Until Talon (Until Him 4)

“Hey baby.” He stops what he’s doing to greet me with a kiss. “Did your parents find a place?”

“They did. They’re going over there now then to the store.” I look around. “You guys have gotten a lot done.” The front of the cabinets are gone, the broken dishes and stuff is cleaned up, and the appliances, which had been dented, are no longer around.

“There’s still a lot to do, but we’ll get it done.” He gives my hip a squeeze as Cece comes around the corner followed by Sophie, November, April, Nalia, and Willow.

“Just who we we’re looking for.” Sophie grabs my hand, tugging me away from her son.

“Mom.” He shakes his head, sighing and I wonder what’s going on as she drags me out of the kitchen toward the back door, which November opens up.

“Don’t worry honey, we’ll take good care of her.”

“Right, like I believe that.” I hear him mutter as I’m pulled outside.

“Shouldn’t we be inside helping clean up?” Cece asks as Talon’s sister Willow pushes her down into a seat on the deck under a large umbrella that’s been opened up.

“No,” his cousin April states, as she pulls a bottle of expensive tequila from her purse.

“We’d just be in the way,” Sophie mutters, taking a seat next to me and patting my thigh.

“Exactly,” November agrees, “and how many times do you want to be told ‘don’t lift that,’ ‘be careful,’ ‘wait for me and my big, strong muscles to help you’?”

“Which is why—” His sister Nalia laughs, pulling out a stack of hot pink plastic shot glasses from her bag. “—rather than becoming annoyed with men who believe we are incapable of helping, we’re going to drink until we are incapable of helping.”

“I don’t know,” Cece says, looking at me seeming unsure, and I shrug because I have a feeling they aren’t wrong.

“Trust us.” November hands her a shot. “We’ve been dealing with these guys forever if you go back in there you’re just going to be standing around because they won’t let you do anything.”

“Okay!” She gives in.

“What are we drinking to?” Nalia asks, holding up her glass, and we all follow her lead, lifting ours.

“To badass women who have the ability to take care of everything but more importantly, take care of each other.” April shoots back her shot, and everyone else does the same. Knowing this is going to burn, I squeeze my eyes closed and shoot back the shot, gasping for air after I swallow.

“So,” Sophie says, focusing on me as April starts to fill everyone’s glass again. “Where are your parents today?”

“They’ve found a temporary rental in town, so they’re going to the grocery store to pick up some stuff then take it over there and have a look around.” I leave out what happened this morning and that I’m also sure they need some time alone to talk about it and hopefully get over it.

“And your daughters?” November asks, looking at Cece before shooting back her latest shot.

“They’re with their dad. They’re staying the night with him tonight, and then we’ll stay with my parents until it’s okay for us to come back here.”

“It won’t be long. The guys are determined to get you and your babies back in your house as soon as possible. Really, I wouldn’t be surprised if they all decided to camp out here until it’s done,” November tells her then leans toward April. “Give me another one.”

I shoot back my shot, and then set the glass down on the edge of the firepit between us before she can give me another one. “I can’t drink anymore.” I cover the top with my hand when she tries to fill it once more.

“Aw, come on.” Willow nudges my foot. “One more drink won’t hurt.”

“Mia is a lightweight.” Cece grins at me. “She’d probably pass out until tomorrow night if she had another shot.”

“She’s not lying.” I shrug, and everyone laughs.

“Well, I’ll pay tribute for Mia.” Nalia holds out her glass, and I watch her take another shot, and everyone else follows her lead. With my body feeling relaxed, I place my feet up on the firepit as we talk.

“All the girls should get breakfast tomorrow,” November suggests, looking around the group. “If we go around eight, everyone should be able to make it even the babies.” She starts to pull out her phone, I’m guessing to send a text and ask them.

“I wish I could, but I’m picking my girls up in the morning from their dad’s and taking them to school,” Cece says, and I frown at her.

“Mike can’t take the girls to school tomorrow morning?” I ask, sitting up.

“He has work,” she tells me with a shrug.

“At like nine. He can drop them before he goes to his office, so you can go out to breakfast or sleep in for once.”