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Warmth settled sweetly into my bones, even though being around them made me miss my mom. “I’m glad you came over,” I told them. “I wasn’t prepared to host, though. I don’t have much food to offer, and there are toys everywhere.”
Martha waved it off. “Don’t you fret. Phyllis is a slob, so we’re used to it.”
“I am not,” Phyllis argued.
Rosa smiled at her friends. “Come on, girls, let’s pour some wine and sit out on her deck. If we’re lucky, he’ll show up right when we get to the part where the hero uses handcuffs on her for the first time.”
Two hours later, I knew unequivocally that I was never skipping book club again.
“Phyllis,” I gasped, “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal in most countries.”
She shrugged. “Never stopped us. My husband was an active man,” she said meaningfully. “God rest his soul.”
Martha cackled into her wineglass and flipped her Kindle case open. “That was a good one, ladies. I feel bad for whoever has to pick our next read.”
Rosa raised her hand. “That would be me. But don’t worry, I’ve got a great choice. No handcuffs or pool boys, but you’ll love it.”
“Probably good,” Martha said. “My grandson was over the other day, and he asked what I was reading.”
I tugged a blanket up over my legs and laughed. “Did you lie?”
“Hell no,” she said. “I’m not ashamed of what I’m reading, but that doesn’t mean he needs an early education either, you know what I mean?”
Liam’s slider next door opened up, and an expectant hush fell over the group.
When his tall, muscular body appeared on the back patio, Martha sighed happily.
Somehow, I managed to stifle the eye roll. “He’s not that good-looking,” I mumbled.
Phyllis snorted. “You’re so full of shit it’s a miracle your eyes aren’t brown.”
Okay, fine, as he strode toward my side of the yard, the hard line of his jaw and his chiseled features caught the fading light in a fairly pleasant way.
And his shirt stretched across his chest rather nicely.
He was just so manly that it was almost unfair. There was a nice amount of dark hair on his arms, which meant he’d likely have a smattering of it over his broad chest.
My throat went tight because the image cemented itself very quickly in my thrust-free brain.
Martha coughed pointedly, and I realized I was staring.
At the sound, Liam’s head snapped up, and he froze in between our yards. “Oh bloody hell,” he muttered. “There’s so many of you.”
Phyllis sat back in her seat. “You must be Liam.”
He exhaled heavily, eyes lingering on mine while I tried not to laugh. “I’m not admitting to shit because you lot look like trouble.”
The laugh burst free; there was no stopping it.
His jaw clenched, and he took a deep breath, like he was bracing for something.
“What is it?” I asked.
“She fell asleep on the floor of her bedroom up there.”
“Ah.”
Rosa gave me a questioning look. “Should we ...?”
