Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC #8) - Anne Malcom Page 0,52
dressy, even for her. She also had on what I was pretty sure was a real emerald choker and matching earrings. Her hair was teased into a messy bun, with just the right amount of red curls escaping.
“We’re not having a movie night,” she replied, leaning in to the mirror to apply her lipstick.
My kids had already run into their large family room, where Brock was with their son Hendrix. Jack and Lily loved all of their ‘cousins’ equally and all of their ‘uncles’, but they definitely loved being at Brock and Amy’s, hanging out with Hendrix. Mostly because Amy let them run wild, do whatever they liked, and Brock had boundless energy to play with them. They also loved going to Gwen and Cade’s by the ocean to play with their kids. Isabella was a few years younger than Lily, but they were still friends. Kingston younger still, but he was impossible not to love. Jack considered himself their protector, and I wondered what might happen when they all grew into young adults. With all the kids and their excellent genes, there was bound to be some romances that each of the respective fathers would likely hate.
“The kids are staying here with the hubby. We are having a girl’s night,” Amy declared.
Her eyes flickered to my outfit. I’d dressed for a movie night. Granted, a movie night with Amy, but still.
Earlier, I’d decided I to mask all my sadness and sorrow with a biker babe chic style somewhat inspired by Evie. I’d kind of been a biker babe before, but biker babe lite. I’d decided to really going to lean into it now, even though my biker husband was gone. My jeans were tight, faded and distressed. I was wearing low-heeled, black ankle boots, a wide belt with a silver hammered buckle, and a faded Harley Davidson tee. Various necklaces were slung around my neck, the one tucked under my shirt holding Ranger’s wedding ring. I still wore mine on my finger. I figured I’d take it off when Lily was old enough and I’d give it to her. If she wanted it. Maybe I’d do a crappy job raising her, she’d grow up to hate me and refuse to wear the ring her father—the one she most likely wasn’t going to remember—gave me as a symbol of our love.
My hair was up in a bun like Amy’s, but mine was messy and didn’t exactly have the same effect. I had some makeup on, if only to cover up the sleepless nights and general grief that was imprinted into my skin, making it look sallow, pale and lackluster.
Definitely not enough glam for a girl’s night with some of the most beautiful women in Amber, if not the country.
“I’m really dressed for a girl’s night,” I hedged. Amy was well aware of the fact that I’d been absent to all girl’s nights the past year, including the one with world famous actress Anastasia Edwards in attendance. The very same one where she’d been kidnapped.
I’d heard all this after the fact, since Mia was at my house the very next day with coffee, donuts and all the gossip. Thankfully, she hadn’t come with her two boys, since I usually needed an hour to prepare the house and remove all possibly dangerous objects in order for those hellions to visit. And needed to have at least three fire extinguishers on hand.
So yeah, life hadn’t stopped since my husband died, the crazy continued.
“You look amazing, actually,” Amy countered, looking me up and down. “Which isn’t really a surprise since you’re a stone-cold hottie. But you’ve also lost your husband, your heart has been broken and your world has pretty much imploded. That shit is bound to show up on a girl’s complexion.” She moved to cup my cheek, smiling sadly. “But you still look beautiful. A different kind of beautiful, a sad one which breaks my heart. I wish I knew a dark magic to make this all go away, but the only magic I know can make it hurt a little less and comes in a cocktail glass.”
She let go of my face and stepped back before I did something insane like cry in the face of Amy’s unique form of comfort.
“Do you really think girl’s night is a good idea?” I asked, nervous to be around everyone, wondering if they’d be mad at me for avoiding them and ignoring all of their calls. Even though that wasn’t how our group worked.