never see it—”
“Bethany.” Georgie elbowed her sister. “Are you drunk?”
Rosie hid her face in Dominic’s shoulder. The man had made zero move to free her from the trap he’d made with his body.
“When is her curfew?” he said, winking at the sisters. “I’ll try to have her back on time.”
Before they could answer, there was a knock on the door. Several, actually. Footsteps sounded on the porch and voices reached the interior of the house. With a wince, Georgie crossed to the entrance and opened the door—allowing at least half a dozen Just Us League members to pile in, a good number of them holding covered plates of food and casserole dishes.
“Where is the child?”
“Where is this poor man?”
Variations of the same question were asked while Georgie, Bethany, Rosie, and Dominic gaped at the intrusion. It wasn’t over, either. At least five more women walked in bearing aromatic offerings before Bethany spoke up.
“Seriously, everyone?” Bethany sputtered. “Georgie texted you less than ten minutes ago. How did you get here so fast?”
“We were all at a church potluck down the street.”
The women—young and old—traded nods.
“We received your text at the same time, collected our dishes, and piled into our cars.”
“Swiped this green-bean casserole right out from under the pastor’s nose,” one of them said, setting off a chain of laughter. “The poor man was mid-scoop.”
“This is more important,” said Candy, the woman who ran an artisanal-cheese-and-wine shop in town, making her a local favorite among, well, everyone. “We want to help.”
“Rosie,” called an older woman with a green wool cap—Melinda, if Rosie wasn’t mistaken. “Are you going to kiss that man or not?”
“We already—” Rosie squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh God.”
“What’s going on?” Dominic asked, his breath tickling her ear. “Fill me in.”
Forming coherent sentences when Dominic’s powerful body was heating her like a furnace was not exactly easy, but she forced the words out. “There’s a new man in town. His sister ran off, her husband followed . . . and he’s been left to care for their child.”
Dominic’s brows drew together. “You said he’s new in town?” Rosie didn’t have a chance to question the dawning realization in her husband’s expression before he spoke again. “Everyone is heading over there to help out, huh?”
Rosie nodded.
“Including you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “This is supposed to be our night.”
“That’s why I’m coming along.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I’ll push the reservation a couple of hours and we’ll eat afterward.”
“Really?”
His exhale bathed her mouth. “Not going to lie, I want you alone,” he said. “But I can tell you’re only going to be half with me. I’d rather wait until you’re all here.”
“How dare you show up looking this good. Saying things like that.”
He opened his mouth to respond and closed it, his forehead wrinkling. “Should I stop?”
She lifted up and kissed him softly, heat radiating from her face when a cheer went up from just beyond the kitchen. “Does that answer your question?”
“Rosie,” Candy called, turning Rosie’s head. “My two dishes were already reheated once. Are they safe to freeze and heat up again?”
Rosie surveyed the offerings. “Is there meat in that lasagna?”
“No, ma’am. I wish there was,” Candy replied. “Those damn vegetarians have infiltrated the church and—”
“Yes, you can reheat the lasagna. No on the pork dish, though.”
Rosie started to turn back to Dominic, but Melinda tapped her arm. “How would you portion this? I’d say there’s enough for three nights, if we stretched . . .”
“Um. We can mix and match a little, but we should use the more perishable items first. Here, let me get something to take notes. Everyone, line up your dishes.” Rosie was torn between wanting to leave and feeling really amazing that the women seemed dependent on her advice. Her . . . leadership. For a woman who’d been ignored on the cosmetics floor of the mall for years, being seen as relevant was like a breath of fresh air. One she couldn’t help but suck down, letting it stretch her fingers as she picked up something to write with. “We’ll need kid-friendly meals, ladies. Who makes the meanest macaroni and cheese?”
Several hands went up.
Rosie smiled and clicked her pen.
Chapter Sixteen
Christ, could these women put away booze. Dominic had been allowed entry into a secret society where women swore like sailors and objectified men. It was goddamn enlightening, to say the least. Every once in a while, Rosie threw an apologetic glance over her shoulder at him, but it was completely