agreed to take Ava’s and my fake relationship show on the road, huh?
“Luke?” Cap persists. “Mind sharing with the class?”
A laugh jumps from my lungs. I can’t help it. With the way Cassie is grinning at me like a loon and Thatch is pretending he doesn’t know what’s going down, it’s too fucking amusing.
“Yes, Ava is here,” I eventually respond. “And, well, she is, in fact—”
“His girlfriend.” An all-too-familiar voice fills my ears, and I look up to see Ava standing beside Cassie in the doorway.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I feel like a real-life book club is happening before my very eyes,” Cap replies with a smirk, wasting no time standing up to shake Ava’s hands. “I’m Caplin Hawkins,” he says. “And can I say it’s a real pleasure to finally meet Luke’s girlfriend? He’s already told us so much about you.”
“Honestly, he never shuts up about you,” Trent agrees, and before I know it, every single guy at the table has taken it upon himself to introduce himself to my Ava.
Your Ava?
I mean Ava. Not my Ava. Just…Ava.
Uh-huh…keep telling yourself that…
“How’s it going out there, Ace?” I ask, and Ava giggles.
“Well, Cassie here is teaching me the fine art of sneaking alcohol into people’s drinks and how to avoid ruining dinner.”
“And how exactly are you managing that, Crazy?” Thatch asks, his eyes grinning at his wife.
“Like I’d tell you my secrets,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes.
“You mean the very secrets that you use on me?”
“Exactly.” Cassie nods, unfazed. “Now, if you don’t mind, Ava and I have some more non-work work to do.”
But before they head back to the kitchen, Ava walks toward the table, leans down in front of me with the cleavage of her gorgeous breasts directly in my face and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Have fun, boyfriend,” she whispers into my ear, and her warm breath brushes the skin of my neck and the smell of her sweet and flowery perfume fills my nostrils.
Fuck, does she always smell this good?
And because I must be in an alternate-fucking-universe, my cock threatens to take notice.
Goddamn. What the hell is happening?
Ava
Stick a fork in me because I am done with a capital D. I swear, if I try to eat even one more bite of turkey, of dressing, of pumpkin pie, I’ll explode.
Which, with the way everyone else is relaxing on the sofas and the lux loungers in the Kellys’ massive living room, I’d say I’m not the only one feeling more stuffed than the delicious turkey we consumed a few hours ago.
“You really outdid yourself, Georgie. I ate so much food it looks like T-bag knocked me up again,” Cassie comments as she steps into the room, holding a glass of wine and a bourbon in her hands. She hands one off to her husband Thatch and proceeds to make herself cozy in his lap.
“God, I know,” Winnie agrees with wide eyes, patting her stomach, and her husband Wes wraps his arm around her shoulders and kisses her forehead. “But damn, the food was so good. Seriously, Georgie. Kudos to the chef.”
“Pretty sure my darling wife is otherwise occupied sleeping off the booze Cass gave her,” Kline teases, his voice quiet as he glances down at a sleeping Georgia in his lap.
“Crazy, is that a challenge?” Thatch asks, kissing Cassie’s cheek and resting a free hand on her knee.
“Is what a challenge?”
He waggles his brows. “Knocking you up again.”
“Um…no. Pretty sure I’m all set with your two mini-me heathens you already bestowed upon me.” Cassie snorts. Then not-so-discreetly slaps him in the crotch.
Thatch groans, but then he grins. “Yeah, but you know, what if we have a girl this time?”
“Aw, a mini-Cassie!” Ruby exclaims from the other side of the room where she’s currently cozied up with her husband Cap, who instantly starts cracking up when he takes in Thatch’s wide, terrified eyes.
“Never mind,” Thatch mutters.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Thatcher?” Cassie retorts and turns to glare at him.
“It means I literally cannot handle two Cassies in the same house.”
She sits up and glares at him. “Are you saying I’m high-maintenance, Thatcher?”
“Uh oh…” Both Lena and Theo tease from across the room, grinning at each other with amused eyes.
“Oh boy,” Greer, Trent’s wife, comments. “I think shit is about to go down.”
Instantly, Maybe giggles and hides her face into her husband Milo’s chest. “I’m afraid to look. I think she might really turn into a praying mantis and bite his head off.”
Emory