Page 117 of Wicked Love

I nod at Henley. “You’re not wrong, man.”

I look back at the book and keep reading.

Two things I’m learning about little boys…

1. Never underestimate their commitment to chaos.

2. Always have an extra pair of clothes handy.

~Weston

I laugh, looking at Weston. “What’s the story here?”

“There are too many stories there,” Weston says, laughing. “It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, he finds a way to make a mess and will inevitably need to change his clothes.” He lifts a shoulder. “Maybe little girls are like that too.”

Henley nods, grinning. “Pretty much. Except their clothing changes are more about wanting to put on something cuter…”

Everyone laughs at that.

I glance at my watch and wince. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’ve gotta go. I have to get some things ready for tonight.”

“Yeah, what’s this you’re planning for tonight?” Rhodes asks.

“Project Woo,” I say, pointing at Rhodes. “I’m going to woo the fuck out of this girl.”

They all laugh. It’s the advice Penn gave Rhodes about Elle…advice Henley and Weston adhered with Tru and Sadie too actually.

“I figure it’s worth a go since it worked for the three of you,” I say.

“Something tells me she’s already wooed, but you do this,” Weston says, laughing. “I can’t wait to hear what happens.”

“Best advice I ever gave,” Penn says.

I snort. “Mm-hmm. I think you were heavily influenced by these jokers,” I point to Henley and Weston, “but it did work. Elle married the guy.”

Rhodes smiles proudly. “Damn straight she did.” He looks at me and his expression turns serious. “Make us proud, man. You’ve got this.”

“I’ll let you know how it goes.”

I leave and get to work, wanting everything to be perfect. Later that afternoon, I pick Poppy up and she gasps, her eyes going wide when she sees my haircut.

“What did youdo?” She laughs. She reaches forward to smooth a hand over my scalp. Her touch sets off sparks.

“Lost a bet with the guys. Still want to go out with me?”

I can tell she’s curious about the bet, but she doesn’t push for me to tell her.

“Absolutely,” she says. “You look different. Good different though.”

“It’ll grow back.” That’s going to be my line for the next month at least, I think.

We drive to the marina and I lead her to the boat I’ve rented. It’s a small, classic vessel adorned with an insane amount of flowers. They spill out over the edges of the boat, a flurry of white and pink and lavender that nearly fills the whole boat.

I might have overdone it with the flowers, but when she sees it, she lets out a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Bowie!” She turns to look at me, her eyes shining. “This is…wow.”

I grin, feeling a blush climb my neck. “I wanted it to be special.”

---