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“Same,” Holly laughs with a wave of her hand. “As much as I like a good alpha in books, I’m all about the golden retriever energy.”
I used to think that was my preference too.
I can feel the book club vibe as soon as we reach the top of the steps. There are five other women sitting around three tables that have been pushed together, chatting and laughing like old friends.
“You know how I love an older man who knows what he’s doing in the bedroom.”
“Yes, Candace, we all know your preference.”
“I don’t think I could plan my ex’s wedding. I’d rather chop off his dick.”
“I know your ex, and no one is lining up to marry his ass. You deserve an award.”
“Or some really good sex.”
I’ve found my people.
“Hey, guys,” Holly says loudly enough to get their attention as she pulls me up next to her and throws her arm around my shoulders. “We’ve got some fresh meat tonight. This is Avery, lover of sex novels, and soon to be author of one.”
That wasn’t going to be what I’d have led with, but judging by the welcoming smiles, they love it. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised if this is their reading preference.
“That’s great. I love having writer friends.” A very petite blonde pats the empty seat next to her. “Everyone calls me Pixie. That’s Margot.” She points around the table, and everyone gives me a small wave or polite smile. “Lilian, Jackie, and that one’s Eliza. You gotta watch out for her. She’s the sassy one.”
“Rude,” Jackie calls out, pointing at us from across the table. “I thought I was the sassy one. Come on, now that we’re all friends, we have some hot ex-Navy SEAL penis to talk about. Y’all bitches don’t pick age-gap books very often.”
The group breaks out in a fit of giggles, and this is how the next hour and a half goes. It’s mostly an excuse to talk about sex, with some books on the side. But I now know that Eliza is happily married to a man that treats oral sex like an Olympic sport, Lilian is divorced and currently dating a firefighter and a bartender—no one thinks that’s going to end well, and Jackie is a bit of a cougar with an addiction to assholes.
My track record for dating hockey players doesn’t seem so abnormal.
Once the girls leave, Holly makes me pull out my notebook and she word vomits for the next hour, telling me all about self-publishing. I’ve written so much, my hand cramps.
She even gives me the contacts for her editors, cover designers, and her own info with a strict demand to message her tomorrow. She’s a blessing, and I feel so much better about the whole process.
The best part? She totally forgets to grill me about Foster, so I make a quick escape and head home.
I can’t wait to see my boys.
Foster offered to babysit, and I’m not sure what to expect when I get home. I gave him a laundry list of instructions, and instead of writing things down, he practically pushed me out the door and told me he’s got this.
There’s a strong likelihood I’m walking into a disaster zone, and as I open the door, I’m hit with several things at once.
Foster is shirtless.
He’s shirtless dancing around my living room with Mason, who is also shirtless, and being held gently against Foster’s chest. Ed Sheeren’sPerfectis playing from his phone which is on the ottoman, and he’s singing along. He’s singing to my baby and rocking him against a torso I can’t tear my eyes away from.
“Hey, Princess.” Foster smiles when he sees me but doesn’t stop rocking back and forth.
My jaw drops. It literally drops on the floor like a cartoon. “Are you dancing? Shirtless?”
“Yeah. I read babies like skin-to-skin contact.” He shrugs like everything he just said is the most natural thing in the world and he hasn’t just blown my mind—along with my ovaries. “And music. Babies also like music.”
Who is this man and what has he done with Foster, the bad-ass hockey player and well-known ladies’ man?
He looked it up?He fucking looked up baby stuff in his limited spare time.
Foster adjusts Mason and places a quick kiss to the top of his head. “He was a perfect little angel while you were gone. We watched hockey together, and he also thinks we’re going to kick LA’s butt this weekend. He had his bottle no problem, and we shooed Gloria away when she showed up for a peep show.”
He’s still humming, still moving around, and still talking while I’m standing here with my mouth open, unable to say or do anything but stare.
