Page 16 of Flirty Thirty

She nods, crunching into the cracker. “All four of them. You’d thinkhewas having this baby.”

“Well, he did help make it.”

She snatches the frosting from me. “If you’re going to calmly make logical points then I can no longer call you my best friend.”

I smirk and lean back into the cushions, indulging in the sweet treat after a dud of a night.

“I’m finally past the puking part,” Holland says, filling up a spoon with a glob of frosting. “I want toeat. I’ve missed chocolate. Raspberry sauce.Cake.”

“I have all three of those things.” I grin. “My birthday was just yesterday.”

She turns a pair of brown bulbous eyes in my direction, spoon hanging from her mouth. I laugh at her obviously apologetic expression and dip my own spoon in.

“It’sfine. I had an excellent day all by myself.” Well, and my cats. Not to mention the drive-by kissing I started the day off with.

“I’m horrible,” she croaks. “I’m forgettingeverything, but I wasn’t going to forget that. I wasn’t.” She grabs at her highlighted hair that needs a retouch, but the doctor advised against it, so Warren put his foot down. “I will make it up to you.”

“Just help me eat that cake.”

She lifts her reddened eyes. “Tonight?”

I snort around my spoon and shove off the couch. I’ve spent enough time around pregnant women to know that they are serious about food, that watery eyes happen for no reason, and they make for great company (and birth control).

“You don’t have to…” she mumbles from the couch, watching me fish the cake from the fridge.

“It’s good timing, actually,” I admit, slapping my left butt cheek. “I need to add more cushion to my cushion.”

Holland gives me a weird look, graham cracker dusting her lips. “Care to elaborate?”

“It’s been an eventful couple of days.”

She swivels in her seat so she doesn’t have to crane her neck. “Ooh, my present to you… we’re going to only focus on your drama this time.”

Since I rarely have drama to focus on, I take her up on the offer. “You know how you loved the fact that Warren wanted to marry you right away and you were going to spend all your fun twenties experiencing things together and then have babies at thirty and grow old and have a porch swing and what-have-you?”

Her lips turn down in the corner. “This is not the deal I just laid out for you.”

I lick a stripe of raspberry sauce off my finger and roll my eyes. “I was saying that I think I’ve met your husband’s emotional doppelganger.”

She nods toward the large slice I’m dishing for myself. “And you want to fatten up so he finds you undesirable, is that it? Not quite ready to settle down and too chicken to tell him?”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

Her mouth splits open with light laughter. “What’d you expect from a guy Julie set you up with?”

“Oh, I’m not talking about him.” I slide the cake back into the fridge and carry the two plates over. “I’m talking about Cooper Sterling.”

“Who’s Cooper Sterling?” she says around a forkful of cake that goes into her mouth the moment I hand her the plate.

“You know the beautiful guy who runs by my house every morning?” Holland is the only person privy to that dirty little secret.

“You finally spoke to him?”

“More than spoke.” I sigh, stabbing into the raspberry filling. “He happens to be my newest buyer.”

An excited grin forms on her lips. “Keep going. I’ll eat.”

I get her up to speed as best I can, hoping that I put the appropriate tone to each encounter, including both impromptu kisses, the first by him, the second by me. Hopefully, with Holland being so willing to give her honest opinion these days, I’ll get just that.

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