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“Manly ways?” I asked. “Just what does that mean?”
She rolled her eyes and huffed. “As if you don’t know what I am talking about. The dirty laundry all over the floor, the pee on the toilet seat, trash sitting on the counter when the garbage can is just two feet away, or the hair.”
“Hair?” I laughed. “You had me, and then you lost me.”
She grabbed her chin. “The hairs from when they shave. They fall all over the sink, and they are too blind to see them. They sit there until they drive you insane, and then you clean them up yourself.”
“I feel these are past problems you had, Dorothy.”
She sighed heavily and sat back. “You don’t even know the half of it. I had two live-in boyfriends, and they both did all of those things and then some.”
“Then why are you trying to push Mace and me together?” I questioned.
“Because Mace or any of these guys are nothing like the dingleberries I lived with,” she explained.
“Then maybe you should be the one chasing Mace.” If Dorothy were looking for a good guy, then Mace would be the one for her.
“Girl code, Imogen. There is no chance in hell that I would ever try to snag Mace. Never going to happen. I can appreciate the fact that he is hot, but he’s yours.”
“Who?” Raelynn squeezed onto the couch next to Dorothy and kicked her feet up on the coffee table.
“Who, who?” I squeaked.
Dorothy patted my knee. “Imogen is floating down the river of denial when it comes to Mace.”
“Girl,” Mitzy drawled. She sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. She set her glass of water down and grabbed a handful of chips from the bowl Rayna set down. “Listen to me when I say this. Do not fight it.”
“Fight what?” I asked nervously.
Rayna rolled her eyes and laid out on the floor next to Mitzy. “Do not fight the hot biker who wants to protect you from everything and give you toe-curling orgasms every night.”
“I, well, blah, uh…” Oh my god. I did not want to have this conversation. “I haven’t seen Jonathon for fifteen years.”
“Say who?” Mitzy laughed. “Girl, did you just tell us his real name?”
“It is his name,” I grumbled. And now he was going to be mad I had told the girls his real name. “But I did not tell you.”
“Ha,” Mitzy scoffed. “I’ll forget it by the time we leave. I can barely remember Monk’s real name.”
“Stop,” Raelynn laughed. “You have to be kidding me.”
“I’m not,” Mitzy shrugged. “He’s Monk to me. It fits him.”
“Do all the guys have names that aren’t their names?” Dorothy asked.
“You don’t believe that Playboy is the name on his driver’s license?” Raelynn asked.
“Just wait until you meet Six-Gun or Rebel,” Mitzy laughed. “I’m pretty sure neither was named that at birth.”
“Oh, oh,” Rayna interrupted. She sat up and pointed her finger in the air. “We also have Yule now, and that is actually his name. I always want to call him yule log, but I’m pretty sure Barracuda would lock me in an insane asylum.”
“I fight the urge to do that daily,” Barracuda called.
The guys meandered back into the living room and stood around the couch.
“What were you guys doing on the deck?” Mitzy asked.
“Talking,” Playboy replied.
