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I wink. “Exactly.”
She steps to the side as I knock on the door, and she leans against the wall. I know her feet have been killing her for the last couple weeks, so I knock a little harder. The sooner we get inside and get her off her feet, the better.
For that matter, with the fake belly weight I’m carrying illustrating her suffering perfectly, the sooner we both get off of our feet, the better.
The door swings open slowly, an older woman on the other side. She swings it open, takes one look at us, and turns around without saying a word. Rocky’s eyebrows draw together as I chuckle, reaching back for her hand and stepping inside.
That must be Harriet, the housekeeper Thatch was telling us about at book club.
Rocky is hesitant, but I know this shitshow is par for the course when the Kellys are involved.
I pull her all the way down the long hallway to the kitchen, dropping her hand when we get to the end, only to give her the chance to collect herself while I step inside the mayhem first.
“Sweet Jesus, Whore-i-son, you are positively glowing,” Cap says with a grin bigger than Texas, the first to greet me as I make my debut. I turn from one side to the other, sticking my foot out in front of me in a Vogue-like pose.
I rub my stomach pointedly as Cap leads the charge in the guys’ laughter.
“Holy hell,” Thatch says with a boom as he notices my getup. “You’ve got tits.”
I laugh slightly and give an encouraging nod to Rocky as she steps up and around the corner timidly. Cap’s chortle stops midstream and turns into a choking cough as his beer goes down the wrong way. He sputters and spits and wipes at his shirt neurotically while struggling to find his voice again. When he does, it comes out a lot choppier than normal and with a little squeak. “That’s…That’s Raq-Raq-Raquel Weaver.”
An amused Ruby puts a finger under Cap’s chin and forces his mouth shut. “Shut your mouth, honeybuns. You’re starting to drool.”
“Guys, this is Rocky,” I introduce. “Rocky, these…are the guys.” I laugh as the women standing at their sides are the only ones to wave. “And their better halves in every way, their wives.”
Thatch snorts. “Suck-up.”
Cassie slams a closed fist back into his balls without delay. Rocky’s eyes widen in fear.
I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t be scared, Rock. That’s how the two of them show their love. Though, I will admit, I didn’t expect the women to be here.”
Wes nods and steps up to introduce himself. “He’s right. You’ll either get used to it or get sick of it like the rest of us. And come on…did you really think they’d hang out anywhere else while you brought home the mother of your child?” He sticks out a hand to Rocky as punctuation of his point. “Wes Lancaster. Nice to meet you.”
Obviously, he’s right. It was naïve of me to expect that the women wouldn’t be here too. And frankly, it’s probably a good thing. They’ll be a good buffer for Rocky during her first visit. Rocky steps up and takes Wes’s hand with a smile.
“Raquel Weaver.”
Wes smirks and turns to look at Cap mockingly. “Ah, gotcha. It was hard to understand Cap with the stutter.”
Winnie elbows him in the ribs at his side. “Be nice.” Then she holds out a hand of her own. “Winnie Lancaster. It’s so nice to meet you. I loved you in your movie theater commercials when we were kids. You were the cutest ever.”
Rocky laughs, teasing herself with her own line. “It’s like a big TV!”
“Yes!” Winnie shouts excitedly.
I can’t help but shake my head. “How is it possible that I had no fucking clue about any of this?”
“Too busy being a douche,” Cap says, and Ruby smacks the back of his head, correcting, “You were probably too busy with school and rugby league and living, breathing little girls to notice the ones on TV.”
Cap scowls. “How do you know so much about Whore-i-son, doll? Did you know him before me?”
Ruby rolls her eyes. “You know I only have room for you, Captain. Your personalities take up all of my time.”
Kline steps into the kitchen with a smile, a hand to the small of his wife Georgia’s back. Her cheeks are aglow with fresh blush and exertion. Clearly, the two of them have just been off getting their fix of each other. Their affection hasn’t dulled, even after all these years together.
“Welcome, Raquel,” Kline says dependably. “You’re probably going to see and hear a lot of things in this apartment tonight, but I promise, when you wake up in the morning, it’ll be like you’ve just had a bad dream.”
Thatch gives him a solid punch to the shoulder, offended, and Kline laughs, nonplussed. “They’re all harmless, but if you want a real safety net, stick with me and my wife. We’re normal.”
