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Billy rubbed his hand over his face. “Sure as hell feels like it. They’re sayin’ she’s at thirty-six weeks.”
Bullet felt for the guy. He remembered when Callie was in the last month of pregnancy with Grey. She was miserable. He doubted Renie was the same way though. She didn’t seem like the miserable sort.
“Your time’s comin’, asshole,” Billy glared at Jace.
“That why you’re offerin’ to let me be the one to go back early? You don’t wanna be around your pregnant wives?”
He didn’t doubt Billy knew exactly how far he was getting under Bullet’s skin about Tristan, but he knew how to push back. If anyone said a single thing about Renie that could be construed in a negative way, Billy went near ape-shit. Bullet smiled at him and winked.
“You think you’re so damn smart, don’t ya?” Billy snarled. “But I ain’t the one punchin’ the side of a barn.”
“Let’s have a girls’ night,” suggested Liv.
“We don’t have much choice; Billy and Jace are in Montana, Tucker’s off at a watercolor workshop somewhere in New Mexico, and Ben is on tour with the band. Who does that leave?” asked Renie.
“Dottie’s Bill, Mark, and my dad,” answered Lyric.
“Mark and your dad are with Ben and the band,” Liv responded.
“Just like my family not to tell me anything,” sulked Lyric. “Does anyone know where my mom and Gram are?”
“At Bullet’s,” answered Dottie, walking through Renie’s back door. “I came over to ask if we should invite them to the meeting tomorrow.”
“Of course we should. Don’t you agree, Tristan?”
Tristan nodded. “Of course.” All that chatter, and no one said a word about Bullet’s whereabouts. Since no one mentioned Bill Patterson either, maybe that’s who he was with.
“What about you, Dottie, are you able to join us for girls’ night?” she asked.
“I sure can, Tristan. My Bill is at the PRCA board meeting tonight. When their meeting’s over, the guys usually break out the cards. I don’t expect him back much before midnight.”
Damn. Still no clue as to where Bullet was. Maybe if she volunteered to pick Bullet’s mother and grandmother up at his house…no, that wouldn’t work. Lyric would pick up her own family.
Tristan would just have to be patient and see if anyone else worked him into the conversation. No way she’d dare ask where he was. She’d never hear the end of it if she did.
She was three of Lyric’s cocktails in when she heard Renie’s back door open again.
“Who could that be?” whispered Bree whose idea it had been to watch the entire last season of American Horror Story on Billy and Renie’s big screen television. “Who are we missing? Blythe, my mom, Lyric’s mom and grandmother are here. Who else did we invite?”
Tristan hated horror shows anyway, which was the main reason she’d downed the three cocktails. But the fact that whoever had come in the back door still hadn’t shown him- or herself, was giving her the quivers. And not the good kind.
“Oh, for goodness sake,” said Lyric’s grandmother. “I’ll go look.” Tristan wanted to beg her not to, but then again, maybe she’d turn some lights on.
Grey, who had been in the bedroom, with Willow, Caden, and Hannah Pearl, supposedly sound asleep, came padding through the living room and followed his great-grandmother. When he turned the corner into the kitchen, he let out a shriek that almost had Tristan peeing her pants.
“Dada,” he screamed.
Tristan froze. Bullet was here.
“Well, well, well. Look at all the lovely ladies. What’s goin’ on tonight?” Bullet picked up a glass on the kitchen counter and sniffed. “Smells like one of Lyric’s five-ingredient cocktails, where all five ingredients are alcohol.”
“Girls’ night. Except for Grey,” Liv giggled.
Tristan was sitting farthest away from where he stood. She had no idea whether he’d noticed her yet.
“Billy asked me to drop this off,” he said to Renie, placing a duffle bag on her kitchen counter.
Tristan watched him walk around Renie’s gourmet kitchen, tasting the hors d’oeurves spread out on the marble-topped island. “I am downright famished. You ladies wouldn’t mind if I crashed your party, would ya?”
