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“What did she say?”
Bryce fiddled with a button on his shirt. “She said I had some growing up to do. But she was really nice about it, too. She didn’t lecture me.”
“Do you think she has a point?”
“Probably.” He sighed. “Well. I should go. See you, Colleen.” He walked away, and Colleen couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him.
“So, hotshot.”
She looked behind her, and there stood Lucas. “Spaniard.” The slow curl of warmth unfurled in her stomach.
“You busy later?” he said, pulling on his shirt. Pity.
“I’m always busy,” she murmured.
“You want to come over when you’re not? Set my apartment on fire this time?”
“Is that a metaphor for sex?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Then yes.”
He grabbed her, gave her a quick, hard kiss, copped a feel and went off, smiling over his shoulder.
Le sigh.
Fifteen minutes later, when Team Menopause had been wrangled out (and Levi had ticketed Carol for parking in front of a hydrant), Mom gave Rufus his third piece of bacon, put her hands on her hips and gave Colleen a look. “So? Are you staying or what?”
“Aw. That’s so sweet, Mom. Why? You have plans?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Rufus stole a fourth bacon strip, then licked Mom’s hand.
“Strip clubs with Carol?”
“No, I have a date.”
“Stan, Stan the Hairy Man getting a second chance?”
“No, that’s over. He sent me a picture of his junk, and if you thought his back was hairy—”
“Hail Mary, full of grace—”
“Oh, stop.”
“You stop. Please. I beg you to stop.”
“Fine.” Her mother looked at her watch. “I do have a date, and you must have plans with that Lucas. Are you getting married, you two?”
“We’re in a purely physical relationship right now.”
Her mom raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”
Colleen shrugged, looking away. “I don’t know, Mom. I’m not looking too far down the road.”
“Carpe diem and all that?” Mom asked.
“Exactly. Don’t eat tuna.”
