My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

“Patches!” I exclaimed as if my shop cat required tending.

She liked her solitary lifestyle during the hours the store was closed. The few times I’d tried to corral her into coming home with me had ended with me sporting an interesting collection of war wounds. I was as isolated as the cat, if not by choice in my case. At least not entirely.

Ivy rolled over that as if I hadn’t spoken. “Just for one night, Kin. You can stay in the guest bedroom.”

“The one next to your bedroom? Where you sleep?”

As inane as the question was, Ivy seemed strangely nonplussed. “Usually, yes, bedrooms are for sleeping. Unless you’re worried about privacy.”

“What? Me? Why would I need privacy? I’m alone. Hello.”

Sage cleared her throat. “I’m just going to go,” she gestured vaguely, “somewhere. See you both soon.” She gave Ivy a quick squeeze.

“Do you want to say goodbye to Vee?” Ivy craned her neck. “Not sure where she disappeared to.”

“I shouldn’t be away from home. I can’t sleep near where you and Rory are, in case you need sex.”

Yet again, Ivy disregarded my protests.

I couldn’t even blame her. I sounded like a drunken drowning woman.

Who was freaking the heck out at being in my nightie with just a few walls between me and August. And with boundaries lowered by alcohol. Again.

Although in all fairness, the wine hadn’t done much except make me looser. It didn’t make me want August any more than I already did. I’d wanted him long before we slept together.

No wine goggles here. More like I saw everything so much clearer when I didn’t let my concerns run the show. As I did almost always.

Except for that one incredible night…

“You go ahead,” I mumbled as Ivy waited for my response. “Say goodbye to Vee for me too, please.”

“You sure?” She was already moving away.

“Yeah, thanks.” I tucked my hands in my pockets and moved to the door to wait for her.

The buzz from my phone made me jump and I had to laugh at myself. That much wine and I was still as jumpy as a cat.

Then again, who could blame me at the prospect of being so close to August and not being able to do anything about it?

I mean, I could, but if he had this latex thing and I wasn’t on the pill…

No. I could not. That was a recipe for danger.

A danger I might have wanted to lean into, just a little bit. Especially when I tugged out my phone and read his text.

You been into your cups? Need me to come rescue you from too much girl talk?

And a wink.

A wink from August sent my mind straight into the gutter.

Ivy reappeared and I quickly pocketed my phone. “Is ‘into your cups’ a Rory saying?”

“A variation of that, yes. Why?”

Rory’s Irish-isms rubbing off on August despite himself made me smile. I tucked my hair behind my ears and shook my head. “Just curious. Is Vee okay with us leaving?”

“Since everyone else is also going and Vee and Murphy are slow dancing in the kitchen to Frank Sinatra, I think they’re very okay with it.” Ivy grinned.