Leave it to Simon and his charm to spin a tale about scaring the crap out of his best friend by planting the books all over Nick’s house. Since it definitely sounded like one of Simon’s pranks, the woman at the checkout counter didn’t bat an eye. Oh, and she got a signed copy of the latest Rolling Stone that happened to have her husband’s cheeky mug on the cover.
Speaking of, where the hell was her husband? They had to leave soon.
“Simon?” She took another bite of her apple and set her book down on the end table of her practice nook.
“In here.”
She followed his voice down the hall to find him on the floor of their guest bedroom with a pile of white boards spread around him. She pressed her lips together against a laugh. “Oh, Simon.”
He looked up, his eyebrows furrowed. “These instructions suck.”
“Have you ever used a drill in your life?”
“No.” He picked up the bright yellow drill. “It only took me three tries to figure out this caster thing versus a regular screw. Why you need both, I have no clue.”
“Think it has something to do with stability.”
“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.”
She took another bite. “What’s it supposed to be?”
“Very funny.”
“No, seriously?”
He reached for the box and waved it at her. “It’s just a bookcase, but the directions seem like they come from NASA.”
She dropped down next to him. “When did you buy all this?” There were two more boxes against the wall.
“Was just delivered.”
“Did you forget something?”
He frowned. “No. I don’t think so. Two bookcases and a little end table thing.” He leaned forward and stole a bite of her apple. “How many of these have you eaten?”
She yanked it out of his reach. “Don’t mess with my coffee.”
He rolled her onto her back. “Coffee?”
“Hey!” She held her arm up off the carpet. “Are you looking to lose a limb?”
He reached up and took the apple out of her hand, setting it on the slightly warped version of a bookcase. “You can’t binge on apples. That’s far too much fiber.”
“What, now I can’t have fiber, either?”
“No, just don’t want you farting all night.”
“Simon!”
He laughed down at her, caging her in with a hand along each side of her head. “What? Not that I don’t love all of you and your cute little toots.”
“I hate you so much.”
He leaned down to her, coasting his lips over her cheek and down her jawline. “Nah. You love me. I’m your favorite babymaker.”
“Better be the only one.”
“Last of the bunch, actually. At least in our little group.”