by Silla Webb
Before I can answer her, chuckling to my right catches my attention. I look over to take in the current state of my nephew and Belle’s partner in crime.
“Auntie,” he laughs, “that was almost as good as that time you were too oily and swid off your fwoat at the water park and had to swide down on your bare butt.”
Oh God, I don’t wanna remember that. My ass hurts just thinking about the wedgie I was sure I was going to have to surgically remove that day after our trip to the waterpark. Belle’s eyes are wide, and I can tell the questions are coming. That little girl, her mind is always going.
“What happened in here, guys?” I ask, raising myself to a sitting position.
“Kenny wouldn’t wisten,” Belle is all too quick to explain, huffing as she palms her face. “But he is a boy.” She shrugs as if saying that explains it; he is a boy so he doesn’t listen, but what can you do. That kid.
“I wisten! You’s wrong.” Kenny points his little finger at her animatedly.
I sigh to nobody in particular and survey the damage. Chocolate syrup lines the marble countertop, the bottle turned over on its side, and the contents running out. Ah! That would explain the liquid mess that is currently coating my ass and legs and the reason for my spill into the kitchen. Heaps of powdered sugar coats the countertops, a dusting sprinkled around the floor and the edges of both kiddo’s mouths. Ah shit—they’ve been eating straight sugar.
“What is the oven doing open?” I ask incredulously. “You’re too little to use an Easy Bake, let alone the real deal there, Martha Stewart.”
“Who’s Martha Stewart?” Ken-man shrugs and looks at Belle, who is already preparing her argument.
“We’s gettin’ it ready, JoJo,” Belle explains as if I’m an idiot for even asking. I shake my head and fight back a chuckle. These two—I never know what to do with them. They’re so damn cute it’s almost impossible to stay mad at them. I normally leave the scolding to the parents. I’m the cool aunt to Kenny and Belle’s new BFF.
“Can we still bake cookies, Auntie?” Kenny asks, eyes all drooped. Shit, he’s been hanging out with Belle too much. She’s taught him the puppy dog eyes.
And because they both have me wrapped around their stubby sugar and chocolate-coated fingers, I relent and agree.
“Yep, but we gotta get this mess cleaned up before M …" My sentence is cut off by the sound of the front door opening and two voices unmistakably bickering at each other. It only takes a couple words for me to recognize the voices as Maverick and Bryn. Those two are a textbook case of sexual frustration and hate fucking.
“What’s the matter, manwhore?” Bryn’s voice is laced in venom. “Run out of willing holes to keep you busy on a Friday night?”
I hear Maverick chuckle as their voices get closer to the kitchen. I need to warn them about being careful where they step, but I’m too interested in what his comeback will be.
“I’m still waiting for you to pencil me in,” he retorts with a snide smirk, leaving her behind him with her hands on her hips and fire billowing from her ears as he steps across the threshold into the kitchen.
“WAIT...” I yell, but it’s too late. Like a scene from a circus act, Maverick’s arms flail wildly as his feet slide in opposite directions. It plays out like I’m watching in slow motion. Desperate to break his fall, he grasps for anything to hold on to which unfortunately ends up being Bryn’s waist. Holy shitballs, this is so not going to be good. Bryn lets out high pitched, “What the fuck,” before Maverick lands directly on his ass beside me on the tile floor, and Bryn topples down with him. Her head is cradled in Maverick’s lap, and her legs are tangled around mine. How the hell is it that all three supposed adults in the room are the ones covered in gunk and splayed across the floor?
“Is that fuckin’ chocolate?” Bryn shrieks, studying her arm. The expression on her face could only be understood as sheer terror. “Jo, please tell me that’s chocolate and not shit?”
“That’s five dollas each time you’s say a dirty word!” Belle informs them, shaking her finger at them. “You’s both said the dirty words. Lots!”
“Fuuuu—nky.” Maverick catches himself. The guys have been trying to clean up their language around her. Bryn and I snort at his attempt to cover up the language violation.
“Let’s go, Belle,” Kenny says. “We’s can watch Spongebob.”
“Yeah!” She claps, then waves her hand as she steps overtop of me. “They’s old. It will take them at least one episode to get up from there.”
“I am not old,” I tell their retreating backs, still covered in sugar that will no doubt have to be scrubbed from the couch later. Madden is so gonna spank my ass.
“Little shits,” Maverick mumbles.
“Five more dollas,” Belle shouts from the next room.
“That kid,” Bryn says, laughing, “I kind of want to steal her.”
“Belle likes me best,” Maverick chimes in, and I pat his shoulder as if I’m pacifying him because, well, that’s simply not true. Belle loves me the best.
“Speaking of S-H-I-T,” Bryn says, making sure to spell and not gain herself another five-dollar citation. She motions to her arm. “This is not that, right?” she asks, nodding toward the dark brown liquid gathered on her wrist. Before I can assure her it is in fact chocolate, Maverick dips his head and proceeds to lick the chocolate from her wrist, seductively. Holy hell, it’s like watching real live porn from the front row.
“What the fuck?” comes from the back door. Madden has picked that exact moment to walk in. Maverick, Bryn, and I are covered in sugar and chocolate splayed out on top of each other on our kitchen floor, and Maverick is licking chocolate off of Bryn’s body. Madden’s mind has gone straight to the gutter, and I don’t blame him; mine did too. Bryn and I bust out laughing, and Maverick shrugs like this is a natural predicament for him. Like he gets caught on the floor with two women licking chocolate from their bodies on the daily. Hell, based on the stories I’ve heard, it probably is.
“I always miss the good stuff,” comes from Carter who’s now standing behind Madden.
Madden makes his way over to me and pulls me up into his strong arms, which keep getting more defined. I love to watch him workout; it’s so freaking hot. He takes in my current state, chocolate all over my ass, sugar in my hair, and shakes his head. He takes in the rest of the mess that is our kitchen with a sugar-coating. I know what he’s going to say before he even gets one word out.
“Five minutes!” I exclaim, “Babe, I was only gone to the bathroom for five minutes.”
“I’d like to have five minutes alone with you.” Maverick smirks at Bryn, who is now standing beside him having removed herself from the floor.
“Never gonna happen, pretty boy.” She pats his face with her sugar-covered hand then turns and walks down the hall. We all watch Maverick follow her like a puppy dog hot on her heels.
“They need to fuck and get it over with,” Carter muses. Madden and I both shake our heads because he’s right. The sexual tension is stifling with those two.
“What the fuck, Jordan?” the question comes from Laney who has now made her presence from behind Carter known. You can’t mistake the grimace that covers her husband’s face at the sound of her voice. I look over at my friend expecting to find her face full of humor. I mean, really what does she have to be mad about? This isn’t her home; she doesn’t have to clean it up. Laney has always been down to have some fun. It’s not humor I find on one of my oldest and closest friend’s face, though. It’s the complete opposite actually. Laney looks disgusted and furious, but I have no clue why.
“Huh?” I don’t follow this anger radiating from her.
“How the hell are you ever going to be worth anything to him”—she nods toward my boyfriend— “if you can’t even keep his kid safe for a couple hours in your own home?”
Ouch, that fucking cut. The silence that follows her tantrum is stiff and so tense you can hear a pin drop in the kitchen. Carter c
loses his eyes, a grimace on his face. Anger radiates off Madden, and he pulls me closer to his body, almost as if he’s protecting me from Laney’s wrath.
“The fuck is your problem, Lan?” Madden booms. I pat his arm gently, hoping to calm him. The last thing we need is for he and Carter to end up at each other’s throats.
“I don’t see how I put her in danger,” I say to everyone in the room, but mainly to Laney. I turn my head and lock eyes with Madden. “You know I’d never put Belle in danger, right?” He hugs me closer and places a small kiss on my temple as he takes a moment to breathe me in.
He whispers, “Darlin’, I know.”
“It doesn’t matter if you meant to do it,” comes Laney’s shrill voice interrupting our sweet moment. “It happened. It’s time someone be honest with you, Jordan.” She sighs like she’s doing everyone a favor. “You have no business having any part of that little girl’s life. You have no idea how to take care of children.”
“Lan,” Carter speaks finally, “this is not the time or the place.” His tone is placating and calm which leads me to believe that he’s already had this conversation with his wife.
“Whatever!” She throws her hand up in defeat. “If you want to stay here and pretend everything is okay that’s fine, but I am fucking not.” She turns and struts from the room before any of us can get a word in edgewise. Carter remains still, head bowed and eyes focused on the floor.
What the hell just happened? Laney hasn’t been herself lately, and like a match to a fuse, it was only a matter of time before she blew up. I never imagined she’d blow up at me.
“We just found out this week that Laney can’t have kids, and she’s strugglin’ to accept that.” Carter’s voice cuts through the silence, and he speaks so low I can barely make out what all he said. I piece the words together in my mind and come to the startling conclusion of—Oh fuck!
I raise my hand to cover the gasp that has made its way up my throat. “Carter, I’m so sorry. Why hasn’t she reached out to me?” Carter shrugs silently. “There has to be a reason, Carter. I’ve called her. I’ve texted her. She hasn’t joined Bryn and me for brunch in weeks.” I search my memory, trying to remember the last time I actually talked to Laney. It was Thanksgiving. But now that I really think about it, she’d been very short and curt with me even before then. It seems like everything started after the tea party. Have I been so selfish and wrapped up in my own life that I’ve been oblivious to everything else? I turn and shake my head at Madden, so shocked beyond disbelief and unsure of what to do. He rubs his hands up and down my arms in comfort.
“I’m gonna…” Carter motions over his shoulder toward the door, indicating he’s going to go after his wife. I nod quietly, but as Carter turns toward the back door, Madden’s voice penetrates the air.
“Carter.” Madden sighs, and his hand tremors at my waist. “I hate to hear that for you guys, man, I really do. But I would be shit of a man if I didn’t say the way she lashed out at my woman was completely unacceptable.”
Carter studies Madden for a second before he nods. “I’m sorry, y’all. Merry Christmas.”
“Shit’s deep in here,” Maverick interrupts, alerting us he’s back in the room. “And not the shit that’s been on her arm.” He chuckles, nodding at Bryn who now stands beside him face full of concern.
“Five more dollas!” Belle shouts at Maverick as she runs to the room. “Hi, Daddy!” She launches herself at Madden and wraps her sugar-coated fingers around his neck, hugging him tight.
“Belle,” Madden begins, trying to keep his face as straight as possible, “did you make this mess?”
“She did!” Kenny tattles. Belle scowls at him as she moves her thumb across her throat in a slashing motion.
“Ain’t skeered,” Kenny tells her and high-fives Maverick, skidding out of the room.
“I’s getting the kitchen ready for JoJo to make cookies for Santa with us, Daddy,” she explains, quickly bouncing up and down. Yep, the sugar is kicking in. “Ready, ready, ready?” she asks me.
“Belle, we have to clean up this mess first, and then we can make cookies,” I tell her. “We can get it done quick if you help me. Besides, we still have a few days before Santa comes. These cookies are for us to enjoy.”
“Oh no!” Belle exclaims and puts her hand over her mouth for dramatic effect. “I’s allwergic to the cleaning.”
“Uh huh, and we’ll see what Santa has to say about that, little miss.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and scrunches her face up in a scowl. “You wouldn’t,” she deadpans, glaring at Madden.
“You don’t wanna be on the naughty list, Belly,” Maverick tells her.
“Why not? My JoJo is,” she confirms, cockin’ her head to smile up at me. “Ain’t you, JoJo?”
Madden pins me with a glare as his face turns beet red.
“I’s heard my daddy tellin’ her that last night. She was a bad girl so he put her on the naughty list! She cried like a cat and everything.”
Well, fuckity fuck.
Bryn grasps on to Maverick’s arm for support as she doubles over at the waist, her laughter so strong she’s nearly convulsing. “Damn, I’m seein’ Jo in a new light!” Maverick yells, wagglin’ his brows at me. Madden scoops Belle up into his arms and carries her into the living room, shovin’ Mav and barin’ his teeth along the way.
“You’re right, Belly, so since JoJo is on the naughty list, we’ll make her clean up the kitchen while we watch Rudolph.” He winks at me, playin’ it off.
That fucker. Madden settles in on the couch with Belle and Kenny on each side of him, Maverick takin’ the recliner.
“Did I seriously come over to clean and bake?” Bryn groans as I reach her a wet cloth. “I need a more excitin’ social life!”
“Oh hush, Cinderella, and get to cleanin’.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
MADDEN
“I can’t believe it’s snowing!” Jordan cheers as she bounces on the balls of her feet, whether in excitement or to stay warm—I’m not sure which.
River Street in the Savannah Historic District is bursting with tourists and locals all ready to ring in the new year Savannah style, watchin’ the Mason jar drop from the rooftop of the old River Street Inn. Carter and I are huddled around our women, tryin’ to keep them warm in the blustery temps. It’s unusual for Savannah to see actual winter temps. Small star-like flakes coat every surface in sight, a sparkle of white dancin’ against the light of the streetlamps.
“I need another shot to stay warm!” Laney begs.
“YES! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!” comes from Bryn, who’s already swaying with every step she takes. She’s become the fifth wheel of our group, doin’ everything she can to stay out of Maverick’s sights. Which isn’t difficult when he’s lookin’ for tail anywhere he can get it.
Maverick Reynolds is definitely livin’ up his days as one of Tybee Island’s most eligible bachelors, voted by the area Chamber of Commerce. It all started when Davenport Construction received an invitation to join a charitable fundraiser for the holidays. They were looking for small business bachelors to pose in a calendar run to raise money for the construction of new youth center. The invitation was meant for me, but obviously I’m no longer a bachelor, so I asked Maverick to represent Davenport Construction. He ate that shit up like it was cream for a cat. Little did we know the extent he was willing to take it. During the calendar launch, all models were interviewed and featured on the local news station, TYB13. We learned so much interesting shit about that fucker that none of us had ever been privy to, like his nickname in the military being ‘Pretty Boy’ because of his scandalous ways. Like gettin’ caught fuckin’ his Sergeant’s wife.
Maverick is a damn dog if I ever did see one, but deep down the man’s got heart. He fought for this country, givin’ up eight years of his life to the service, and that alone earns him my respect. I couldn’t care less how many women he fucks, as long as he doesn’t set sights on
my Jo. Bein’ unanimously crowned as the most eligible bachelor in all of Tybee Island, I doubt he’s strugglin’ to keep his bed warm at night.
“Hot cocoa, ya damn drunks! Y’all ain’t gonna even remember New Year’s Eve at this point!” Jo tells her best friends, trying to persuade them to lay off the booze.
It didn’t take long for Laney to tuck her tail between her legs and apologize for her outburst at Jo. The very next day, in fact. They hashed out their differences over Moscato and chocolate cake. It was a learning experience for me that when women are bonding, give them their space and plenty of Kleenex. Thirty minutes into their debacle, I packed Belle up and took her to Carter’s. If I thought construction workers were foul-mouthed, these women made us look like fuckin’ saints, and I don’t need my kid embezzlin’ more money from me and my friends when she hears that shit from her JoJo and her auntie.
“That’s the point, Jo! We don’t wanna remember what a shitty year 2019 has been! So we gotta drink 2020 in and pray for the best!”
“You better pray your drunk ass can handle walkin’ those steps to get to the vehicle, babe, cause I ain’t packin’ ya.” Carter kisses her forehead, shootin’ me a pained look.
They’re dealin’ with some heavy shit, but that’s their story to tell. All in due time.
“We’ve got about ten minutes until the ball drops. Carter and I will go get you ladies some hot cocoa, but you’re cut off from the liquor.”
“Here we go again! Fun Police! Fun Police!” Bryn shouts, and together, she and Laney chime, “Weee-woo, weee-woo! Fun Police!”
“I need new friends,” Jordan says, kissin’ the tip of my nose.
“I’ll be back, darlin’. Try to keep these psychos in place so you’re easy to find.” She smiles as I kiss her forehead. Damn, I love this woman.
Carter and I make our way through the throng of people, shoulder to shoulder, huddles of friends and families, small and large, gathered to ring the new year in together. We make it to the street vendor and order four cups of hot cocoa as the snowfall picks up. The streets are likely to be covered by morning, as we’re expected to have an accumulation of three inches overnight. I won’t complain about being barricaded in the house with Jo and Belly. Any excuse to have Jordan wrapped up in my arms is a good enough for me.