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“He said he’ll be back in town by then.”
“Exciting.” She bit her lip.
“What?”
“Am I allowed to ask questions about the future, or will they freak you out?”
“Yes, you can ask questions.” I chuckled.
“It’s less a question and more of a suggestion. It’s about the nursery.”
“What about it?”
“When the time comes that you’re ready to get the furniture and paint and everything, you should ask Brielle.”
I blinked. “That’s a stellar idea. I didn’t even think about it. Though, to be honest, I’m trying not to think too far into the future.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It’s true.”
“Okay.” She rolled her eyes.
“Seriously.”
“So you really haven’t thought about something more permanent than renting a house?”
“No.”
“And you haven’t thought about getting Slash’s name tattooed on you?”
“Are you finished with your pie?” I demanded.
“Okay, okay. I can take a hint. You don’t like to be bugged into answering questions.”
“Speaking of bugging someone about their private life, you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Homer?”
Her eyes widened. She hastily looked at her watch-less wrist. “Oh, my, look at the time. I have to pickle my hair and wash my cucumbers.”
I smirked. “Game, set, match.”
“I won’t bug you about Slash, and you don’t bug me about Homer.”
“So thereisa you and Homer?”
“Brooklyn! You promised.”
“When did I promise?”
“Please don’t ask me about him,” she said, all levity suddenly gone. “And please, don’t ask me about him around Brielle.”
I sat back in my chair. “I think I finally understand something about you, Jazz. You’re loud and in your face, so people don’t look too closely at the real you. Am I right?”
“Ugh. Yes.” She glanced at the oven. “I really do have to go though. We good?”
“We’re good.”
“We didn’t finalize the O’Sullivan cake,” she said. “We discussed it last night before the party, but did we settle on anything?”
