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“It’s maybe the sweetest thing ever,” Polly agrees. “Okay, continue.”
“Okay,” Millie says, leaning forward. “Angela didn’t want to be a mom. Hell, she just wanted to bang Bridger, and, as we’ve all discussed, who can blame her? He may be my bestie, but even I can admit that he’s a hottie.”
“Right?” Erin says, nodding.
“But lately, Birdie’s been really sick. Not with anything contagious. We don’t really knowwhatit is, and it’s not cancer, that’s for certain. But it’s been bad enough that Bridger doesn’t want to leave her with just anyone, and he has to work. He’s thechief.He’s been pulling mostly night shifts the past couple of months to help out his crew, so I go and stay with Birdie so she can sleep in her own bed. It’s not that big of a deal because she sleeps 90 percent of the time I’m there, but she needs medicine, and damn. I shouldn’t have told.”
“Poor Bridger,” I breathe, not able to fathom the thought of my baby being sick and not knowing why. “And poor Birdie.”
“You’re a good friend,” Polly says, reaching out to cover Millie’s hand with her own. “We already know that, of course, but seriously, Mill, you’re agoodfriend.”
“Bridger and I were always tight,” she says with a shrug of her shoulder. “He’s a couple of years older than me, but we got along. Aside from you guys, he might be mybestfriend, and I can’t tell him that I won’t help him out just because I’m not getting enough sleep. He’s coming off of nights soon, though, and then he’ll have to find help during the day.”
“She could come to the ranch,” Erin says, thinking it over. “But I’m pretty busy with the event center. He probably wants someone more full time.”
“He’d like to be able to put her in preschool this fall, with the other kids her age. She turned three last month. Hopefully, they can figure out what’s going on with her, and she can go. She’s just the sweetest kid. His family’s been helping, too, of course.” She yawns hugely. “Anyway, that’s the skinny on that. No Pound Town for me, and let me tell you, I could use an orgasm or two.”
“Holden?”
Millie narrows her eyes at Erin and growls. “Don’t start on that guy.”
“You know,” I say, tapping my finger against my lips, “I have a toy that I never got around to using, since I’m now getting dick on the regular, and you’re welcome to it.”
“First of all,” Millie says, scowling, “ew. Second of all, absolutely not.”
“I’m so sorry that I’m almost late!” The five of us turn as Sophie and London bustle onto the terrace, both looking absolutely gorgeous.
London’s in a pink summer dress, her dark hair pulled back from her face, and she makes a beeline for Polly, giving her a big hug before rubbing Polly’s belly.
Sophie is tall, also dark-haired, and absolutely gorgeous in her signature activewear—orange today—and crisp white sneakers.
Sophie has built an entire brand around wellness, from the inside out, at any size, and that’s something that I really respect about her because I’m a curvy girl, too. Not only does she talk about nutrition and exercise, but also skincare and fashion, and because we’re close to the same size, I’ve often felt like I can identify with her.
So, when she comes over to say hello to me, I can’t help but hold on to her hand for an extra beat.
“Thank you,” I say softly, only for her ears, “for what you do. And for being here.”
Her beautiful face softens, and she leans in to hug me. “It’s truly my pleasure, Abbi. It’ssogood to see you again. You look fabulous.”
She pulls back to smile at me, and then her gaze narrows.
“Are you using a new skincare routine I should know about? You’re glowing.”
“Yeah,” Erin replies for me, “it’s called regular sex with a hot cowboy.”
Sophie’s grin spreads, and then she laughs and hugs me again.
“That’ll do it. Good for you, girlfriend. Sex is good for us. Now, when does this party start?”
Over the next half hour, attendees begin to pop in. There’s lots of mingling and chatting, and servers bring up the first of the pizzas for the buffet.
“There are gluten-free options here at the end,” Heather announces. “Go ahead and grab it while it’s hot, if you’re hungry.”
The pizza here is the best I’ve ever had, and she doesn’t have to tell these girls twice. People dig in and then return to their seats to eat and talk.
“Abbi,” Jackie Harmon, the owner of The Sugar Studio, says as she walks past. “How is Brady? Is he back on the road right now?”
I blink at her and then frown. “He’s fine. Why are you askingme?”
