by Aycart, Elle
“A picture on social media from Amantis’s launch party,” Matt explained.
Fuck, she’d been more than careless. She’d been reckless. He’d known that damn party was a shitty idea.
He was about to ask for specifics when he noticed Mike approaching the pool area. “I had a feeling I’d find you here,” Mike said, sitting on a lounger next to Con. “I didn’t know you would be here,” he continued, addressing Matt, “but it’s just as well. Bruh? From the hood?” Mike’s tone was ironic. He looked back and forth from Con to Matt. “That shit might fly with the OGs, but not with me. What’s going on?”
Matt remained silent, as if letting Con decide what to do. He didn’t have to think too hard. Mike needed to know, so Con explained the whole thing as quickly and concisely as he could. His friend’s face got more and more somber the longer Con talked.
“Shit,” he hissed at the end. “You fucking kidding me?”
Con and Matt shook their heads.
“I don’t need to tell you no one can know about this,” Con said.
Mike gave him a forbidding stare. “Of course this stays here, you ass. You should have told me sooner. You’re going to need more than one pair of eyes to keep on top of things.”
“I found out recently. I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Please. So what’s the plan?”
Man, everyone asked the same thing. “I’ll tell you when I know.”
They remained silent for a long moment before Matt spoke. “I have one question, though.” He turned to Con, grimacing. “House elf? Really?”
Mike broke into laughter, as did Matt. Smart-asses.
“Where did you hear that nickname?” Con demanded.
Mike and Matt snickered. “Please. You and Audrey aren’t as discreet or as quiet as you think you are. No one goes to movie night just to watch the movie,” Mike said.
Right.
“What’s so funny, gentlemen?” Audrey asked, walking toward them. She must have just woken up, because she was still wearing her pajamas, all sweet and rumpled and cutely rubbing her eyes. She went to Connor and laid half on top of him, hugging him tightly. He kissed the top of her head.
If the way Matt was grimacing was anything to go by, he wasn’t used to seeing his sister with a man. He stood up. “I think I’m going in.”
Mike chuckled. “Me too. My wife’s away working. I don’t need you lovebirds to get me to miss her more than I already do.” The two men cleared out.
“It looks like you scared them off, little girl.”
He felt her body shake with amusement. “Pussies. You escaped the bed again once I fell asleep. What am I supposed to do, tie you to it so you’ll stay put?”
She lifted her face, and he got lost in her gorgeous eyes. Almost. “Please. Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”
“Crazy man,” she said, chuckling.
“By the way, I forgot to ask you, why did Matt call Audrey, Pudding?”
“It was her nickname. And her online-handle. She loved pudding. Weird ones, not your typical banana pudding, mind you.”
“How weird?”
“Her favorite was shredded chicken pudding.” He tried not to wince, really tried, but didn’t succeed. She chuckled softly. “Actually, it’s really good. She used to make them from scratch. Ask Matt, he tried once.”
Yeah, well, he was going to pass on that. And now that they were on the subject of her brother. “I heard your brother found you through a pic on social media taken at the Amantis’s party. What did I tell you about that damn reception?”
She scrunched her cute little nose. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”
Probably not.
“I understand your concern, and I’m sorry,” she continued, caressing his forehead, probably ironing the lines that had appeared on it. “That said, no one but my brother could have recognized me from the pic he showed me. And even he had serious doubts.”
“Still. That was a dumb move, Aud. Next time you don’t do as I say, I’ll spank you.”
She snorted and stared at him. “Please. Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”
* * *
“Come on. We took the after-picture yesterday at the cemetery,” Wilma said the next day. “This one will be the after-after. Grab the helmets and the aviator sunglasses. Audrey, this is yours. We couldn’t find one like your grandma’s, but XL took care of engraving the name in flames, so it’s pretty much the same.”
“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” Audrey said, admiring the shiny black helmet.
The rest of helmets were the same model, but without an inscription. The glasses were aviator sunglasses that the OGs probably had saved, because they looked decades old. The glass was so scratched, it would be a miracle if anyone could see through them.
“Sorry, Audrey’s bra,” Rebecca said, talking to Matt. “We don’t have any for you. Or you, Adrian.”
“I’m fine,” Matt said, looking mighty happy he was excluded. Adrian did too.
“You guys are skipping a generation. I think after-after would be my dad and Con’s dad,” Mike interjected, trying to get out of his role. “A picture with the grandchildren on the OGmobile would be the after-after-after pic, no?”
“Your dad would do it, probably, but Con’s dad would die before agreeing to get on the OGmobile,” Greta said. “Just to spite me.”
His grandma was right. His dad wouldn’t do it, much less if they were going to immortalize the feat with a picture.
“I’m okay with being in the after-after-after pic,” Rachel said, putting on Wilma’s helmet and sunglasses. “Come on, guys. Let’s do it.”
Mike grumbled something but accepted Rebecca’s helmet. Con shook his head, amused. When it came to these grannies, big, bad, scary Mike was a total pushover. And apparently so was he, because he followed suit.
“This helmet is too small for me,” Mike complained, trying it on.
“Take Greta’s, if Con doesn’t mind,” Rebecca suggested. “She got a bigger one on account of the turban.”
Mike grimaced, obviously torn between having his brain crushed or looking like Ant-Man, and stared at the helmet Con had in his hands. He offered it to Mike, but Mike refused.
“Be happy you don’t have to wear their clothes,” Rachel pointed out. “Your grandma was wearing a flowery dress with a bullet bra in the original picture.” By the look on her face, she was having a blast.
“I loved that dress,” Rebecca said with a sigh.
“We aren’t wearing dresses,” Mike said flatly.
“I totally agree,” Con muttered.
“Of course not. But maybe a flowery shirt?” Wilma suggested.
“Let’s take this damn picture now, Con, before this shit escalates from bad to worse.”
“I think doing it here, with the inn as a backdrop, is a good idea,” Greta said.
“We can always go for a ride in the OGmobile and snap the picture somewhere on the road,” Rachel offered.
Audrey clapped her hands in agreement.
Adrian, thank God, finally intervened. “There’s four of you in a vehicle that seats three, which is already against the law. Rebecca and Wilma shoehorned in the sidecar is bad enough. Mike and Rachel? No way, unless you plan to seat Rachel on top of Mike, which breaks so many regulations I don’t know where to begin.”
They started arguing. Rachel beckoned Audrey to come closer so they could see who fit where. Matt and Con looked on from behind. “Funny, these northern grannies are as pushy as ours, but without the guns,” Matt observed.
“Yep.” The OGs didn’t need guns. They were bad enough as they were. Although they did have weapons before Adrian confiscated them. “Keep me informed if you hear anything else from the cops in Texas.” It seemed like the police were putting two and two together, but Con couldn’t make up his mind whether that was a good or bad thing for his woman. She was hiding from a human trafficking ring. She couldn’t afford to add the police to that.
&
nbsp; “Sure, man. If anything changes around here, let me know too.”
Con nodded.
Matt had stayed overnight and now was heading back to Texas, which probably was a good idea. If someone was watching him, hoping to get to his sister, he might have led them to Audrey. Con had been keeping an eye out, and it seemed Matt didn’t have a tail, but he couldn’t be 100 percent sure.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” Con said as Audrey flagged him. It looked like they had agreed on a pose for the after-after-after picture.
“Come on, house elf,” she said. “As per the original picture, you sit behind me on the bike.”
Getting Mike into the sidecar was impossible. His legs were too long. So they decided to have him sit on it, his feet on the seat and Rachel sitting between them. Not exactly as per the original picture, but as close as they were going to get.
Once they had the helmets and glasses on, Con found out it was a relief that the scratched glass kept him from seeing anything, because this was something he didn’t need to see. Mike seemed to agree. Audrey and Rachel seemed to be having a ball.
“Try to look like your predecessors,” Wilma said, lifting her cell. “Give us attitude. Give us LOLO.”
“Fuck LOLO,” Mike muttered. “Rachel, how sturdy is this sidecar? Because I have a feeling we’re going to crush it.”
Rachel and Audrey broke into laughter, and Con tightened his embrace. God, he loved having Aud in his arms.
After several tries each, the three grandmas decided they had enough candidates for the wall of fame, and the grandkids were allowed off the OGmobile.
“Next time some association comes along, asking us to pose for a firefighter calendar, I’m sending them your way,” Matt said with a smirk.
Ha. Ha.
“This was eye-opening,” Matt continued, “but I’m afraid I have to go or I’ll miss my flight.”
After saying his goodbyes, Matt headed for his rental car. Con and Audrey walked with him. “Sure you can’t stay a little longer?” she asked.
Matt shook his head. “I’ve got to go back to work, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for the two of us to be together. Just in case.” He turned to Con. “Keep her out of trouble.”
“You got it.”
They shook hands. Con hugged Audrey from behind as they watched Matt drive away. “You know, I have a nagging feeling I’m forgetting something important,” she mumbled, her eyes glued to the receding car.
“You forgot to tell me the names of the loan sharks you owe money to?”
She chuckled softly. “No, that I remember, and no, I’m not telling.”
“You forgot you’re a fugitive and need to lie low?” he whispered.
“No, I remember that too.”
“Something you had to do for the inn? For the OGs? For the animal shelter?”
She kept shaking her head. “No, it’s not that.”
“Something about me?”
“I don’t think so. Don’t worry, it’ll come to me sooner or later.”
* * *
Audrey sat on the couch. Holy shit.
It had taken her two days to remember what she’d been forgetting: her damn period, which was not only late, but about to be AWOL for the next nine months, if the indicator she was staring at was anything to go by. And taking into consideration this was the sixth stick she’d peed on, all of them reading positive, she was fairly sure she was pregnant.
She didn’t understand. How? When? She’d been religiously taking her birth control pills. Her breath hitched as it dawned on her: she’d also religiously thrown up those pills on the days she’d been sick after getting caught in the storm.
She leaned back. Of course she’d gotten pregnant, because being in hiding from big-time criminals wasn’t enough. Neither was committing fraud and identity theft. Oh, and who could forget the father of the baby, who sneaked out of their bedroom whenever he could, too afraid he’d hurt her. Con was going to freak out about this. Not to mention she had no clue whether he wanted kids. The last thing she wanted now was to add more pressure on him.
She peeked at the indicator. Yep, two lines still, just like all the other tests on the table.
Man, that was why she’d been so horny lately, her tits so sensitive and heavy. It wasn’t the smut literature or the monumental sex she was having with Con. She let out a nervous laugh. Well, in a way it was—a consequence of that monumental sex.
A knock on the door made her jump.
“Boss, are you in there?” Red called out.
Audrey turned in time to see her chef’s head emerging through the opening door. Jeez, she was so going to start locking that damn door. “Come in,” she sighed, resigned.
“Sorry to bother you, but—” Red stopped. Audrey didn’t have to look to know her friend had spotted the sticks and the discarded packaging on the coffee table.
Red sat by Audrey’s side. “Is that what I think it is?”
“If you think this is an over-the-top attempt to change reality, then yes. I went overboard.”
“All of them say the same?” Red asked, grabbing one of the pregnancy tests.
“Yep. I’m pregnant,” Audrey stated out loud for the first time. Boy, those words sounded strange, as if they didn’t come from her. A total out of body experience.
“Okay,” Red said, resolute. “Are we happy about this? Do you want this baby?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. The conditions aren’t the most favorable.” Probably the wisest decision would be to end the pregnancy.
Red seemed to disagree. “I’ve seen women in worse. You have a business—yes, it’s a start-up, and you’ve got plenty of debt, but it does look promising. You have people around you who love you and treat you like family. And you have a hunk for a baby daddy who adores you. All I see are pluses.”
True, but most of that love and success was based on a lie. Only Connor knew the truth. He might love her, but starting a family—in hiding, no less—was too much to ask of him. “Things are a bit complicated,” Audrey answered curtly.
“Let’s uncomplicate them. Forget everything and answer me without thinking, just on gut instinct. Are you happy you’re pregnant?”
“Yes,” she acknowledged. She was in shock and afraid, no doubt, but also happy and excited.
“You have your answer then.”
Audrey snorted softly. “Simple as that?”
“Simple as that,” Red stated. “Which do you prefer, boy or girl? When will we know which color we should paint the extra bedroom?”
God, nothing seemed to faze Red. Audrey wondered for a second what her chef would say if Audrey told her the truth. All the truth. She entertained the notion for a second, then decided against it. There was no need to burden Red; the less she knew, the better. “Not a word to anyone.”
“Don’t worry. I know how to keep my mouth shut. You’re going to tell Con, though, right?”
“I don’t know. I guess… but not yet. This is too much to lay on him.” He had the right to know about the baby, but she didn’t want to freak him out. Her lover was skittish, to say the least.
“Then you better clean up all of this,” Red said, picking up an informational pamphlet that had fallen to the carpet. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll walk in on us like I did on you?”
“Nah, he went to Boston. He won’t be back for a couple of hours.” Nevertheless, Audrey grabbed a paper bag and started disposing of all the evidence lying around. Six pregnancy tests made for lots of garbage. “Why did you come to see me?”
“Right. I forgot. There’s a lawyer waiting for you. He said he brought some papers for you to sign.”
“Crap!” Audrey exclaimed, hurrying the cleanup. “Tell him I’ll be down in five minutes.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Sure. Owning an inn involves more paperwork than I could have ever imagined. Please, throw all this out,” Audrey begged, handing the overflowing paper bag to Red.
Red left, and Audrey sc
rambled to get ready. The real Audrey would have hated this: talking to contractors, hiring people, helping out at a moment’s notice, dealing with the paperwork and permits and inspections—all that would have been too much. At times it was even too much for fake Aud, but she owed it to her friend. It was the least she could do.
* * *
Con entered the inn and found Audrey standing on a stool, hanging pictures on the wall of the lounge. The place had always had a certain vintage vibe, but since she’d been displaying the old pics she got from the OGs, the whole inn felt like a setting from an Agatha Christie movie.
She’d enlarged the original OGmobile picture and the after-after-after one, and was hanging them side by side. When she spotted him, she smiled brightly. “How did the mediation go, house elf?”
He sighed and helped her straighten a frame. “What mediation? That was open war.”
His dad and Greta were seeing a conflict mediator, as suggested by the judge. How and why Connor had gotten dragged into it, he still didn’t know.
She climbed down the stool, laughing. “Are they having problems seeing eye to eye?”
Ha. “My dad is a control freak of the highest order, and my grandma is too old to care about catering to others. She actually said to my dad that she was going to continue doing as she pleased, and my dad was welcome to disinherit her if he wanted.”
Audrey burst into laughter. “Shouldn’t that be the other way around?”
“You’d think, but they didn’t even notice. My dad said as long as she was living under his roof, she was going to do as she was told.”
“That doesn’t make sense. She owns her own place, doesn’t she?”
“Tell me about it. Total role reversal. The session finished with my dad accusing her of doing what her girlfriends told her to do, and with her telling my dad he was a dictator.”
“Nuts,” she said. “You going back to the next appointment?”
He nodded. What else could he do? Someone had to referee, and the mediator seemed too stunned.
He pointed at the after-after-after picture she had in hand. “Are you going to hang this one too?” It was a great picture. They were all laughing, sticking their tongues out, and making hand signs, showing off their LOLO attitude.