Page 130 of Lucky Laces
“Hey, boy!”
Freezing, I glance over the top of my car, see Ernest on his porch.
Damn.
He’s using the cane today.
Which means he’s not feeling good.
“Where are you off to?”he calls.
“The grocery store.We’re out of eggs.”
“Whatcha using eggs for?”he asks and even across the yard, I see his face light up.“Is Diana making her frittata?Because, boy, that frittata will have you falling in love.”
“Too late for that,” I tell him.
He grins.“Thatta boy.”
“Anyway, she’s not making her frittata, I’m making her French toast.”
“I love French toast.”
Christ.
“Me too,” I say and then add because I know that DeeDee would offer the same, “Want to join us for breakfast?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t.”He tilts his head to the side.“Though, I doloveFrench toast.”
A throb in my temple.“Right,” I mutter.“Come over in an hour.I’ll be back from the store and ready by then.”
I tug open the door to my car.“Boy?”
“Ernest,” I say, clinging to my patience, “I really should get going.”
“Didn’t you want some eggs?”He hitches a thumb over his shoulder.“I have some inside.”
Forty-Three
Diana
“DeeDee baby,”I hear from a distance.
But I don’t want to wake up.
I’m tired and cozy and it’s too damned early.
Unfortunately, the voice doesn’t go away.
“No,” I groan, burrowing deeper into my pillows.“More sleeping.Less talking.”
“Hmm,” I hear, and unfortunately it draws me closer to the surface of wakefulness.“Normally, I would love you sleepy and naked in bed.But we have a senior citizen chaperone.”I frown, processing that as a hand ghosts over my cheek, my neck, down along my side, taking the blankets with them.
“Hey!”I cry as cold invades, my eyes flashing open.
“I made breakfast,” Huddy murmurs, trailing his fingertips over my belly.
Which growls.“You did?”
