Just the Tip (DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female) Book 4)

by Kat Addams

  “Mission accomplished,” Betty answered the phone.

  “You got the scrapbooks? How did you break in anyway? Never mind. I don’t want to know. Just tell me the next steps,” I said.

  “The next steps are crazy.” She blew out a breath.

  “Aiden, it’s me, Rox. Look, this will take a while. I’d say, we won’t be ready until maybe seven tonight. She has all kinds of stuff in here. We’re going to need to find a snow machine, some swans, lots of glitter, a harpist. I’m not sure we can pull this off. If anything, she can have the real deal at her wedding, and this can be just a taste of what’s to come. The tip of the iceberg. Just the tip.” Rox laughed.

  “Okay. As long as we can get some of those things in there. Can you send me a picture of the rings she put in there? I’m heading to the jeweler as soon as I leave the hospital.”

  “I’m texting you pics now. Go take care of your business. Let us know if you need anything else. Seven o’clock tonight. Swing by the new place. Just say you have to run in to check on something.”

  “Ten-four. I’m out.” I pressed the button on my steering wheel and hung up.

  I parked outside of the maternity ward of the hospital and waited while Monica and Thomas stepped out of their car. Thomas skipped along in front of us.

  “See?” Monica said, smiling at our son’s playful mood.

  I nodded.

  Not all curveballs are bad.

  We made our way into the hospital and up the elevator. I brushed my sweaty palms down my pants. Two women I’d screwed and knocked up were going to meet for the first time—properly meet anyway. I wondered if Layla still had her pregnancy raging-bitch hormone or if she’d birthed that out with Scarlett. I touched my phone through my pocket, tempted to call Deb and ask.

  “Names?” the nurse at the front desk asked before letting us back to see Layla.

  I showed her the wristband they’d given me to confirm my identity and had Monica sign in her and Thomas.

  “So, American health care. I’ve heard horror stories of the prices. Is it really that bad?” Monica scribbled down her name before turning to me.

  “Abysmal. Maybe by the time Scarlett is president, she can ask her big brother, the prime minister of Australia, for some tips on changing that. Until then, it is what it is.” I led the way down the hall and knocked on Layla’s door.

  “Come in,” Layla said in her normal voice.

  Thank God.

  When she’d screamed and cried and laughed and sung while giving birth, I’d heard all the pitches known to man. Her giggle had come out, sounding like a hairy man-giant making love to a peacock. It wasn’t a visual I wanted in my head either.

  “Layla, I brought Thomas and Monica. Round two of awkward meetings,” I joked, opening the door to let them through.

  Layla sat up in bed, still glowing. Scarlett grunted, wiggling in her arms. I walked over to her side, Monica trailing behind me.

  “Layla, I’m sorry about our first meeting. And this one is less than ideal too. But here I am. And here is Thomas, my son and Scarlett’s brother.” Monica wrung her hands, peering over into the swaddled bundle squirming in Layla’s arms.

  “Nothing in my life is by the book, so no worries. Aiden and I’ve spoken. I’m sure we can talk more at another time. I just need to know one thing.” Layla looked up at her, smiling in a toothy grin I’d not seen before.

  “Yes, of course. What is it?”

  Layla motioned for Monica to lean down before whispering, “You trying to take my man?”

  I gritted my teeth.

  You can take the woman out of DTF, but you can’t take DTF out of the woman.

  “No!” Monica shouted, rising quickly. “Good heavens, no! No offense, Aiden. But just … no. You’ve nothing to worry about there. My word might not mean anything to you yet, but I’ll work on showing you until it does. I had the love of my life. I’m not looking to replace that.”

  “Okay. That’s all I care about. Carry on.” Layla perked up.

  Her hormones definitely hadn’t straightened out yet.

  “Ahem.” I cleared my throat. “Thomas, come meet your sister, Scarlett.”

  He shuffled his feet to Layla’s side and peeked over her shoulder.

  “Would you like to hold her?” Layla held Scarlett out to him.

  “May I?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.

  “Oh my gosh. The Australian accent on a kid is the cutest thing ever! That’s the first time I’ve ever heard it. I hope you can teach her that!” Layla patted the side of the bed, showing him how to sit and hold his sister.

  He nodded, smiling. “I can teach her a lot about Australia.” He peered into the blanket. “I’ll show you the kangaroos someday, Scarlett. And we can hunt koalas. Not really hunt them. But go on an exploration to look for them. I don’t kill animals. That’s terrible. I’m a lover. Not a fighter.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “Where did he get that from?” I turned toward Monica.

  “There’s no telling.” She shook her head, laughing.

  Thomas held his sister close. He didn’t give her back to Layla until it was time for him to leave.

  “Be careful!” Layla shrieked as I pulled out of the hospital parking lot, barely tapping the gas pedal.

  “I am. I am. Precious cargo! I know. I’m keeping my girls safe. This car is rated one of the safest,” I said, patting my dashboard.

  “I know, but she’s just so tiny back here. She’s fragile. Ugh. I don’t ever want her out of a car seat. Can you imagine? I’ll strap her into one until she’s forty!” Layla sat in the back, her arms wrapped around Scarlett’s car seat.

  It was hard to imagine that only nine months ago, our baby girl had been conceived right where she sat now.

  “I couldn’t agree more. Hey, since we’re not too far off, I need to swing by the new restaurant and pick up something really quick. Do you mind? I know you’re tired, and I am too. It’ll just save me a lot of hassle later. Work stuff.” I scratched my head, avoiding her gaze in the rearview mirror.

  “Sure. She’s out for the count. I think the car moving lulls her to sleep. Maybe I can catch a nap too.” She rested her head back on the headrest. Two minutes passed before she began to snore.

  I tapped my thumbs against the steering wheel, driving as slow as I could toward my future.

  What if Layla doesn’t want to marry me?

  What if I don’t pull it off right?

  What if I’m moving too fast?

  The ring hung heavy in my jacket pocket, like an unspoken wish that I should have asked for a long time ago. But then again, with Layla and me, nothing had been conventional. We’d put the cart before the horse—or the baby before the carriage. I fidgeted in my seat, the closer we came to the restaurant. DTF had texted me to pull around the back because The Pink Taco Truck sat parked out front.

  I slowly tapped the gas pedal, pulling my smooth ride up to the back entrance. There wasn’t another car in sight. I glanced behind me. Both of my girls were fast asleep.

  Jay slowly peeked his head out of the back door and motioned for me to come quickly. I snuck out of my car as quietly as possible and fumbled toward him. I’d not felt this nervous in years. I couldn’t even walk straight because my legs had turned into noodles.

  “Come in here and make sure this is what you want, mate. The girls and I have been working hard on it. Thomas and Monica also helped. That was a good call. He looks happy to be included. Come on,” he said, pulling me inside.

  Candles flickered from every countertop and table. Three geese waddled in front of me.

  “What the hell is that?” I asked.

  “We couldn’t get swans. It’s the best we could do! Messy though.” Nikki threw her hands in the air.

  “I know she wanted a proposal in the snow, so I got this ice machine. It’s supposed to make it look like it’s snowing, but the damn thing isn’t working right. It’s sputtering out hail. It hurts! Look!” Rox flipped a swit
ch on the machine. A low rumble coursed through the hunk of metal before it spit out fifteen balls of ice, pelting me like a paintball gun.

  “Crap!” I cringed.

  Thomas bent over in laughter.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Aiden. That was funny! Is Scarlett here?” Thomas asked.

  “Aye. But she’s asleep in the car. I’ll bring her in shortly.” I smiled, patting his head.

  I glanced around the room, noting the rose petals scattered in a heart shape around the front entrance under a balloon arch.

  “That was all me. Surprised, aren’t ya?” Betty sidled up next to me. “We couldn’t find pink peonies. So, we went with red rose petals. She’s a basic bitch. She’ll love it. Also, we have lots of champagne. She’s going to need it. She hasn’t had a drink in nine months!”

  I nodded, walked over to the front entrance, and touched the balloons. This felt surreal.

  I turned on my heels to address my friends and my new family. My eyes drifted from DTF to Layla’s parents to Monica and Thomas and to my brother.

  “Thank you for this. I couldn’t have done it without all of you.” I cleared my throat, fighting back choking up. “I want you all to know how appreciative I am of your help with making this a dream come true for Layla. We know she has a heart of gold, and if anyone deserves to live out a fantasy, it’s her. I’m going to bring her in. Are you ready?”

  “Are you ready?” her dad called out.

  “I’ve never been so ready for anything in my life,” I said without a hint of hesitation.

  “Cue the music!” Monica said. “Sorry, Aiden. No harpist available at this hour. Instead, we have Bluetooth speakers.” She pushed a button on a nearby speaker, and the melodic sound of a harp echoed off the bare walls.

  That’s what Layla’s laugh reminds me of. That’s it! She’s the melodic harp giggling through the soundtrack of our life.

  I scrubbed my hands over my face and opened the back door. Fluffy, massive snowflakes swirled through the air, shining like glitter in the moonlight. I paused, unsure if what I was seeing was real or not. It was early for snow by a few weeks at least. I scratched my head, overcome with a familiar presence. One I’d not felt since leaving Australia.

  Thanks, Mum. Thanks, Dad. I nodded toward the sky.

  I had everyone I loved with me. I could do this.

  “Is that snow?” Layla whispered, rolling down the window.

  “I thought you were asleep!” I whispered back, making my way to her and opening the car door. I crouched, holding my hand out to her and steadying it as best as I could. “Will you dance with me?”

  “In the snow?” she asked, glancing at Scarlett, who hadn’t woken yet.

  “Yep.” I pursed my lips, knowing that I was asking a woman who’d just given birth to dance around in the chilled air. Not my best move, but I needed to take advantage of this divine intervention.

  “I’ll do my best.” She smiled, taking my hand.

  We slowly … very slowly, made our way two turns around the parking lot before she collapsed, leaning on the car in a fit of giggles.

  “That was something from a movie. So dreamy. Best idea ever, Aiden,” she said, grabbing my cheeks and pulling me in for a kiss.

  Her giggles fueled my desire. I was no longer scared.

  I sank to my knees in front of her, kissing her hips on my way down. “I have a better idea.” I pulled a glittery pink box from my jacket pocket and opened it. “Marry me.”

  Her hands reached out behind her, gripping the hood of my car. Her lips parted, and at first, I thought she was about to let out one of those demonic wails I’d heard from her yesterday. But instead, she laughed, filling the parking lot with her sweet music.

  “I thought you’d never ask, fiancé.”

  She tugged my shoulders, pulling me into her. I pressed my lips to hers, hopium coursing through my veins. My hands fumbled as I shakily slipped the ring over her finger.

  “What are you doing? You were supposed to wait. I didn’t work on all this for nothing!” Betty stuck her head out of the back door.

  “Right. Well, I couldn’t pass up real snow for that iced death gun you have in there.” I threw my hands in the air.

  “What’s she doing here? And what’s an iced death gun?” Layla asked. She looked around the empty parking lot.

  “Come on. Let’s get Scarlett. I got a surprise for you.” I unbuckled our daughter from her car seat and wrapped her in a blanket before carrying her inside behind Layla.

  “Surprise!” everyone screamed as soon as we made our way through the door.

  The geese flapped their wings and hissed.

  “What’s this?” Layla put her hand over her heart.

  “Proposal number two. Come on.” I dragged her toward the petals, the candles, the balloons, the fairy-tale moment she’d always wanted, and the beginning of our new life.

  EPILOGUE

  Layla

  A Year and a Half Later

  I adjusted my artsy-fartsy beret in the mirror. The same one that DTF had given me the night Aiden proposed. They’d contacted my professors, and with Nikki’s magic—so she’d said—they’d convinced them to let me finish my degree remotely. It took longer than expected, but I’d earned that degree. I opened up my new art studio, Feast and Paint, or FAP, right next door to Aiden’s new restaurant, Bar Thomas. When the office space on the other side of Bar Thomas closed, Aiden had snatched it up and told me to consider it an investment in our future. Not that I planned my life as meticulously these days as I once had.

  I’d quit planning out the details of my future and instead focused on the present. Sometimes, fairy tales didn’t exactly play out as planned, but that didn’t mean they weren’t meant to be. Curveballs came in all sorts of packages—glittery pink boxes, a stepson from Australia, a positive pee stick. I’d learned to embrace plot twists and accept that life wouldn’t always come at me, wrapped in bows and slinging confetti.

  I grabbed my old scrapbooks and stepped into Rox’s backyard. DTF was sitting at a table under the shaded patio, watching the children play outside.

  “Here come those damn scrapbooks,” Betty muttered as I made my way toward them.

  Scarlett squirmed in Rox’s arms the moment she laid eyes on me.

  “Trade ya,” Rox said, holding her out.

  I set the scrapbooks down in front of Rox and took my daughter, dancing a quick spin around the patio before settling into my chair with a baby on my lap.

  “What are the chances we all ended up with girls?” I asked, bouncing Scarlett on my knee.

  “It’s a little weird. I’m shocked Betty didn’t have a boy. I thought she would birth a little man. All that testosterone running through her blood should have surely given her a boy, but I guess we have another boss babe to add to the crew,” Rox said, reaching for my scrapbook.

  Betty huffed a breath out of her nose.

  “It wasn’t just a fluke. It was divine intervention. It was supposed to be this way. The universe knew DTF needed to carry on the legacy of strong women and unleash them into the world. To teach girls to learn from our mistakes, to be true to themselves, and to know that they can do whatever the fuck they want to do and be whoever the hell they want to be.” Nikki nodded toward Jessica, the teenager she and Weston had recently adopted.

  Jessica lay on a picnic blanket next to Betty’s stepdaughter, Maisy, and Betty’s newborn, Marilyn, reading them both a book.

  “I think you’re right, Nikki. There isn’t another explanation for things coming together so perfectly.” I smiled, watching our men gathered around the grill, laughing.

  Rox flipped through my latest scrapbook, hovering over the pictures of us all dressed in boujee pink ruffles at my wedding. The expression on Betty’s face in the photograph was priceless. When I’d asked her to wear my frilly bridesmaid dress, she hadn’t hesitated to answer yes. But that didn’t mean she wore a smile for the camera. Finally, halfway through the reception, I’d grown tired of her pou
ty attitude and sent her to change. She’d come back in a leather catsuit. I had to admit that she’d looked ten times better.

  Rox kept flipping through the photos, pausing on a picture of Earl, our taco truck founder. “I wish he could have been here today. To see all of us on Mother’s Day. All of what he did and what he started.” She traced her fingertip down the photo, as if she could touch him one last time.

  “We all do. He was our person. I mean, we’ve all found our persons, but he started it all.” Betty sipped her cocktail, watching her newborn like a hawk.

  “He did. It only takes one,” Rox said. “Only one person to have your back. Only one person to believe in you. Only one person to lift you up and encourage you, reminding you of the strength you already had. I don’t know about you dirty, tough females, but I want to be that person. Everyone should have that person, and everyone should be that person to someone. At least once.”

  “You are. We are—all of us. Look how far we’ve come. We used to work at that shitty diner, for crying out loud. Now, look at all we have. Rox, you’re my person. Betty, you’re my person. Nikki, you’re my person. And God bless Earl. He was my person too,” I said.

  “To Earl, the man who took a chance on four broken women. In both pocketbook and spirit.” Betty held her drink in the air, sloshing rum over the rim.

  “To Earl,” we repeated, toasting our glasses together.

  “And to hopium,” Aiden said, sauntering toward me with a glass of wine.

  Weston, Terrance, and Jay followed closely behind.

  Scarlett reached out to her daddy while I reached out to the wine.

  Hashtag momlife.

  “Yes. That too,” I said. “Speaking of hope, Nikki, how’s the doula certification going? I have hopium you’ll finish before Rox has her baby. So, she can be your first client, right?” I eyed Rox’s baby bump.