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“He’ll be home for dinner?” Zara asks.
Knowing King won’t reply to my text, I place my phone down and do my best to concentrate on the day ahead rather than on the fact I miss him so much. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Tatum starts to say something but there’s another knock at the front door.
“Girlfriend,” Monroe says when I let her in, “your husband outranks mine for bossiest man alive.”
I take the bags of groceries she shoves at me. “We knew this already
, Roe. He outranks every man alive when it comes to that.”
“Well he reached a new limit with me today. Ask me where I’m supposed to be right now? And then ask me why I’m not there.”
“Oh God, what did he boss you into?”
“You’re supposed to be at the hairdresser now,” Tatum says.
Monroe nods. “Yes, I am, and yet after arguing with King for a good few minutes over it, I agreed to cancel my appointment so I could go grocery shopping. On fucking Christmas Eve. You girls know I hate grocery shopping at the best of times, but the day before Christmas is the absolute worst. Let the record show, I will not be talking to King anytime soon.”
“You gave up your hair appointment for this?” I ask, but it’s not really a question because I know she did. What I’m stunned at is that she agreed to it. Monroe gives up her hair appointments for no one.
“Let the record also show,” she says, the look in her eyes softening a touch, “that I did not do this for King. I did this for you. I know how stressed you’ve been the last couple of days with everything going on; you do not need to be anywhere near the supermarket today.”
“Well let the record show that I love you in ways you can’t even comprehend right now. And you are absolutely right; if I’d had to go grocery shopping today, I may have lost any sanity I have left.”
She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “I got you, sister. And let’s be honest, I didn’t really need to get my hair done today. It’s only been two weeks since I saw the hairdresser.”
“I know, but still, getting it done is a Christmas tradition for you.”
She shrugs. “I’m starting a new Christmas tradition this year: twelve days of not talking to King. I think I’m gonna like my new tradition much more.”
I laugh at that. There are days I’d like to start that tradition too.
“Where are the kids?” Tatum asks Monroe.
“Mum has Sage, and Hyde has Parker. Hyde got home just after five yesterday afternoon and Parker hasn’t left his side since. He’s been missing his daddy.” Monroe’s three-year-old son is the spitting image of his father and adores Hyde more than Cade adores King. And that’s saying something, because my son lives for his father.
Monroe eyes Tatum. “I have more in the car. Can you help me bring everything in?”
“I’ll help too,” I offer.
“Are the kids okay without you?”
“I’ve only got Cade home with me this morning and Zara’s keeping an eye on him. Mum took pity on me earlier and said she’d have Meredith and Travis for most of the day.”
“Okay, let’s do this and then I’m thinking you should make me a G&T with more G than T. God knows I need it after stepping foot inside Coles today. And why does it have to be so fucking hot at Christmas? Doesn’t the universe understand that cooking all the food we have to cook, and dealing with all the kid stuff we have to deal with, and all the husband bullshit we have to put up with would be so much more bearable if we weren’t sweating our asses off?”
“Yeah,” Tatum says, “I think maybe we’ll just skip the tonic altogether in your drink.”
We make our way outside to Monroe’s car at the same time one of the club’s vans pulls into the driveway. Kick jumps out with a grin on his face. “Ladies,” he greets us, and then to me, he says, “I’ve got the drinks for tomorrow. Where do you want it all?”
“Downstairs in the bar. The back door is open. Do you want a hand?”
He shakes his head as he eyes Fury’s bike. “No, you keep doing whatever you were doing. I’ll get Fury to help me.”
