I smiled. “Sure. At least I’m getting fed out of the deal.”
“Damn right. I’m about to drool on my shoes.” Ryan grinned as she leaned into her guy. “PMS, meet the owner of this little piece of amazing, Tish Burns.”
Preston gave me a rueful smile. “Preston Shaw.” He held out his hand. “Pleasure.”
I shook his hand then quickly tucked my hand back into the front pocket of my hoodie. “Glad you could come.”
Ryan’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “We’re totally barging in. Luna tends to do that. Just takes over and makes you think it’s a good ida.”
“Fair assessment.”
I really sucked at the chitchat thing. It had to end soon, right?
“It’s okay. I had to get used to all the peopling too.”
I laughed. “Sure about that?”
Ryan lifted a shoulder. “Luna likes her people together—new and old. And we do what the pregnant lady says. It’s just easier. Did she drag you into the wedding yet?”
“God, no.”
Ryan sipped from a bottle. “Give her time. Oh, our turn.” She skipped up to Lucky. “Hotter the better for me, sir.”
“All right, all right,” Lucky quipped with a decent McConaughey inflection.
The heavenly scents of food made my mouth water. Thank God for the music or everyone would’ve heard my growling belly.
Finally, it was my turn. All the couples had paired up around the bonfire, their chairs clustered close as they shared plates and drinks with naturally flowing conversation between them.
I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been that relaxed in a group. I’d always moved around too much to make real friends. I could talk trash in the garage with guys without trouble. Most of the time, they didn’t want more than a beer and to crack a few jokes.
Occasionally, it ended in a bounce, but that was always a fine line for me. Getting men to give me my due on a professional level was always the hardest part of being a successful woman in a field made up predominantly of males. Muddying it up with sex wasn’t worth it the majority of the time.
My family was easy with little bouts of drama here and there, but even that was few and far between with all of us scattered around the country. And even less after…
Well, after Jimmy.
I lifted a beer from the tub of ice and cracked the can. I sure didn’t want to think about Jimmy tonight.
“Looks good, Thor. Smells better.”
“Just you wait.” With a flourish, he built the Lucky-sized slider. First, the burger then pepper jack cheese topped with piping hot pulled pork. The sharp scent of lime made me take another sip of my beer to cover the drool.
Finally, he topped it with coleslaw. I almost stopped him, but he seemed to have a goal in mind. The buttered bun was set on top with a sword-shaped toothpick to hold it all together.
“I’m not really a cabbage person.”
“Special recipe. Trust me.”
He made another larger one for himself, though not that much different, to be honest. He was generous with his portions. A growing Thor, I supposed.
Also, I had no desire to think about Thor growing in any shape or form.
He jerked his head toward the table laden with salads. “Fill up a plate and we’ll share.” He lifted each of our plates dripping with barbecue goodness.
“I don’t share.”
“C’mon, make it easy. I see you eyeing this thing of beauty.”