Page 139 of Collect the Pieces

Rooster snorts on the other end. “I take it you’re at Margot’s?”

“Where else?”

“Well, I just got off the phone with Z.”

I flick my gaze to the clock on the kitchen wall. “Bet helovedyou calling in the middle of the night about Stella.”

“Oh, yeah. He wasecstatic,” Rooster says, dragging out the words. “Pretty sure he’s baking me a fucking cake as we speak.”

I chuckle at the thought of Z doing anything in the kitchen.

“But he never let me give him the details,” Rooster says. “We need you down here tomorrow afternoon for church.”

“I figured.”

“We need to discuss at the table, and we don’t need to involve Upstate,” he says. “Rock’s pretty sick of Stella.”

“It’s not their action, either.”

“Exactly.” He sighs. “Sorry, I know it’s a longer ride for you.”

“It’s not a problem, brother. I’ll probably stop by the house first to grab some clothes and my bike.”

“All right. Good.” He hesitates. “She didn’t call you, did she?”

“Who? Stella? I don’t think so.” I pull my phone away from my ear and scroll through my calls. “No.”

“Good.” He growls into the phone. “I spent thirty fucking minutes on the phone with her, listening to her lecture me about the ‘merits of her proposal,’” he finishes in a pretty decent imitation of Stella’s snotty voice.

“Z should bake you a cake for listening to that.”

“Heh. Yeah.”

We plan a time to meet at the house, then end the call.

I check the rest of my messages, take care of a few issues, then close my laptop. “Tomorrow’s problem.”

“Murrrp.” Gretel rubs her head against my chest.

I set her on the floor and head into the bedroom. Margot’s still sleeping on her side, her breath steady and even. I strip down to my shorts again and slide into bed, careful not to disturb her.

Margot

“You feel better this morning?” Jigsaw asks as soon as I walk out of the bedroom the next morning.

“I do. Thank you.” I hold the kitty heating pad up. “I think she stayed warm for longer than thirty minutes.”

“Good.” He closes his laptop and shifts off the stool.

My mouth goes dry as he prowls closer in those low-slung black sweatpants and no shirt. I force my gaze up to his face.

A half smirk tilts his lips as if he caught me admiring him.

“Uh, did you sleep?” Was he afraid to sleep in bed with me because I have my period?No.He’d been so kind and gentle last night, not disgusted.

“I did. Guess that means I didn’t wake you.”

“No.” I yawn and stretch.

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