Page 23 of Married to Number 22
She scowls then mutters begrudgingly. “At least you’re a pain in the ass who gives great orgasms.”
My dick twitches and I shake my head at her. “Behave.”
Finally, she smiles. “Never.”
I chuckle, start for the door.
“Get dressed, tiny tornado, and I’ll handle my family.”
“Try this, sweetheart!”my mom declares, shoving the apple turnover in Luna’s direction.
Luna, who’s spent the last hour being practically force-fed pastries at Molly’s, widens her eyes at me.
“Mom,” I begin.
But just like back in my condo, where walking out into the living room intent on handling the craziness that is my family…I’m completely ignored, any plans of getting them to disappear so Luna and I could finish celebrating our birthdays totally derailed.
“Try it,” my mom demands, waving it at her again.
“Thank you, Kathy,” Luns says politely, “but really, I’m full.”
“Pish,” my mom says, shaking her head. “Full only counts with airplanes and trash cans.”
I frown, trying to make sense of the nonsense my mom is spouting—and deciding she’s not wrong—but before I can get back to rescue Luns from carb overload, Carrie reaches in, snagging the apple turnover and beginning the extremely hard work of disposing of it in her stomach.
Speaking of trash cans.
Heh.
“Mom,” she says between bites, so really, it comes out asShmwom. “Cool it on force-feeding Luna food. You’ve already put her through the wringer enough.”
“But this isLuna,” my mom says. “OurLuna.”
Right.
Something else that didn’t go as planned.
Because they remembered Luna about two seconds after I mentioned her name. Which meant that by the time Luns made her way out of my bedroom—fully dressed, thankfully (or maybe not for me, considering exactly what my family interrupted)—they remembered everything: Luna my best friend from the rink; Luna the girl I had a crush on; Luna the girl from the troubled family.
No mom. Workaholic dad. Brother who was—and presumably still is—a total dick.
And now the one solid in her life, Grams, gone.
It took exactly thirty seconds afterthatsummary for my mom to declare that Luna was joining us for my birthday breakfast at Molly’s—and that it had just becomeourbirthday breakfast.
Mostly so Luns wouldn’t be alone on her birthday.
And also because she needs toput some meaton her bones.
Hence the force-feeding.
The only positive is that my mom fussing over Luna meant that I was able to secure the marriage contract.
Not that it’s a real contract.
Not that it really means anything.
So why then had I carefully tucked it into a drawer in my office, treating the paper like it’s more fragile that the Declaration Of Independence?
