to move in with you and Grace to see you.” Her eyes shoot to me. “Or be Archer.”
I shrug, holding back a shit-eating grin as Georgia’s shoulders relax.
“Girl time,” Georgia says.
“You’re going to be talking about me, aren’t you?”
“Definitely not,” she says.
I kiss her cheek while she sits with the girls, and I head over to the guys standing around the grill, drinking beers. We bro-hug each other, and no one acts any differently about Georgia and me. It’s as if it’s natural, and we’ve been walking around holding hands for years. I’m sure there’s been some talk when we’re not around, though.
“Maliki, my man!” Cohen calls out.
I turn around to find Maliki; his fiancée, Sierra; and his daughter, Mia, along with a blonde walking in our direction. As soon as Mia sees Noah and Jamie playing on the swing set, she darts toward them, yelling Noah’s name. I’d bet my money those two will date or some shit by the time they hit high school.
“Who’s Blondie?” Finn asks.
“Sierra’s sister,” Silas answers.
“She’s cute,” Finn comments.
She’s young and on the skinny side, and she reminds me of Sierra—pretty, rich, and trouble. Maliki was like me—a loner, not giving two shits or looking for a relationship. Enter Sierra, who kept sneaking into his bar when she was underage. And somehow, they’re now engaged. I don’t know the full story since I mind my own business.
When he said it took the right one, I snorted.
Now, I get it.
“She’s the one we’re hiring?” I ask Cohen.
“Hiring where?” Silas asks.
“At the bar,” Cohen replies.
“Twisted Fox?” Finn questions.
Cohen nods.
“Why not work at Down Home?” Finn continues.
I have a feeling that will be a frequent question.
“She got into some trouble. Maliki didn’t tell me the entire story because he hardly says shit,” Cohen replies. “If you want in on any gossip, Sierra is the one you go to.”
Georgia, Grace, and Lola trade questioning looks. They’re cautious, and they’ve banned us from bringing random women to the barbecues after one of Finn’s flings showed her ass. I didn’t give two fucks about the ban since I didn’t have random flings I dragged around my friends. When Sierra came with Maliki the first time, they were accepting of her. It could’ve also been because none of them wanted Maliki.
Since Grace loves Finn.
And Lola and Silas have some weird type of relationship.
Thirty minutes later, we’re finishing dinner, and Georgia declares it is cake time before rushing inside. I don’t know how she always ends up being the cake-getter.
Deciding we need some alone time, I jog across the yard and wrap my arms around her, dragging her into my side before raining kisses down her cheek and neck.
She laughs, pushing me away, before freezing. “Holy shit, is that my mom?”
39
Georgia
What the hell is happening?
My jaw drops as my mom slowly walks through Cohen’s backyard, gift bag in tow. My attention zips to Cohen, as I’m nervous for his reaction. I didn’t invite her since it’s his birthday, and when it’s your birthday, you get to make the guest list.
Did Jamie?
Cohen drops a kiss to Jamie’s shoulder, shoves his phone into his pocket, and waves to my mom. His strides are long as he meets her in the middle of the yard. They smile at each other—hers gentle, his inviting.
“Oh, wow,” I mutter when he hugs her tightly.
“You want me to grab the cake while you …” Archer asks, jerking his head toward the scene I’m focused on.
I nod. “Good idea.”
“On it.”
I wait, keeping my distance, while Cohen and my mom make small talk. I’ve been begging Cohen to talk to her, and my heart flutters that he finally is, that he’s opened up the forgiveness pocket of his heart. The man who doesn’t believe in second chances is giving her one.
Taking her hand, he leads her to Jamie and Noah, and when they exchange hugs, my eyes water.
“Got the cake,” Archer says, stopping next to me. “Who the hell chose this?”
“Noah.” I laugh as I take a look at the Scooby-Doo cake that says, Happy Birthday, Dad! “He cons Jamie into letting him make all the decisions.”
Archer carries the cake as we approach them.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, masking the shock on my face and hugging her.
“Hi, baby.” She squeezes me tight.
“Cake is here,” Archer says before placing it on the table. He slides his arm around my waist and kisses my cheek.
My mom raises a brow.
“Mom,” I say, “this is Archer.”
“Hi there,” she says skeptically and waves, recognizing his name from