“I’ll get you details.” Donny nodded and tipped his beer. It was like him not to get sentimental. It was also like him to change subjects before he did. “You plan on finishing the album, you might be here until winter.”
“Nah. I’m going to churn this one out. I can feel it.” He could, too. He already had piles of notes. Notes he’d woken up in the middle of the night and written down. He kept in close touch with the band, even when they were apart. It was nothing to have an online video chat with Alfonzo “Fonz” Rafferty, his bassist, in the wee hours after his wife was asleep, while they both strummed a few chords and talked out lyrics. The other two were better by phone. The drummer, Shiff, was a damn good lyricist, and Broderick Haines—Knight Time’s newest band member, who performed backup vocals and guitar, and occasionally keyboard—came up with new songs in his sleep. Only thing was, Ricky never woke before noon. He was usually wrapped around a girl or two until then.
“It’s nice here in the winter.” Donovan stood. “I mean, if you can wrangle up someone to keep you warm. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
Asher snorted. “You looked around lately? The only one keeping me warm is Tank.”
Donny bottomed out his beer. Ash did the same.
“Getting married.” Ash shook his head. “I can’t believe it.” He never would’ve imagined his buddy settling down in the Cove, in the very house Donny grew up in—and hated.
Or maybe Asher couldn’t believe it because he couldn’t imagine it for himself. He was a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants rock star who was up for whatever, whenever. Granted, he’d buttoned up a bit since his boy came into his life, but he figured once they had a routine, he could be a dad when Hawk was with him and still be Asher Knight the rest of the time.
In theory, that was why things should have worked out with Gloria. She was a bit of a control freak, but he called to her wild side, and she answered by going all in on whatever idea he had. Like taking her to bed in Donovan’s mansion that fated night.
Fated.
The word sparked an idea that didn’t fully form. Asher grabbed a pencil and jotted the word on a notepad he kept next to the stool for that very reason. Maybe the spark was something. Maybe nothing.
“Before you find out from everyone else,” Donny said, a small smile creeping onto his face. “She’s pregnant.”
“Fuck off.” He took back being shocked over matrimony—Donovan being a father was the second most unbelievable thing he’d heard in the last year.
The smile didn’t leave Donny’s face. “She’s it. She and I are going to have a family in that big house and a dog and I’ll build her a white picket fence if she asks.”
Asher leaned forward and slapped Donny on the arm. “Congratulations, man.” He looked happy. Ash couldn’t get over it. Had his brooding friend ever been this happy?
Donny eyed Tank, who had plopped down on a dog bed in the corner of the room. “How’d you end up with that tiny little dog anyway?”
“Same way you ended up with Gertie,” Ash said of Donovan’s giant mutt. “He adopted me.”
Donovan shook his head but chuckled when he said, “And you think you’re not staying? You have a dog and a house in the Cove. All you need now is the girl.”
Chapter 3
The next afternoon was bright and sunny and perfect when Gloria met Brice for brunch. Sun Up was packed, but he’d made reservations and snagged an available table outside on the patio. Now she perused the menu while Brice stirred a heaping spoonful of sugar into his espresso cup.
“You don’t fit in here,” he piped up.
Eyebrows arched over her sunglasses, she replied, “Thanks a lot.”
He smiled. “You’re too savvy. Too sexy.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re buttering me up for something.” She lifted her menu. “Speaking of which, the buttermilk pancakes sound good.”
“I’m saying that because it’s true. You’re Chicago through and through. Don’t you miss it?”
Of course she did. She’d called Chicago home for so many years, she’d have to tick them off her fingers to figure it out. “I don’t not fit in here,” she said instead.
The waitress returned to get their orders and Gloria splurged, going for the spinach and mushroom eggs Benedict while Brice ordered the chicken sandwich with a fried egg on top.
“The whole life cycle between two slices of bread,” he commented after the waitress left.
“Gross! Stop.” Gloria sipped her coffee and enjoyed the breeze coming off the lake. Weather like today’s was ideal. Cool breeze, hot sun. “Evergreen Cove is like a more approachable Hamptons. The elite feel without the caviar. I like it here.”
That was true, but while the Cove snuggled everyone she knew into its arms, Gloria sometimes felt as if she’d been left out of the group hug. Like she was forcing it by being here, struggling to belong while the evidence around her suggested otherwise.
Brice, for example.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll admit I’m being selfish because I want you.”
She sputtered into her mug.
“To work with me.” He grinned.