He pushed past me, carrying two duffel bags. “My old room, okay?”
“Okay?” I repeated. “For what?”
“Aw,” Tex’s low voice crooned, “did you really think you would get rid of us so easy? Dibs on the bigger room. Mo wants the attached marble bathroom!”
Tex shoved past me. Mo kissed me on the cheek and followed.
Nixon and Trace were next. Bags in hand. Trace winked and skipped after the rest of the group while Nixon shrugged. “We’re family. Family sticks together.”
Chase and Mil drove up and parked directly in front of the door. Mil was yelling at Chase for driving too fast, and Frank was climbing out of the back seat, looking like he was going to puke.
“Frank too?” I frowned.
“Frank gets lonely!” Chase yelled up at me. “Imagine that? He actually likes having us around.”
Frank rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag from the car. “I do love getting talked about as if I don’t exist.”
I couldn’t hold in my smile. While the rest of the gang had just one duffel bag, Frank had a duffel bag, a garment bag, a hat, and a cane. A man after my own heart, he even worsewore scarves. He probably had a closet that made mine look small and cheap.
Frank pointed up toward the house. “I’ll just take the room farthest away from my granddaughter.”
“Good idea,” I choked.
Once everyone was in the house, I went back to grab Andi, only to find her missing.
Laughter echoed out of the kitchen. I followed it.
Wine was open. Lots and lots of wine.
And Andi was talking animatedly about our honeymoon list. Oh shit. She actually had it pulled out.
“We went from thirteen to—”
“Andi.” I coughed and shook my head.
“Damn,” Chase grabbed the Cheetos from Bee. “The story was just getting good.”
The doorbell rang again. “What the hell?”
Nixon moved past me. “It’s probably Ax and Ames, the last of the crew. I’ll get it.”
Sure enough, Ax and Amy walked into the kitchen.
I looked around and fought to keep my emotions from getting the best of me.
It was suddenly so loud in that house that I couldn’t even hear myself think. Mil and Chase were arguing. Typical. Mo was punching Tex in the shoulder repeatedly. Andi was singing the Russian national anthem. Frank was finding more wine — smart man. Nixon and Trace were kissing, moving on, and Ax and Amy were opening the fridge. Phoenix was trying to pry the chips away from Bee, and Chase was reaching past Mil to grab them.
“So,” Andi said loudly, “you guys are all staying the night or what?”
The room fell silent.
“What?” She looked around. “Did you not like my rendition of mother Russia?”
Chase bit down on a Cheeto. “Doesn’t matter how loud you sing it, honey. You’re Italian now.”
“Oh really?” Andi’s face lit up. “How do you figure?”
“You fight like hell.” Tex nodded in appreciation. “Married one of our men… risked your life to save his. I’d say you’re more Italian than Russian.”
Andi beamed. “Does that mean I have to drink wine now?”
“You and your vodka,” I muttered.
“Admit it.” Chase chuckled. “You scrunch up your nose at wine to piss Sergio off.”
Andi grinned. “Guilty.”
“Real mature, Andi.” I wrapped my arms around her from behind and set my chin on her head.
“So…” Andi shrugged. “…you guys are here for a while then?”
Thank God, she didn’t say the end.
“Yup.” Nixon nodded. “Now what’s for dinner?”
All eyes fell to Chase.
“Damn it.” Chase slammed his hand onto the counter. “I’m not your bitch. You can’t make me cook every night!”
Mil whispered something in his ear.
Chase’s grin grew to epic proportions. “Homemade lasagna okay?”
Phoenix groaned. “I don’t even want to know what my sister just uttered.”
“Nope.” Chase bit down on his lip and started swiveling his hips. “But just so you know. We’re trying to get pregnant… and we’re trying really, really, really hard.”
“Say hard again,” Tex joked.
“Hard,” Chase whispered, this time in Phoenix’s ear.
Phoenix raised his hand to smack Chase away, but Nixon intervened. “So lasagna.”
“Buzzkill,” Chase accused.
Frank moved to the middle of the room. “There is not enough wine.”
“What?” I frowned. “I have an entire cellar.”
Fighting erupted again. I could have sworn I saw Chase pull out a gun on Phoenix. I turned to Frank and nodded. “I’ll make some calls.”
“Good man.” He patted my shoulder. “Good man.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Andi
CHASE WAS AN EXCELLENT COOK. IF I hadn’t already been dying, his homemade lasagna would have seriously done me in. The room was buzzing with conversation and laughter — it felt like a real family. One I was a part of.
Frank had already gone upstairs for the evening. Apparently, his being old meant he was not only allowed his own bottle of wine during dinner — but also an eight o’clock bed time.
Bee yawned and put her head on Phoenix. “Bed?”