Page 23 of Forbidden Fruit (Sweet Treats 7)

“You love baby talk,” I giggle. “Who knew that the mighty Owen Merchant would become so googly-eyed for a baby girl?”

He grins and gives me a discreet pinch on my behind, making me tingle where it counts.

“I’m always googly-eyed when we’re discussing you, sweetheart,” he growls. “Kristy want a twisty?”

I giggle again because sometimes Owen and I like to engage in age play. It’s a fun thing that we do on occasion. In the privacy of our home, I’ll put on a frilly babydoll dress, patent Mary Janes, and cute little knee socks. Then, Owen becomes my daddy and we do all sorts of naughty things together involving lollipops, suckers, and crayons, among other exciting toys.

But in public, we act normally because there’s already been enough excitement in this town. I smile lovingly at my husband again, and he smiles back, so handsome it almost hurts. But then, a slight squint comes to his eyes as he gazes over my shoulder. Who is it? A sugary voice interrupts my thoughts.

“Heeeeey Kristy,” sing-songs an all-too-familiar tone. I spin around, and sure enough, it’s my ex-friend Kaylee. Her hair is a too-bright blonde with dark roots, and her make-up looks spackled on. Even though we’re in the bright light of day, she’s wearing sparkly blue eyeshadow, garish red lipstick, and a skin-tight denim mini-dress.

Even more surprising is the man she has on her arm. My ex, Ryder, stands next to her, although he’s shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. Although Ryder has always been tall, he’s still an inch or two shorter than Owen. Not only that, but he must be thirty pounds less than my boyfriend. Comparing them is literally comparing a teen boy to a full-grown alpha male with broad shoulders and a take-no-prisoners demeanor.

“Hey Kaylee,” I say graciously. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since graduation.”

It’s true. I haven’t seen Kaylee since she walked across the stage because we stopped talking after prom. I saw her occasionally in the hallways at school but always looked the other way. Britt tried to mediate between us, but it was no use. I couldn’t get over the mental picture of Ryder’s bronzed buttocks pumping between her thighs, and it still grosses me out, even if I’m over it.

Meanwhile, my former friend bats her lashes at Owen.

“I’m good,” she simpers. “Ryder and I are getting married, did you hear?” she asks, sticking out her left ring finger. On it is a huge stone, but something about the rock makes me stop in my tracks. It’s too big, if anything, and it doesn’t sparkle quite right. My guess is that it’s glass, if not plastic.

“Um, no I didn’t hear,” I say quickly. “But congrats to you both! Great to see you Ryder,” I say.

He looks down and shuffles his feet a bit. For the first time, I notice that Ryder’s hair is thinning on top, and it seems that without the rigor of high school sports, he’s getting a little pudgy around the middle.

“Thanks,” he mutters. “It’s good to see you Kristy,” he continues. “I’m real sorry about –”

But Kaylee interrupts.

“Bye now!” she tinkles while yanking her fiancé by the arm. “We have to go. We’re picking out floral arrangements,” she says, throwing her bottle blonde hair over one shoulder while hoisting her designer bag more firmly over the other. “Come on, Ryder,” she commands. “Tut tut.”

She walks off with my ex-boyfriend trailing two feet behind her. He looks more like a pet dog than a fiancé, and I feel terrible for him. To be honest, I feel terrible for them both because I can tell they have a lifetime of bad decisions and misery ahead.

“Was that them?” Owen asks me, once they’re out of earshot. “The ones who wrecked your prom? Man, what a piece of work. Make that pieces of work, plural,” he adds.

I laugh a little, pushing Rose’s stroller once again.

“You’re right. They’re both pieces of work,” I agree. “I heard through the grapevine that Kaylee’s working as an Influencer on Instagram, which explains the heavy make-up and skin-tight clothes. Good luck to her. That field is crammed with competitors these days. But Ryder? I don’t know what he’s up to.”

“She’s an influencer?” Owen asks with disbelief, watching Kaylee and Ryder leave. “But what is she trying to sell? Who would buy anything from her?”

I shrug.

“I don’t know, but I heard all these different filters can make anyone look good, even if you have on eight layers of makeup. But Ryder couldn’t be an influencer too, could he? That’s not a job that many men do well at.”

Owen grows thoughtful a moment before answering.

“Actually, believe it or not, Ryder tried to get a commercial driver’s license to become a trucker,” he mentions lightly. “I saw his name on the list. But it was a no go.”

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