Wrong Bed Baby (Crescent Cove 10)

In any case, I was happy with my lot. I wouldn’t have minded a bit more green to grease the wheels, but then again, who would?

Lucky tied back his long hair, swatting away the sweaty pieces sticking to his neck. “Yeah, Ivy’s getting used to that high-rolling life. Next thing you know, she’ll move out there. Probably get a pad on the beach. That’d be something to have a place to crash at on the west coast, huh?”

I didn’t say anything. My family was close. Sure, we had our occasional spats like any other. Now and then, we didn’t speak for days at a time. Life got busy.

But I didn’t want to lose my sister across the damn country. I definitely didn’t want to only see my niece on FaceTime and for occasional vacations. I was her favorite uncle. The fun one who’d hired a clown for her last birthday—Lucky, of course—and helped her whip up and down the sidewalk on her tricycle. She’d had a small accident and busted open her lip on account of the raised lip on the sidewalk, but she’d healed fine, right? And she had a hell of a story for the kids at playgroup. You know, for when she could talk coherently.

She was a sentient toddler now, so I was enjoying my little RhiRhi more with each passing month. But infants were another story. My other niece, Vivian, was a bit younger, so we were still working on communication beyond goo-goo gaa-gaa.

I wasn’t one for babies. Nope, never. Not my bag. I preferred kids once they got past the drooling and excessive pooping stages.

Lucky straightened and grabbed a soda for himself, popping the top. “Well, if Ivy can’t help, then you gotta get your mom involved. They live for that stuff.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s on like fourteen town committees. She barely has time to sleep, when you factor in her work at the gallery. Besides, who says I need a damn decorator? I didn’t at my old place.”

He laughed and took a long drink. “Yeah, and it looked great. Not. Most of the rooms didn’t even look lived in. You can’t do that in a swank place like this, man. Forrester’s taken all these apartments up a notch.” He let out a belch. “When you invite over that sexy chick who strips for tuition, you don’t want to make her sit on the floor. Then again, if you do, I have a better chance.” He nudged my shoulder. “I still owe you one for the Sanders’ sisters.”

He’d imparted so much in that barrage of information, I didn’t even know what to unpack first. “Uh, the Sanders’ sisters were almost a year ago.”

“Hell no. They were this spring.” He frowned and drank more. “Weren’t they?”

“Try last fall. And I didn’t hook up with both, just Judy. You just didn’t like that they both weren’t immediately bowled over by your baby greens.”

“Says you. What happened with you guys?”

I shrugged. “We went out a few times. We’re still friends. Just no spark.”

“But she’s smokin’. Doesn’t that count for something?”

I shrugged again and finished off my lemonade, feeling like a class A chump. How could I tell him I was developing an aversion to casual dating? Not because I wanted something serious. Hell no.

Lucky and I were Crescent Cove’s original bachelors. When all the single men around us tumbled like timber for the whole marriage and babies scene, we stood strong. We didn’t want any of that. Pleasures of the flesh were enough for us, thank you.

No commitment. No stress.

No way, not in baby central anymore. How could you possibly enjoy a no-strings hookup in a place like the Cove? We’d become known across the northeast for ease in procreation. The damn town bird might as well have been the stork.

I gestured to the remaining items left in the back of my SUV. We’d packed that sucker like a Tetris game, taking advantage of every millimeter of space. “You going to help me with this stuff or what?”

“Help? I’ve been carrying most of it while you stand around out here sipping lemonade like a southern belle.” To show off—as usual—he picked up my bookcase under one arm and grabbed another small shelving unit with his other hand. Then he winked at me before heading inside.

Since I knew quite well his posturing probably had to do with the woman he’d mentioned probably innocently dancing in her own apartment, I grabbed a couple of small end tables and followed him toward the sexy music.

After we went upstairs, I stepped around him to open the door to the hallway before we continued on toward my apartment. The music only grew louder as we walked.

Apartments branched off in two directions. There were only a few on each floor, and for now, there were three levels. There was still room for more on the very top floor, but Forrester was taking his time there, gauging interest, before he decided to make it one big place or split it up like the other ones. On the roof, there was a communal gathering space for all the tenants’ use.

This property right across from the lake was in a prime location, what with Macy’s Brewed Awakening on the bottom floor and the Cove’s real estate market booming. I’m sure Forrester liked being the hottest ticket in town.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled as I walked into the back of Lucky, who had stopped dead outside my door.

And who could blame him, because the door across the hall was cracked open, just enough to reveal a scantily clad blond winding around a pole that had been drilled into her floor. Or attached there somehow, well enough to support the gyrations she was doing around it.

To it.

“Told you,” Lucky said smugly, panting slightly from what he held. He appeared to be glued in place and had not set it down yet.

“Does she realize the door is open?”