and Erasmo were on the same page.
“A lot can change in three months,” Avery said, staring away from the table. “Three months ago I was getting married, and now I’m knocked up.”
Victor snapped his gaze toward Avery.
Dylan and Erasmo opened their mouths in awe.
Shannon smiled and shook her head.
“What?” Avery asked as if completely clueless to the bombshell she’d just revealed.
“You told everyone you’re pregnant,” Shannon told her.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Knocked up . . . pregnant. Same thing,” Dylan said, his gaze flickering to Victor.
“Might be. Maybe . . . oh, God.” Avery dropped her head in her arms.
Shannon looked over at Victor. “This is what denial looks like,” she told him.
“I take it you just found out,” Erasmo said.
With Avery at a loss for words, Shannon answered for her. “She pees on the stick in the morning.”
Avery gently hit her head against her folded arms.
“Can I say congratulations?” Victor asked Shannon.
Avery moaned.
Shannon laughed.
And the men lifted their glasses in a silent toast to the woman in denial.
Avery lifted her head long enough to glare. “I’m not the one with the biological clock ticking here—that’s you.”
Shannon offered a nervous glance toward Victor.
“If hormones are any indication, I’d say you can skip the pee stick in the morning,” Dylan said.
Avery must have caught on to what she was saying and backed up. “I’m a horrible friend. I’m sorry, Shannon. This week was supposed to be about you.”
Avery’s bombshell pulled the focus away from him and Shannon. Good thing, since he felt Shannon was pretty close to making an excuse to leave the table.
Their dinner was Mexico’s idea of barbeque, which meant open fire cooking of fresh fish and a big slab of beef. They had family-style service, with the table filled with sides and spices.
For the first time since Victor had met Shannon, she was silent and observant throughout the whole meal. Maybe she was pissed at her friend for pointing out his attraction, but he wanted to believe that it was her attraction to him that had Shannon miffed. He suspected that the biological clock comment was more to blame. Whatever it was, it kept her deep in her thoughts with only minimal comments about Avery’s pregnancy.
It was only when Avery started doubting her ability to be a parent that Shannon snapped out of her trance.
“I’m still a kid,” Avery started. “I can show my child how to skip school and spend their tuition on trips to places like this. How to sneak out of the house.”
“First of all, you’re not a kid, you’re thirty-three . . . didn’t we just talk about this?”
“Still a kid.”
Everyone denied Avery’s attachment to that argument.
“Second of all, you have so much more to teach your child than sneaking out of the house. If you have a girl, she’ll learn how to break a man’s arm before he can get to second base.”
Avery seemed to like that.
Shannon looked around the table. “Avery studies krav maga.”
“That explains the tattoo on your arm,” Erasmo said. The word warrior was illustrated with a small spider.
“You’re overprotective of those you love. You insisted on coming here this week for me.”
Avery nodded a few times. “That’s true.”
“You needed a bodyguard?” Victor asked.
“Not that, just . . .”
“Part of the girl code,” Avery continued for her. “We don’t go to clubs alone if we have a friend to come along. Keeps the creeps away or helps vet the guys you want to know.”
“So you were on the prowl this week?” Erasmo asked. “You should have told us, we could have helped.”
Victor didn’t think Shannon’s face could turn redder.
She started to shake her head.
Avery stopped her. “Girl, your face isn’t gonna lie for you.”
“Okay. Fine. I’m single. I’m allowed.”
They all laughed.
Victor and Dylan exchanged a look. The woman was on the prowl all right. But did she want a seven-pound reminder of her trip to Tulum?
“You still have time,” Avery told her. “There’s a couple cute guys at the bar.”
They all turned their heads.
Victor frowned.
“Are you talking about the blond guy that looks like he lives on a surfboard?” Shannon asked.
“He is cute,” Dylan said.
“He’s twelve,” Shannon pointed out.
“He’s drinking at a bar, I doubt that,” Victor said.
“Okay, eighteen . . . we are in Mexico.”
He looked more like midtwenties to Victor.
“If he’s single and straight, you could tap that in ten minutes,” Avery challenged.
“You know you sound like a dude, right?” Erasmo asked Avery.
“Hey, women talk as much smack as men.”
Victor saw the game as it was rolling out. He also