“Just like the old days,” Savannah adds with a grin. My cheek is pressed to Dec’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, as he rubs his hands up and down my back. I didn’t realize how badly I needed a hug until this very minute.
“You okay?” he asks and plants his lips on my head.
“Yeah.” I don’t pull away, and instead watch Savannah as she pulls white Styrofoam containers out of plastic bags, laying the food out buffet style on my table. She has dark circles under her tired hazel eyes, and she looks way too thin in her jeans and plain black T-shirt.
“You survived your first week,” Van says, as she opens a bottle of wine and pours it into three glasses.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” I ask with a laugh, as I pull away from Dec and accept a glass.
“No, I just figured we’d use that as an excuse to celebrate,” she replies with a wink. “I brought your favorite: Italian. With fattening Alfredo sauce and lots of extra bread.”
“You do love me.” I offer Van a wide smile and snatch the bread first. “God, I love carbs. Why do I love carbs so much?”
“Because they’re bad for you,” Van replies. “They’re every woman’s kryptonite.”
“I thought that was shoes,” Declan says, as he piles his own plate high with pasta, sauce, and bread.
“No, shoes are a necessity,” I inform him soberly. “Like water.”
“Women are weird,” Dec says with a laugh, and makes himself at home on the floor, his back leaning against my sofa. His long, lean body is relaxed as he eats his dinner, and he reminds me of his older brother. Dec’s just as tall and broad in the shoulders as Eli.
The Boudreaux men are prime examples of the male species.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to fully understand each other,” I reply, and lick sauce off my finger.
“How are you?” Van asks, as she nibbles on a piece of bread. She barely took any food. I eye her plate and then stare her in the eye, but she shakes her head and narrows her eyes at me.
“I’m fine,” I reply.
“No, really,” Dec says, his usually smiling face sober now.
“No, really,” I insist. “I’m fine.”
“When was the divorce final?” Van asks.
“Sixty-four days ago,” I reply before I can catch myself, then wince when they both turn surprised gazes on me, and share a glance with each other.
“You’re counting the days and you’re fine?” Dec asks.
“Heck, yes, I’m counting the days. That divorce was hard won.” I stuff more chicken and pasta in my mouth and point at both of them with my fork. “You know that.”
“You should have let me deck him,” Declan insists. He lowers his fork to his plate, his eyes hot with temper as he glances at me. “Only a lowlife son of a bitch does what he did to you.”
“It might have been satisfying to watch you hit him.” I lick my fork clean as I think of my strong friend kicking my ex-husband’s ass. “Do you still do that Krave Magnus stuff?”
“Krav Maga,” he corrects me with a laugh. “And you should do it too. It’s great self defense.”
“I’ll just add that to my list of things to do.” I tilt my head as I watch Van push her pasta around her plate, lost in thought. “I’m thinking about becoming a lesbian and joining a nudist colony.”
“Now, that, I’d like to see,” Declan declares with a roguish grin, but then follows my gaze and swears under his breath. “She’s not listening.”
“Not even a little bit,” I agree. “Earth to Van.”
“Huh?” She jerks her gaze up and takes another long sip of her wine, then refills her glass.
“Now it’s your turn to talk.”
“We haven’t finished with you,” she says, but I just grin at her.
“Yes, we have. Dec and I just discussed me turning lesbo and joining a nudist colony.”
“I’m all for it,” Declan agrees, earning a glare from his twin sister.
“How bad are things, Van? And don’t deny it. You look like poop, and you deflect when asked. I’m the master of those tactics.”
She glances nervously at her brother and then back at me. “You don’t need to worry—”
“Spill it, Van.” Dec’s voice is calm, his posture relaxed, but every muscle in his body is on high alert.
He’s ready to kick butt.
And so am I, for that matter.
“Things just aren’t going very well,” Savannah murmurs softly.
“Is he hurting you?” Declan asks.
“He’s…ignoring me.” She sets her plate aside and pulls her knees up into her chest, hugging her legs tight. “Unless he can’t find something, he just pretty much does his own thing.”
“Who else is he doing?” I ask, and set my own finished dinner aside, then just raise a brow when Van stares at me and chews her bottom lip.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going to grab Eli and Beau, and we’re going to—”
“Nothing,” Van insists, laying her hand on Dec’s shoulder. “You’re going to do nothing.”
“Fuck that, Vanny,” he says and stares at her as if she’s lost her mind. “He’s fucking around on you and you want us to ignore it?”
“I don’t have proof.” She shrugs and smiles sadly. “It’s just a hunch.”
“Promise me,” Dec says and pulls her close to hug her, “that you’ll call me, day or night, if you need me.”
“I will.”
“If you find proof—” I begin.
“I’ll kick his ass myself,” she finishes. She pulls out of Declan’s embrace and begins cleaning up.
“See, this is exactly why I’m not ever getting married,” Dec says. “I’d kill myself before I’d hurt a woman, and that seems to be all marriage is good for. Pain.”
“Mom and Dad were married for more than thirty-five years,” Van reminds him.
“Mine have been married for thirty-five,” I add. “They’re not all bad.”
“Still, I’ll stick to the way things have always been.”
“Why are all my brothers man-whores?” Van asks me, as if Dec’s not sitting right next to her.
“Because they’re all hot and sexy and have women falling at their feet?”
“You think I’m hot and sexy?” Dec asks with a charming smile. “Aww, dawlin’. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Are you falling at Eli’s feet?” Van asks, surprising me. Declan sobers and they both stare at me with matching hazel eyes.
“Heck no,” I insist. “I don’t fall at any man’s feet.”
“Atta girl.” Van salutes me with her wine and drains the glass.
“Oh, by the way, Mama has given us instructions to bring you to dinner on Sunday.” Declan grins. “I’ll pick you up on my way over.”
“I don’t want to intrude on your family dinner.”
“She might kill us if we don’t bring you,” Van assures me.
“Or not feed us, which would be worse,” Declan adds. “You’re coming.”
“Thank you,” I reply and grin at my friends. “It’s good to see you guys.”
“It’s you we’re happy to see, dawlin’,” Declan replies with a wink. “Did you bring dessert, Vanny?”
“Of course.”
“Stop holdin’ out on me.”
***
I sleep late the next morning. My biggest vice is sleeping late on the weekends. I despise the alarm clock. I open my eyes slowly and stretch in the soft king sized bed, then lie on my back and stare out the French doors at the bright blue sky.
As I begin to ponder what might be on today’s agenda, my doorbell rings.
I glance at the clock and scowl. It’s nine in the freaking morning on a Saturday. Who in the world could be ringing my bell?
I climb out of bed and don’t even bother to throw a robe over my tank and pink frilly panties. Whoever is stupid enough to show up at my place at this hour is just going to have to take me the way they get me.
It’s most likely Savannah anyway. She always was a morning person.
I hate that.
I yank the door open and scrub my free hand over my face. “Seriously, Van, you just left here like six hours ago. Did you forget something?”
“Savannah was here until three this morning?”
I drop my hand and stare up in shock at a grinning Eli. His whiskey eyes are shining as he takes in my sleepy appearance, from the top of my ratted head, down my braless front, making my nipples pucker, thank you very much, to my pink tipped toes. On his way back up, his jaw drops when he sees my panties.