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“Yeah…didn’t you get the text invite?”
I stared at him a moment before shrugging. “It must’ve gotten lost in the mail. I think I’ll drive myself over.”
“You mean, he really didn’t—” Ham cut himself off before slicing me a worried glance. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? If he didn’t invite you...”
“What?” I asked. “You don’t think I should crash the party? I think that’s a great idea.” I rummaged through a pile of jeans on the floor, picking a few up and sniff testing them before deciding which was the cleanest. “See you guys there, okay? I’m going to shower first.”
Stalling, Ham kept watching me. “Hey, just…” He glanced toward the doorway and moved closer to me. Lowering his voice, he said, “Please
don’t cause a scene or do anything that might upset Zoey. Any emotional distress for her right now—”
I patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Dad. I would never do anything to hurt your baby.”
Hamilton blew out a breath and nodded, but his eyes were still full of worry. And they should be, because I was so in the mood to cause a scene.
Half an hour later, I strolled into Gam’s backyard. Everyone else had already arrived. Most of the woman were gathered around Zwinn and talking baby shit. Blondie cradled her midsection like she did every time I saw her these days, and I noticed Caroline was next to her. Her back was to me as Milk Tits and Buttercup chattered at them, laughing about...fuck, who knew what.
“Ten.” Gamble’s surprised voice made me glance to my left where he was slowly walking my way.
“Hey.” My voice was fairly pleasant for how nastily I glared at him. “Thanks for the invite, asswipe.”
I brushed past him and went to his wife, where she was fretting over the food table. “Shakespeare,” I greeted with a smile. “Congratulations.” I pulled a round block of red wood from my pocket and handed it to her.
“Aww,” she said, taking it. “An apple figurine. Thank you, Ten.”
“And it doubles as a pencil holder.” I pointed out the holes.
She studied it, smiling appreciatively. “That’s so sweet. You didn’t have to get me anything.”
I just shrugged and without my permission, my gaze strayed across the yard.
“Yeah, Ten,” Gamble said from behind me. I whirled back to find him slipping an arm over Shakespeare’s shoulders. “You didn’t have to get her anything, especially if you thought buttering her up would convince her to talk me into doing something I’m not fucking going to do.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I told you I wasn’t asking for your permission.”
“And I told you what I’d do if you went anywhere near her.”
“Oh...so first I couldn’t ask her out, but now I can’t even go near her, huh? Pretty soon you’re going to kick my ass if I even think about her.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t think about her, then,” he suggested, grinding his teeth.
“Maybe you should stop being such a dick,” I snarled back.
“Or maybe we should eat now,” Aspen broke in too brightly, wringing her hands as she glanced between us. “Did you hear that, everyone?” She lifted her voice to gain the crowd’s attention. “The food’s ready, so just…dive in.”
Gamble and I shared one last glare before backing away from each other to let his brothers get to the table and start piling their plates.
I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t exactly move away from the food line. Caroline was approaching with the women, so I wasn’t going anywhere.
I’m not sure where Lowe and Hart came from, but I found them flanking me as they started a conversation with each other about fuck knows what. I didn’t listen to a word they said. I didn’t look at Caroline directly either. I stared at the ground in front the food table, and settled for focusing on her from the corner of my eye. When she had to walk right past me after filling her plate, she didn’t look at me, though. I lifted my eyes in that split second she moved by and she completely fucking ignored me.
I drew in a long breath, but I don’t think I got any air. I felt like I inhaled only a lungful of agony.
“Ouch,” Hart murmured quietly beside me.
I ignored him and turned to Lowe. “A week?” I said, lifting my eyebrows.
“Two weeks,” he revised, glancing after Caroline and wincing. “Definitely two weeks.”
