You don’t know Livinia. Wicked witch, remember?”
“She can’t be that bad.”
“She is,” the three of them said in unison.
“So, we’re back to sex tape or accidental boob pic?” Lyric turned to Heath. “I don’t think tonight’s going to be enough, though it should get the ball rolling. What do you think?”
“What happened tonight?” Dalton could barely keep up. It was like watching a ping-pong match where everyone was playing in shorthand.
“Well, Harmony?” Heath looked at her expectantly. “You want to fill Dalton in on what happened?”
“There’s nothing to fill him in about.”
“I’m not so sure I would agree. It was a hell of a three-ring circus for a little while.” Heath bit his top lip to keep from laughing.
“Two hours to be exact.” Lyric nodded, but one look from Harm had her diving back behind her computer to hide.
And that’s when he got it. “Wait a minute, are you the hot girl looking for a date tonight?” It had been all over his news feed when he’d been searching for the root of the SWAT problem. He’d even seen an aerial pic of a curvy girl in a gold bikini. He just hadn’t put it together. But now that he had, he couldn’t help grinning. “Looking for a date to make me jealous, huh?”
“No.” It was way too fast and high pitched to be true.
“Aww, that’s so sweet.” He pulled her in for another hug and felt her thaw ever so slightly, even as she dug her heel into the top of his foot. But he’d worn his steel-toed hiking boots for a reason. When trying to woo a woman like Five-Alarm Harm, a guy could never be too careful. “I like you too.”
He kissed her hard on the mouth. He took the fact that she didn’t bite his tongue off as a good sign.
“They’re not about to have sex in our kitchen are they?” Heath made gagging noises. “We might have to move if they do.”
“Hopefully they’ll wait until after dinner. I’m hungry. That popcorn didn’t fill me up the way it usually does.” Lyric put a hand on her stomach. “Besides, there’s not a square inch of that countertop we haven’t already done it on.”
Harm stepped back and made her own gagging noises. “I cook here, people.”
“Babe, remember, what we do in private is private.” Heath’s face was turning a nice shade of red.
“This from a man who just last year actually did have a sex tape that hit the tabloids.” Dalton couldn’t believe the man Heath had become since getting married. Lyric seemed to level him out.
“Really?” Lyric turned to Heath. “Can I watch it?”
“No, you can’t watch it.” Heath’s face was full-on maraschino.
“Why not? It would be good to get a third-party look at your technique. I’m going to Google it.” She turned back to her laptop.
Heath closed it. “I don’t need constructive criticism.”
“Sure you do. There’s always room for improvement.” Lyric was dead serious.
Heath looked at Dalton. “My wife is an astrophysicist and processes everything analytically. So when she says that everyone has room for improvement, she means—”
“What’s the big deal?” Lyric looked around. “If I had a sex tape I’d let you see it and give me constructive criticism.”
“Honey, if you have a sex tape, I’d better be in it with you.” Heath stood and gently pulled Lyric up with him. “We’re going out for dinner.”
“What?” Harm practically vaulted the island to get to them.
“We think it’s best.” Lyric put her arm around her sister’s shoulder. “Those individual meatloaves have put the fear of God into Heath. He still remembers the Ex-Lax chocolate chip cookie episode.”
