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The smell of jasmine filtered through the open windows.
The bathroom was tiled with mosaic and had a large claw-foot tub as well as a tiled shower and large vanity.
There was a smaller bedroom on the other side of the house, with an adorable twin bed, vintage dresser and its own small bathroom. “For Violet,” Macy had said offhandedly. I’d jerked at the mention of my daughter here, in this life.
But I didn’t have time to focus on that.
Macy took me through, chattering the entire time about the work they’d done, the complaints that Hansen had about the tub and how he’d eaten his words once it was put in.
There was certainly more information which I missed because I was taking in the house. Macy didn’t seem to mind that I hadn’t said a word during the ‘tour.’
We ended up back in the kitchen, sipping coffee and nibbling on our pastries. I did so mindlessly, unable to process what was happening.
Conversations were going on around me, conversations that no one required my input for. Luckily.
“So we’ll set a day to go shopping for some touches to make it yours,” Macy’s words jerked me out of my reverie.
“I’ll be coming,” Freya chirped. “My house needs a refresh too.”
Hades raised a brow but didn’t say anything. He didn’t speak often in groups, just did his badass, hot guy glowering thing. Except, of course, when he was looking at his wife. Then it changed into a badass, hot guy melty look.
“And me,” Caroline added.
“Babe, our house is done,” Jagger groaned, obviously not content to just glower.
She scowled at him. “It is nowhere near done. I need an ottoman for my office and some more planters for the garden. And I need shoes.”
Jagger’s lips twitched. “Managed to slip that in there, didn’t you?”
She smiled back sweetly.
“Let us know if there’s anything you want us to haul out. Can get a coupla’ prospects to do it,” Hansen offered. He was leaning against the breakfast bar.
Macy’s eyes narrowed at him. “What would she want to haul out?”
“Babe,” he pointed, “right over there is a purple couch.”
“I know,” she scoffed, hands on her hips. “It’s vintage. It took me months to find.”
“It took you months to find an old purple couch?” Hansen clarified.
Macy’s expression was stormy. “It is not old, it’s vintage.”
Hansen’s eyes twinkled in the face of his wife’s fury. “Vintage is a fancy word for old.”
When it looked like Macy’s head was about to explode, I decided it was time for me to step in. “I love the couch,” I interjected.
“See,” Macy beamed in triumph. “She loves the couch.”
“She values her life,” Hansen corrected.
Macy’s toothy smile quickly morphed into a scowl. “Don’t you have badass biker things to do? Because that, my dear, is your area of expertise, and you don’t see me advising on the best ways to disembowel someone or how to radiate masculinity. Stick to your strengths.”
Hansen was full on laughing now, as was practically everyone else in the audience.
He stepped forward, bringing Macy in for a kiss that definitely did not need an audience. I burned with envy for a second, wishing that Swiss was here to verbally spar with me, smile at me, kiss me.
“We do have shit to do, as it happens.” He stepped back from his wife then nodded to his brothers who had also been making out with their women.
