“Anatomically correct, yes, we know,” Maren says. “Though the boxes aren’t big enough to be Nick dolls, because he wouldn’t do himself in miniature.”
“We definitely want to see,” Muffy confirms. “You owe me. I mean, you hired me to match you, and now look at you all smiling and happy.”
“You didn’t hook her up with Nick,” Maren points out.
“I helped her see what she was missing in breaking up with him,” Muffy replies triumphantly.
I don’t know if she’s serious, or if that’s her new tagline, until she adds, “And you wouldn’t have hired me if you didn’t believe I could do the same magic for you.”
Maren goes a rare raspberry color in the cheeks, and I put her out of her misery by tearing into the first box.
“Awwww!”
“Oh my god, he did not.”
“So CUUUUUUTE! Can I have one? I want one. Please? Please, Kami?”
I pull out the pillow, stamped with Sugarbear’s face, and find another pillow with a different picture of Sugarbear underneath. “They’re all different!”
We tear through the boxes, and sure enough, Nick’s delivered an entire cow photoshoot on throw pillows. Thirty different Sugarbear photos.
Some are just her face. Some are whole body shots. Some have her in costumes, wearing a mustache or a bonnet.
“He is not doing this all himself,” Maren says.
“I think he is.” I can’t stop smiling, because this is so ridiculous it’s awesome. “The dick cookies? The book? The billboard? That’s evil Nick. This is sort of also evil Nick, but with purer intentions.”
Maren blinks at me, and then we’re both cracking up.
“Okay, fine,” she says, throwing her hands in the air. “A life with Nick Murphy would not be boring. I’ll give you that. But I’m still not convinced he deserves you.”
I’m convinced.
And not because of the cow pillows, but because of everything else.
The date.
Him talking me down last night over my embarrassment over Aunt Hilda leaking my secret obsession.
The way he hugged me before we got into his car for him to take me to my parents’ place. Nick doesn’t do anything half-assed, and hugging is no exception. He had me wrapped in his body, in his scent, in his heat, and it was only the porch light flickering on and Mrs. Murphy sticking her head out the door that had kept my hands from going wandering into his jeans.
“I’m moving out first thing tomorrow,” he’d said, “and when I get back from Texas, you and me and Sugarbear are going on another date.”
I know he likes my body.
But there’s something magical about realizing he likes me also.
“She has it bad,” Muffy whispers to Maren.
“He damn well better too,” Maren replies.
Dixie, Pancake, and Tiger all claim Sugarbear pillows.
My phone dings, and I pull it out again, ready to reply to whatever Nick’s sent this time.
Except it’s not Nick.
It’s a contact I made at the Heartwood Manor Farm Park a couple weeks ago.
Kami – you still looking for a home for a calf? We might have space. Call me later this morning when you get a chance.
My heart sinks.
This should be good news, but…how am I going to break it to Nick?
Thirty-Six
Nick
The ambush doesn’t surprise me.
I knew Felicity knew Kami had a crush on me while I was oblivious—and a dick—but I don’t know if Felicity knew Kami had said she was going to marry me.
So when she, Ares, Loki, and Lavoie come trooping into the kitchen while I’m on the phone with my real estate agent, I grab a plate of bacon, hit the coffee maker button to start a new pot, and head to the back porch so they can chew me out without Mom overhearing.
But they’re not chewing me out.
They’re asking what they can do to help me get moved out of here.
“You cannot date my best friend when you can’t have her sleep over at your place,” Felicity declares.
“Or if you’re crashing with friends,” Lavoie adds.
I just stare at my sister. “You’re not here to chew me out?”
“You sent Kami dog treats.”
“Ah…”
“That takes thought, Nick. That takes noticing someone other than yourself. And you not only did it, but you also adopted a cow.”
“She’s more Mom’s than mine,” I say quickly, even though I’d arm wrestle my own mother if she tries to keep me from taking Sugarbear when I finally get a new place.
“Mom doesn’t play fetch with her and take thirty million pictures of her a day.”
Fuck, I think I’m blushing. “Big dudes need big pets.”
Ares hands Loki a bag of dried fruit and smirks at me, because he’s a big guy with a little pet.
“Pets with big personalities count,” I tell him.
“The whole team’s signing an agreement to not engage in purchasing or taking possession of animals for the purposes of pranks,” Lavoie tells me. “Ares, Frey, and I are going to talk to the manager in their building with it. We can get you hooked up with a new place before we hit the airport this afternoon.”
While they detail all their plans to help get me moved out of my parents’ basement, I text back and forth with Kami—and her weird but growing on me cousin—because I already have plans. “Thanks, but not necessary,” I tell them. “I can’t get rid of Sugarbear. She’s my good luck charm. You guys want to turn around, drop your pants, and bend over? Kami missed seeing the moon last night.”
They all glare at me, I get the picture, and I shoot it to Kami.
Then I pop the last piece of bacon in my mouth and head back inside. “Appreciate the help, but I’ve got it under control.”
“The last time you said that, penguins invaded the arena,” Lavoie points out.
I just smile.
It makes them nervous.
But thirty minutes later, when Lavoie leaves to go get packed for our road game, and Felicity gets sucked into a conversation with Mom about which bedroom upstairs would be best for the nursery Mom wants to put in the house for when she babysits the baby, I join Ares in the living room and prop myself up in the recliner.
He’s watching last night’s game coverage from all the teams in the league. I should be too—always good to know what new tricks the enemies are trying—but I don’t want to watch more hockey.
I need advice.
I hit the mute button, and he looks at me like he’s just waiting for the inevitable. Like he knows what I’m going to ask, but he’s going to wait for me to ask it, because he’s not going to do me any favors.
“Good game last night,” I tell him.
I get the dry Ares look of you’re being a dumbass and wasting my time.
Damn good thing I’ve never seen him give my sister that look.
I drop the footrest and lean forward, elbows on my knees, and I drop my voice. “How do you do it? How do you balance hockey and being a good boyfriend?”
“Don’t fuck her in the shed,” he says.
For fuck’s sake. “Yeah. Figured that out. Thanks.”
He smirks.
“I’m serious, jackass. Kami’s—she’s—if any other woman in the world was plotting to marry me in two months, I’d be freaking the fuck out. But I’m not. Because she’s Kami. She’s—she gets me. And she still likes me. And that’s…”
“Weird?” he offers.
Except I’m pretty sure he’s not making fun of me, because it wasn’t that long ago that Ares didn’t date either.
Because he was weird too.
I nod.
He takes a deep breath. “When you know, you know. Just don’t fuck it up again. She comes first, always.”
“Tried that last night,” I mutter.
“With your clothes on too. Make sure she knows she’s special. Only one for you.”
He makes it sound so simple.
Maybe it is.
She’s not hard to please, which makes me feel like an even bigger asshole for never trying harder before. But I’m trying now.
“I feel like I’m getting more out of this than she is,” I confess to my brother-in-law, which is also a weird feeling.
Loki chirps and throws a pen at me, as though he agrees with my assessment and also loves Kami.
He probably does. She’s his vet, and sometimes she monkeysits him.
“Do you see her?” Ares asks me.
“As often as possible.”
And now I’m getting the don’t be a dumbass look again. “Not happy Kami. What she wants and who she is. The parts that she hides.”
“Oh.”
He just went over my head.
That’s not good.
Because Kami doesn’t hide stuff.
She hid how much she liked you, dumbass, a snide voice that sounds like Zeus reminds me.
And does her family know she wants to live in the country?
What other secrets could Kami possibly be hiding? She’s Kami. She likes dogs. She’s followed the Thrusters her whole life. She was a cheerleader in high school. She feels like the dumb one in her family.
Fuck, I’m totally lame. If I’m supposed to be reading between the lines here, I didn’t even know I’d opened a book.
“I don’t think I deserve her,” I tell Ares.
He nods. “Step one. Good job, Nick.”
“Step one is realizing I don’t deserve her?”
He nods again. Loki shrieks with laughter, the obnoxious little fucker.
“What’s step two?”
He grins, and I realize the bastard isn’t going to tell me. Felicity pops her head into the living room, glancing suspiciously between us. “Were you two…talking?”
It’s a legit reason to be suspicious. That’s more words than I’ve gotten out of Ares total since he started dating her almost a year ago. I know he talks to her more—I’ve walked in on the two of them whispering before—but he doesn’t use words with the rest of us unless he has to.