Page 72 of The Guy in the Alley

“Think about how cute I am.” I threw that out there, reminding him of the word he’d used at Costco. Fucking cute. What about irresistibly sexy? I’d rather be that.

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I cranked up my innocence and rubbed his arm.

This might actually be fun.

Unfortunately, my phone started ringing, and only one person was ballsy enough to call me this early.

Ziggy woke up and looked our way, quickly losing his interest.

“Hold that thought,” I said and stood up. “Or move on to a better thought if the current one isn’t working in my favor. We don’t need negativity in our home.”

I grabbed my phone from the armrest, and sure enough, it was the Spawn of Satan calling.

“Mornin’, sis?—”

“Thank God you’re awake,” Sarah croaked. She sounded like death warmed over, so I guessed my day off now included uncle duties. “Is there any way you can watch Charlie after kindergarten? I woke up with a fever and haven’t stopped barfing.”

“Thanks for the image.” I made a face. “Do you need help getting him there first?”

“No, one of his friends’ mothers is picking him up in an hour,” she replied. “I don’t have the freaking time to be sick, and this week is so busy.”

Yeah, I knew that. I was gonna watch Chip on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

“We’ll work it out,” I said. “When do I pick him up?”

“Three-fifteen. The problem is, I promised him we’d go to that color run thing by Navy Pier—the Monday to Monday in Color I told you about? Today is the last day.”

I didn’t remember Sarah saying anything, but Chip had been buzzing about it for days.

“Okay, so I’ll take him.” I shrugged. We could get a couple beefs afterward. “What time is the run?”

“You’re the best, Trace—thank you so much. They start a run every hour from noon till six. I’ll email you the information. It’s free, by the way. And it’s in that park right before the pier, you know where Lake Stage is?”

“Yeah, I got it. So we’ll head over right after I pick him up. No worries.” I paused and figured it couldn’t hurt asking. “You sure it’s not morning sickness?”

“Not this again,” she grated out. “I’m not fucking pregnant!”

“Easy,” I bitched. “I’m just lookin’ out for the family.”

“No, you’re looking out for the bar by treating me like a baby factory.”

“Is it working?” I asked.

She hung up on me.

Fucking rude.

I sighed and dropped my phone on the mattress, then turned back to Ben, who was handing out one of his wry smirks.

“I’m watching Chip today,” I said.

“Oh, I heard everything. You were sweeter than sugar right up until you started hinting at Clover heirs again.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. He and Sarah had met a single time, for about ten minutes, and it’d been enough for Ben to be Team Sarah on the baby front. Fucking White Sox fans. They always picked the wrong team.

“Anyway. Shouldn’t you go to bed?” I thought it was best to change the topic. “I’m gonna hit the shower and think about what I’m buying for your birthday.”

That was code for, be nice to me because I’m giving you a present tomorrow.

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