“My lips are sealed, but G, you might want to consider getting a deadbolt or something more secure for your bedroom activities.” I laugh even harder when I notice he’s really considering my comment. “Come on, you freaking weirdo, let’s go have a birthday party.”
The rest of the party passes with laughter, presents, and a few tantrums, all of which are from Coop when we tell him that he can’t drive Cohen’s new, kid sized, four-wheeler. I swear that man is just a child trapped inside a grown man’s body. When Sway offers to hug it better, Coop shuts his mouth real quick.
“God, I’m so glad those kids are gone,” Melissa says as she drops down onto Greg’s lap. “But I’m definitely not ready to clean up this mess.” She laughs before laying her head against his shoulder. I watch as Greg subconsciously tightens his hold, never once breaking his conversation with Axel and Maddox, and brings his palm up to rest on her adorable belly.
“That was an unbelievably long day. Even Nate crashed before his lunch, and that boy never misses a meal.” Izzy laughs, shaking her head a few times.
I look around the room and take in my ‘family,’ getting lost in my thoughts again. It seems like just yesterday that our Greg, Izzy, and Dee trio turned into this big, loving family. Even at my darkest, I think I knew that these guys wouldn’t hurt me. Just the opposite, they would protect the women in their lives to the extreme. I didn’t always think that, but they have proven themselves over and over again. It still stings when I think about how well my protective mask hides my pain from every single one of these people I love . . . well, all but one of them.
That one person who is currently looking at me from across the table without hiding a single one of his emotions. Nope, not John Beckett. He’s looking at me like he always does. With love, longing, and complete rapture.
Jesus, between my issues with the company, my screwed up head, and my heart that beats for just one man, I can’t even tell which way is up anymore. With a mental note to make an extra appointment with Dr. Maxwell this week, I shake myself from my checkout and focus back on the conversation around me.
“ . . . in concert next month,” Emmy says in her soft voice. She’s looking right at me, so apparently, I’ve missed something.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I ask.
“Dee, get your head out of the clouds.” Izzy laughs. Oh, my stupidly wonderful best friend. If she had any clue about how my life has been, she wouldn’t make jokes. But, it isn’t her fault that she’s looking at life through her rose-colored glasses and is completely oblivious that I’ve needed her more than ever.
“You caught me.” I laugh, but even to my own ears, I can hear how fake it sounds. “Who is coming to town? Sorry, Em, all I heard was concert.”
“That’s okay, Dee. Sam Grow’s coming back to town. I think it’s the last weekend, next month. They’re doing a big charity show. I think it would be neat if we made a girls’ night out of it.” She smiles and I can’t help but return it. Emmy is so easy to love, and even though she’s in a situation similar to Beck and me, it never stops her from making the best out of life.
“And I told her how much I love that idea. Ever since Greg used his Rico Suave skills and serenaded me with one of Sam’s songs, I’ve been a huge fan.” Melissa smiles at Greg, who is still rubbing her rounded belly.
“That sounds good to me. I think Izzy gave me his CD a few weeks ago, so I’ll make sure and listen to it beforehand. It’s been a while since we’ve had a girls’ night.”
We make plans, with Emmy promising to purchase the tickets tomorrow. After a few more hours, pizza, and more conversation, we all head to our separate homes. When I tuck myself into bed that night, even with all the worry still on my shoulders, I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a really long time.
CHAPTER 10
Dee
After Cohen’s party, things got crazy again at work. Chelcie, my personal assistant, calls and tells me that she needs me to go up to the North Carolina branch. We have another big client that is requesting a meeting, and only wants to speak with me. In my gut, I know what the issue will be, but I still hope I’m wrong.
Not knowing how long I will have to be gone this time, I pack heavy and hit the road before lunch. Thankfully, traffic is light since it’s a Sunday afternoon. After checking into the hotel and grabbing dinner, I settle in for the night. Not much different from when I’m at home, just this time, I don’t have my stockpile of ice cream.
Having my phone ring in the middle of my Sunday Bravo TV shows is a sure fire way to have my mood go straight to crap. When I see ‘Greg Calling,’ I hope that he’ll take a hint when I send the call to voicemail. Not even two seconds later, he’s calling again. Sighing deeply, I grudgingly answer. “Hey, G.”
“Oh, she speaks. Thanks for sending me to voicemail. Really sweet of you.” Sarcasm is dripping from every word.
“Sorry about that. I hit ignore instead of answer. I was just about to call you back.” I lie smoothly.