“What do you need brought out?”
“It’s all on the countertop, honey.”
He turned on his boot and went inside.
On the counter he saw wineglasses, water glasses, cutlery and a pink milk glass pitcher with raised polka dots that was filled with ice and water.
He also saw, under a ribbed glass dome on a raised ribbed glass stand, a cake that was a miracle of rich, thick swirls of white frosting.
Addie was in the kitchen, Brooks in her arms, and she was cuddling him when Johnny came in, but her gaze was on Johnny when his went to her.
“This all the stuff that goes outside?” he asked, jerking his head to the things on the counter.
“Yep,” she answered.
“You sure there’s no unicorn statues, grenades rigged to explode glitter or nets of rose petals to hang to rain down on us when Iz pulls a cord?”
Her lips twitched but that was all he got from her before she said, “We didn’t have that much time.”
He nodded and set about taking the stuff to Izzy.
It took four trips to get it all out, and as he went back and forth with three canines dogging his steps, Izzy laid the table.
Addie wandered out with Brooks while Izzy was putting on the finishing touches and Johnny was opening a bottle of wine.
“If you’re pouring, I’m drinking,” Addie declared.
“I’m pouring,” he confirmed.
She nodded to him, her face mostly expressionless. Not a woman who was looking forward to a dinner party with friends. Not a woman who was looking forward to anything.
Then she looked to her sister.
“Queso dip is bubbling, Iz,” Addie told her. “I turned it down low and the skillet’s ready to brown it in the oven.”
“Thanks, doll,” Izzy replied just as the dogs took off toward the front, only Ranger barking.
Johnny saw Izzy’s eyes shift there and she visibly went from sure of herself, setting up an outdoor party, to flustered.
She was worried her friends wouldn’t like him.
He finished with the cork, shoved the bottle back in the ice water and moved to her to sling an arm around her shoulders.
He then started her moving, murmuring reassuringly, “Don’t worry, sp?tzchen. People like me.”
“You’re likable,” she said, her eyes glued down the wide open space covered in neatly cut grass at the side of her house. “But they’re family.”
He gave her a squeeze. “It’s gonna be fine.”
He saw an African American couple emerging from a big, black truck that was a lot like his, except his was a Ram and theirs was a Ford.
They were vaguely familiar. He’d seen them around town.
The man was a good-looking guy, very tall, barrel-chested, hair cropped close at the sides, longer up top.
He was dressed like Johnny. Jeans. Nice button up. Boots.
The woman was top-heavy and coming out of her short skirt he saw she had legs that were nearly better than Izzy’s, but the dark skin was shining, this something that made them so attractive, he almost couldn’t move his eyes to her face. When he did, he saw she had strong, striking features under short hair that was artfully messy, with wisps of it hugging her cheeks and neck.
She was not dressed like Izzy. Her skirt, as he’d noted, was short. It was also tight and attached to the rest of a bright yellow dress that was loose up top and fell off one of her shoulders. She was wearing spiked heels with complicated ankle straps and walking through the grass without those heels sinking in, because he suspected she never wore anything but heels like those so she could walk anywhere in them.
Izzy’s friend Deanna didn’t hide she was sizing him up.
Her husband didn’t either.
He felt Addie coming up behind them, Izzy beginning to make a move to separate from him to greet her friends, and he saw Deanna beginning to open her mouth, when another vehicle turned into Izzy’s drive.
The dogs that were dancing around the newcomers looked that way then they headed that way, this time all three of them barking.
“Oh no,” Izzy whispered as Deanna and Charlie turned to watch a beat-up, rusted-out, criminally-not-cared for, old, light-blue Mustang come screeching to a halt by Charlie’s truck, kicking up the gravel of Izzy’s drive as well as a fair amount of dust.
He felt something from Izzy.
He felt something more beating at his back.
He twisted to look at Addie to see her face was pale, her eyes were glued to the Mustang and she was holding on to Brooks like someone was trying to tear him from her arms.
Instantly, Johnny let go of Izzy and prowled forward as a tall, lanky man with a mess of dark-brown hair and a scruff of beard, wearing faded jeans with both knees split, a rocker tee and a pair of black motorcycle boots, got out of the Mustang not hiding his movements were agitated and aggressive.
Addie’s husband.
Perry.
“You stupid fucking bitch!” he shouted, eyes on Addie.
Johnny felt Charlie come up beside him, but Perry was on the move and it was like the two men, both of them bigger than Perry, weren’t between him and his wife, blocking his path.
He also ignored the dogs who were holding back from him, but on the alert, a hostile alert, all three of them having bared their teeth and were growling.
Fuck.
“Ranger, down!” Johnny called. “Dempsey. Swirl. Back!”
The dogs minded, but didn’t.
They didn’t jump Perry.
But they did follow him, front shoulders crouched low.
“You stupid fucking bitch!” Perry repeated in a yell, advancing quickly.
“Stop moving,” Johnny growled, shifting quickly to block his advance.
Perry’s gaze cut up to his as he tried to adjust to the side to round Johnny. “Get outta my way, man.”
Johnny adjusted with him as Charlie flanked Addie’s angry husband.
“I said, stop moving,” Johnny warned.
Perry stopped and shouted in his face, “And I said, get outta my way, man!”
“You need to calm down,” Johnny told him.
“You need to fuck off,” Perry returned.
“Listen to me—” Johnny started.
“Kiss my ass,” Perry sneered.
Johnny went on like he didn’t speak. “You got one minute to turn around, get back in your car, go somewhere and cool off then make a meet with Addie when you’re in a different frame of mind.”
“And if I don’t?” Perry asked snidely.
“I’ll detain you while Eliza calls the police,” Johnny answered.
“Fuck you.” He shot to the side, yelling, “Addie!”
Johnny shot to the side and Charlie moved with him, both of the men crowding Perry and moving him back.
“Jesus, fuck off!” Perry shouted, bouncing his chest against Johnny’s.
A low, pissed noise rolled up Johnny’s throat and out his mouth.
“This is not the way this is gonna go.”
A new voice in the conversation made all the men still.
Addie rounded at their free side.
The good news was that she was no longer holding Brooks.
The bad news was that she’d rounded at their free side.
“Get back, sweetheart,” Johnny murmured, taking a step away from Perry but toward her.
“I’m fine, Johnny,” she returned, but her eyes were on her husband.
Perry launched right in.