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I nodded. “I’m game.” I think I’d had it once in college, but it had been awhile.
“Keep ‘em coming,” Ally said to the waitress. She made a finger wave toward the bar. “I have a DD tonight. What’s your name again? You’re new?”
She shrugged. “Ish. I’m Michelle if you need anything.”
Ally leaned in and stroked her hand down my traveler’s notebook. “Now what is this lovely little thing? Sage has me forever looking at stickers and making all sorts of pretties in my little spiral planner, but nothing like this.”
“Oh, Sage got me way down into the planner girl hole.” I laughed. “I got this off of one of those buy, sell, trade places.” I flipped open the blush pink leather journal. “I made a notebook just for Sage. I have a list area for guests, plus a few places I found where we could hold the shower. Or did you want to do it at your house? Or hers?”
“Hmm.” Ally took another sip from her drink and pushed the empty glass away, dragging the new one in front of her. “We could do it at my house. We have a nice big backyard. Can barbecue and have cute little virgin versions of umbrella drinks. She loves those.”
“Oh, that sounds fun.” I sipped at my drink between scribbles into the little insert I’d printed out at the local stationery store. It had sections for lists, dates, and a whole project page. I added reminders for myself to look up drinks to take apart and make them safe for pregnant ladies. “I read up on some foods that you can and can’t eat when you’re pregnant. Wow, quite the list.”
“I missed cheese the most. I swear, I ate a whole wheel of Brie by myself after Alex was born. I never even cared about it until the baby books told me I couldn’t have it.”
Michelle came back with our appetizer. My eyes went wide, and my tongue practically hung out. “Hello.”
Michelle laughed. “Enjoy, ladies. Need another round?”
I looked down at my nearly empty margarita. When had that happened? “I guess so.”
We had hashed out most of our ideas for the shower when suddenly, an adorably pregnant blond plopped down beside me and filched a smothered cheese curd.
A man held a napkin in front of her mouth. “Spit it out.”
Sage sealed her mouth shut and shook her head.
“Sage.” Oliver Hamilton—aka her studly husband—did not sound amused. He had the dad thing down pretty solidly.
She snatched the napkin out of his hand and did it herself. “Come on. One cheese curd won’t hurt.” She glanced up at Oliver and added a sizable pout.
“Do you know if it’s pasteurized? For sure?”
Sage slumped. “No.”
“Then no.” He smiled dow
n at her and brushed his finger along the skin behind her ear. “I’ll make you a sundae before bed.”
She smiled. “Okay, that’s acceptable.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “Hi, ladies.”
Ally slurped her margarita. “Did he really tell you to spit it out like a three-year-old?”
Sage smirked. “He knows I never spit voluntarily.”
I choked down a laugh and felt salt burn my esophagus.
As if his saucy wife had never spoken, Oliver rattled change in his pocket. “I’m well versed in such thanks to Laurie. She also likes to eat things she shouldn’t.”
Ally blew raspberries at him. “You’re not the fun uncle at all.”
“I’ll remind you of that when you eat the cookies we made tonight.”
Ally’s eyes went huge. “Oh, bonus points. Okay, you can have fun uncle status back, but only if there were chocolate chips included in said cookies.”
“Butterscotch and chocolate chip actually.”
