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“You’re right,” I agreed. “You gonna plan the wedding too?” I asked, smirking.
“Hey, there are worse people for the task. I have seen The Wedding Planner many times.”
Who the fuck was this guy?
His ridiculous Hawaiian shirts, the cooking, the rom-coms. But then there was also the fact that he’d been in the military, that he didn’t even seem to flinch about the body I’d beaten to a pulp, that he’d been the first to volunteer to deal with said body.
The parts of him seemed at odds with each other.
But, I guess, we had nothing but time to figure him out.
For now, I had a house to buy.
Sylvie - 3 months
“Come on, you have to have some input,” I said as Voss frantically searched for his keys, wanting to get out of the house before the princesses descended with magazines and Pinterest boards full of ideas for how to decorate the house.
“Not a fucking thing,” he claimed patting his pockets for the third time. “Make sure they know that,” he added, looking terrified. Like the girls were planning on tracking him down, backing him up against a wall, and making him look at color schemes until his eyes bled or something.
“You’re being dramatic,” I told him as I rubbed Nitro’s head. He was sitting beside me on the blanket bed I’d created on the living room floor since we didn’t have any actual furniture yet.
I’d had some stuff at my apartment. But, honestly, it was all super cheap crap since that was all I could afford.
I’d ended up donating all of it, wanting to start over in our new house.
Our new house.
I was still having a hard time believing this was life now.
I mean, it all happened so fast. I guess I wasn’t supposed to feel super settled about it.
“You don’t know them as well as I do yet,” Voss declared, finding his keys, then making his way toward us, leaning down to give me a quick kiss. “Take care of her for me, okay?” he asked Nitro, rubbing his neck, then making his way to the door. “I’ll be at the club. If you need rescuing, send me a text.”
“And you’ll come save me from the girls?” I asked, dubious.
“Fuck no. I’ll send Sully.”
“How is that going to help? He would just join the party.”
“Dunno, babe. That’s all I got for a rescue plan.”
“Really? Can’t fake a shootout or another kidnapping?”
“Listen, don’t joke about that shit in this town,” he said, shaking his head, but his lips twitched. “It’s all around every corner, I swear. Fuck, they’re here,” he said, turning and making his way down the front path.
“Awww, that’s so cute. He’s scared of us,” Layna declared, walking in with a big basket full of food and snacks.
“I’ve never seen him so frantic,” I confirmed.
“In his defense, this is my fucking nightmare too,” a woman I didn’t recognize declared as she moved inside, walking like something hurt.
I hadn’t met her yet, but there was no mistaking who this was.
Hope.
Who had been working on some sort of live-in situation for a guy the princesses didn’t want the club to know about.
I guess some part of me had figured that the girls wouldn’t keep secrets from the club, from their extended family. Clearly, though, they were a force all their own, and didn’t always want the men in their lives in their personal business.
“Hey, Hope,” I said, giving her a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You won’t be thinking that when she starts bitching about how wood stain and wallpaper doesn’t matter,” Vi said, following her in, carrying a big bottle of pre-mixed margaritas and a houseplant. “Willa picked this out,” she said, jiggling the plant. “I picked this,” she said, raising the bottle.
“Both solid choices,” I told her, silently thankful to Willa for picking one of those hard-to-kill houseplants, because I did not have a good hand with them. “Is Willa coming?”
“She’s running late,” Gracie said, breezing in with bags hanging off her arms, a charcuterie board in one hand, and a bottle of wine in the other. “She had a doctor’s appointment,” she added. “I brought cups and plates and throwaway utensils. I figured you don’t have all that sorted yet.”
God, she was good.
I was ninety percent sure that this entire group would fall apart if not for Gracie and her foresight.
“And Luna said that if you need any help picking out shelving units, she’s your girl. You know, because she has about fifty-thousand books, so she knows which ones have shelves that can hold weight without buckling. But that she’s otherwise useless at this sort of thing.”
“Which is code for she found a new romance hero to swoon over, so she doesn’t want to come out,” Vi said with a smile, clearly not offended at taking second fiddle to a book. None of us were.
