Page 22 of Flirting with Trouble

Wells has been amazing tonight. I had forgotten what it was like to go to events with someone who wanted to be there with me. He’s been sweetly attentive, asking if I need a breather or a drink, and seamlessly fitting into conversations, asking interesting questions and injecting appropriate humor. At least for others to hear. He’s proven to be an even better seducer than I ever imagined, whispering enticingly naughty things in my ear, keeping my body humming with desire, as he did last night.

He’s surprised me in other ways, too. He’s protective, reading cues I didn’t realize I was giving. He whisked me away from people I wasn’t enjoying talking with, and when a guy who had obviously had too much to drink got handsy, Wells stepped in, handling it swiftly without making a scene. I’m having such a good time tonight, it’s kind of scary.

“Wells, do you have any children?” Trish asks, drawing me from my thoughts.

“Not that I know of,” he says, earning a chuckle from the guys. “But I like kids. My oldest brother, Grant, and his wife, Jules, just had a baby a couple of weeks ago. They named him Stephen—Stevie—Alexander after Jules’s father and ours, and he’s the cutest little guy.”

Harvey used to get that same warm expression when he talked about our friends’ kids. I’ll never forgive myself for putting off having children to focus on my career, robbing him of that experience.

Swallowing hard, I push those thoughts away and say, “Leni showed me pictures of him. He really is precious.” Jules is Leni’s younger sister.

“All babies are precious,” Jillian says. “Do you want kids, Wells?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, but I’ve got two brothers and two sisters, and I can’t imagine my life without them. So, yeah, I guess I’d like to have a family one day.”

I don’t want to know that, or to like that he wants kids, but there must be some truth to the biological clock, because I’ve felt pulled in that direction lately.

“Dude, kids will change your life,” Boone says. “We only have two, and I swear we’re outnumbered.”

“Try having twins and a teenager who thinks she’s twenty-one,” Johnny says.

“It’s exhausting in the best way possible,” Jillian says. “Lyric and Lennon are a year old, and I swear they stay up all night scheming ways to drive us batty.”

“They run everywhere, and it’s always in opposite directions,” Johnny adds, and we all laugh.

“There are benefits. How do you think I got my body back so fast?” Jillian jokes. “Chasing those little monkeys.”

“Just wait until they’re a little older and see what new things they get into,” Trish says. “You have to see this video of Paisley and JR. It’s the cutest thing ever. Boone, can l have my phone?”

As Boone pulls her phone from his pocket, he says, “I’m just going to preface this by saying, what you’re about to see is Trish’s fault, not mine.”

“He’s right. It is totally my fault.” Trish navigates to the video. “Paisley is two, and JR is four and a half. I was videoing them playing on the patio when this happened.”

She holds out the phone, and we all gather around as the video starts. Their adorable little boy is wearing overalls and no shirt or shoes, and his brown hair curls around his ears. He’s making motor sounds, pushing a toy truck across a table. Paisley, also barefoot and dressed in overalls, is playing with toy dinosaurs in the grass a few feet away. Her light brown pigtails stick straight out, and she has the sweetest little face.

JR pushes the truck hard, sending it flying off the table and crashing to the patio. “Uh-oh!”

“I get it!” Paisley toddles over and picks it up. Her tiny brows knit as she discovers a crack in the toy. She shakes her head, carrying it to JR, and says, “Ohdamnit. Ohdamnit. Ohfuckingdamnit.”

We all crack up.

“Are they really your kids?” Wells asks. “Because that little girl is all over social media.”

“Yes, that’s our dainty little Paisley, showing the world how good of a mother I am,” Trish says. “I never thought it would go viral.”

“You are the best mother,” Boone says, hugging her against him.

“Good moms curse,” Jillian says. “It’s part of life. We just have to teach our kids not to repeat us at inappropriate times.”

“That must be the part I forgot,” Trish jokes.

“Speaking of our little rascals, when can we get out of here?” Boone asks. “I’m whipped.”

“Me too,” Johnny says.

“Boone, it’s your brother’s birthday,” Trish exclaims. “We can’t just leave.”

“Like hell we can’t. Maggie and Lucky took off half an hour ago,” Boone says. “We showed up. Cage knows we care.” He scans the crowd. “Look at him. He won’t even notice we’re gone.”