Page 193 of The Baby Bargain
And there's her boyfriend, next to her, dressed as the Dread Pirate Roberts.
My heart climbs into my stomach.
Say nice things. Say hello, it's nice to see you, but I have to run. Normal social skills. Easy.
"Grace." I take a step toward her.
She takes one toward me. "You look so grown-up." She laughs. "Your boobs look great."
"Thank you." I bite my lip. How the hell am I supposed to take that? I mean, I can't saywait until you see how good they look when I chop them off and replace them with saline. I'm thinking I'll trade up. Might as well, right?
"They were so much… uh… doesn't she look cute, John?" She motions to her boyfriend.
He just laughs.
Finally, Grace pulls her eyes from me. Surprise spreads over her expression as she takes in Chase.
It's all over her face.
"Oh. Chase." Her cheeks flush. A blush of embarrassment, not desire. "I didn't… I'm sorry. I thought—" She turns back to John. "I thought this was Steve's party."
"That's what he said." The Pirate—I can't call him John—wraps his arm around his girlfriend.
God, they're cute together. And not just because they're dressed as an iconic couple. Or because she looks so pretty and regal with her long blond hair.
Is that her real hair? It's not a wig, but it could be extensions. Skye would be able to tell. She's great with this stuff, whereas I look like a raccoon every time I apply eyeliner.
There's a comfort to their gesture. Like they've been together forever. Like they're madly in love.
"Oh, uh, I guess you don't know John." Grace clears her throat. "Chase, this is John. John, this is Chase."
John extends his hand.
Chase shakes.
"Guess Grace has a type." John taps his black mask. Nods to Chase's all black outfit.
God, they are dressed the same.
There are small differences—The Pirate has black gloves and pull on boots. Chase is in combat boots and he's out of his mask.
But it's basically the same outfit.
We saw her Instagram.
We saw the Buttercup costume. Maybe that's why he… maybe he's not channeling Matt Murdock and all our conversations about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
Maybe he's dressing as Grace's other half.
With a smidge of plausible deniability.
My stomach churns. My veins buzz. It's the same ugly feeling as when Phillip talked about his boss.
I shouldn't be jealous.
But I am.
"You look good, Chase." Grace's voice is honest. Earnest. "Are you good?"
