"Who cares," Reese announced. "He's hot, that's all I know. Though he seriously needs more shirtless scenes on the show."
Finished with my cutting task, I set the cloth and scissors in the bag beside me and snorted. "He's shirtless in, like, every episode."
"I know." Reese aimed the remote at the television and started flipping through channels. "It's totally not shirtless enough."
With a laugh, I put my project on hold for a while so I could enjoy this quality time with my bestie. Lifting a chunk of her dark hair and beginning to braid it, I realized that soon we wouldn't have these moments together anymore. She'd be married to Mason, and I'd have Skylar. We were headed in entirely different directions. Better, but different directions. All the same, I'd miss the hell out of her.
"Hey, what about this one?" Having found a movie on Amazon Prime, Reese waved her remote at the television screen to gain my attention.
I lifted my face only to frown. "That doesn't have Jake, Channing, or Zac in it."
"But it's got Chris Hemsworth. So . . . same thing. We're watching it."
"Okay, Sweet Pea," I agreed, using the name Mason called her. "Whatever my adorable, precious bride-to-be wants."
But as soon as she pressed play, her cell phone rang.
Reese leapt off me with the agility only a non-pregnant girl could accomplish and jogged into the kitchen for her phone. "It's Mason," she called, only to answer with a low, seductive, "Hey, most handsome man in the world. How're you doing?"
After listening for a moment, she paused and sent me a significant glance. "Oh, he does, does he?" An ornery grin spread across her face. "Well, sure. Eva and I would just love to deliver Pick a new shirt."
At that name, I sat up straighter, paying rapt attention as my blood raced with interest.
Reese met my gaze, and arched an eyebrow as she kept talking into the phone. "'Kay. Sure. Love you too. Bye." When she disconnected, her smile was a little too smug. "Well, well, well."
"What?" I demanded, needing to learn whatever little scrap of information I could about Mason's coworker. "Why are we delivering Pick a new shirt?"
"I knew it!" She snapped her finger and pointed at me, crowing, "I just knew it. You're totally into him, aren't you? Aren't you? Yes, you are!"
My face flushed as I ground my teeth. "Give me a break," I muttered. "I'm seven and half months pregnant. The last thing I want is any kind of involvement with some guy."
Except maybe that guy. Ugh, why couldn't I get him off my mind? We'd had one brief encounter weeks ago, and that was it.
"I don't know," Reese murmured, tapping her chin idly as she studied me. "Becca said she'd never been so horny in her life as she was when she was pregnant."
I scowled. "Yeah, except there's something seriously wrong with your sister." Though maybe that was my problem. My freaking pregnancy hormones were making me horny. But why had Pick been the only one to set them off?
"He is pretty hot," Reese said as if answering my unspoken question. "I mean, not as hot as Mason. But there's definitely some notable steam rolling off him. The tattoos and piercings make him seem all wild and uncontrollable."
"Whatever," I snapped, sending her an incredulous glower. There wasn't a single thing wild about him. And besides, "He's way hotter than Mason."
Crap, I'd totally just admitted I was attracted to him, something I shouldn't even be thinking about. I didn't want guys on my radar. Even considering men and relationships when I was a little preoccupied with become a single, first-time mother was just plain ridiculous. What was wrong with me?
Reese didn't seem to notice the panic on my face; she was too busy choking on her disagreement. "Not even possible. No one—I mean, no one—is hotter than Mason."
I patted her hand sympathetically. "Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, sweetie. Now, what happened to Pick's shirt?"
I was dying of curiosity over here. Had some female customer ripped it off him? Not that I'd blame her. I was curious to know what he looked like bare-chested, too. He was probably more of a Jake Gyllenhaal lookalike . . . with more tattoos. Yum.
"Well, apparently, your lover boy came to work tonight without knowing he had dried baby puke running down the back of his shirt." When I pulled back in surprise, she arched an eyebrow. "Did you know he had a baby?"
"No." I shook my head, feeling almost betrayed, which made absolutely no sense because I was carrying around thirty extra pounds of my own kid over here. "Keep t
alking."
She rolled her eyes, but complied. "Anyway, he doesn't have any time to run home and fetch a fresh clean one, so Mason wanted to know if I—but I'm including you in this errand too because I love you and know you want to see him—could grab one of his shirts and speed it down there for his friend to wear."
"Of course, we will." I struggled to get off the couch, feeling like a freaking beached whale that couldn't move as my arms floundered for help.