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Slash paused, and then he said, “Hi, Jazz.”
“Hi, Slash! Brooklyn, I’m gonna step outside and—yeah.”
A moment later, the front door closed. I took Slash off speaker and put the phone to my ear.
“Where are you?” Slash asked.
“Home.”
“Which home. Yours or ours?”
Warmth curled through me. “Ours.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Baking pies.”
“What are you wearing?”
“Nothing but an apron.”
“Liar.”
I chuckled. “Stretchy pants and a sweater. No bra.”
“What kind of pies?”
“Banana cream, chocolate cream, lemon meringue, apple, and I took it a step further and made strawberry shortcake. But instead of cake, I made biscuit-scone things.”
“Who are you trying to feed? An army?”
“I’m having a party. Well, it kind of turned into a party by accident. It started with me inviting Jazz over, and then Duke wanted to come, and then Jazz invited Brielle, and it kinda grew.”
“I like it, babe. I like that you’re having people over. Wish I was there.”
“Me too.”
“Acid and I are in Coeur d’Alene now. We’re taking care of some shit, and in a few days we’ll be heading back.”
“Good,” I said. “I have an appointment at the doctor’s later next week. First ultrasound.”
He sighed. “Woman.”
The way he said that word, like he was claiming and possessing me, had shivers racing down my entire spine. Desire swirled low in my belly.
“I’ll be back by then,” he promised.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” I grinned even though he couldn’t see me. My other line beeped. I looked at the screen and saw Diane Huddleston’s name appear. “Slash? That’s my other line and I have to take it.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Lo—okay.” I hastily shoved the word back into my mouth and then clicked over. “Hello?”
“Hi, Brooklyn? This is Diane.”
