All the Sauce (IceCats 4)

“No, sir. Thank you. We can go through a drive-through or go to the pub if you insist on going out.”

“So you can wear scrubs? No thank you. I want you to get gussied up and go out. Kick your heels up.”

I make a face. “I haven’t worn heels in over a year.”

“Which is a shame because your calves are hot as hell.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re beautiful,” he throws back with a wink. “Now, I’m Venmoing you.”

“Owen Michael Adler, don’t you dare.”

He has nothing but trouble in those blue depths. “Mm, I want to hear you say that while I’m between your legs.”

A jolt of desire hits me between those very legs. “Jesus Christ!”

He laughs as my phone dings. “Oh shit, look at the time. I gotta go.”

I see the banner telling me I have money in my Venmo account. “I swear I’m going to beat you with my new muscles.”

He winks. “I can’t wait, gorgeous. Make sure you get the sluttiest thing you can find. Lots of boobs and ass, please. Oh, and biceps. I want to lick those.”

Before I can yell at him, the call drops, and I’m left shaking my head.

And grinning.

From ear to ear and feeling it all over.

I can’t get enough of him.

Owen: Send me a pic of what you bought. I don’t want to be surprised.

I make a face when I read his text. Owen will be home tomorrow, and I haven’t even been shopping. I have no desire, nor do I want to put myself through that. I buy everything online and guess at sizes. I don’t have time to do that before he comes to get me tomorrow at three. He hasn’t told me what we’re doing or even given me any clues, but he’s dead set on me getting something fancy for it. I sent him back the money he sent me on Venmo, and he re-sent it. We did that about four times before I just gave up.

Now I have to go shopping, and I have no clue where to go. I haven’t gone shopping for this body yet, and I don’t know if I want to. Maybe I can keep working really hard and just get my old body back by tomorrow?

Why is this so stressful?

Me: I haven’t gone yet. I don’t even know where to go.

Owen: What? Stop being difficult. Go.

Me: I’m not. Really, I only buy sweats and scrubs.

Owen: That’s ridiculous.

Me: I’m realizing that now. Thanks.

When he sends me the gif of Mrs. Doubtfire yelling “Help is on the way!” I make a face. What does that even mean? Before I can ask, though, my patient arrives and I get drawn into work. I don’t even remember to text him back about his message because we’re so jammed today. Thankfully, it’s a short day, and when four o’clock rolls around, my shift is over.

That’s when I see her.

I don’t know her from Adam, but I want to know her. She’s looking right at me while she pushes the cutest little baby in a stroller, and I even glance around to make sure there’s no one else she could be looking for. When I turn my gaze back to her, I’m so taken by her. She is on the thicker side, like me, with long, luscious black hair and big brown eyes. They’re so bright and shiny it looks like she’s crying, but she can’t be. She’s grinning from ear to ear. She wears a pair of fitted high-waisted jeans and a crop top that shows her belly. Yes, belly, and she looks fierce. With a pair of Nikes and a baby bag on her back, she looks like she means business, and instantly, I’m intimidated.

She stops at my desk. “Are you Angie Paxton?”

I blink, clearing my throat. “Yes?”

“Hey,” she says, holding out her hand. “I’m Jean Espinoza. And this right here is Celeste Litman. I’m her nanny.”

Celeste squeals happily, and I smile at her. “Well, hello,” I gush, shaking Jean’s hand. “How can I help y’all?”

“Actually, we’re here to help you,” Jean corrects. “Well, I am. We’re gonna drop Celeste off to her momma, and then we’re gonna head to the mall.”

I furrow my brows. “Huh?”

“Owen sent me.” She says it so simply, and instantly, my heart starts to race.

“Owen sent you?”

“He did. Told me you needed help with clothes, that you’ve lost some weight, and we’re gonna celebrate. Which, by the way, holy shit, girl, you are hot.”

My lips curve. “Thanks. Wow. Okay. Wow, I’m a little overwhelmed.”

“He said you might be,” she says happily. “So, come on. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

For some insane reason, I get up and follow her out. I even get in her car, and off we go, taking Celeste to her mom’s office. I don’t know what I am doing or even why, but I trust Jean, and I trust Owen completely. Plus, I need help with these clothes issues because I’m pretty sure Owen would have words for me if I cut my scrub bottoms into a skirt and called it a day.