Page 34 of Headstrong Like Us
“We’re still waiting on the samples,” Jane tells us while Thatcher slides next to her and kisses her temple. She blushes.
I try not to laugh when she checks him out and smooths her lips together. It’s impressive that he can tongue-tie a Cobalt without saying a word, especially when the initial honeymoon stage has ended. They’re very engaged and have already dealt with rocky relationship terrain. And came out stronger.
Maximoff curves his arm around my shoulders. “Jane has switched to Team New York.”
“Really, Cobalt?”
She sits up straighter. “Charlie can be incredibly persuasive when he wants to be.”
I roll my eyes. “He texted youplease cometoo?”
“Yes, and there were a few rentals that looked promising.”
Thatcher watches the entrance. “We should keep thinking this over before we take a vote again.”
“Agreed,” Jane nods.
“But you’re leaning towards New York?” I ask, just to be sure.
“Oui.”
Maximoff will likely also skew that direction in time too. I’m feeling too protective. This is a huge change in their lives, and I’d rather figure out why Charlie wants them there before the choice is made.
A pastry chef struts out of the kitchen with an assortment of cake slices. She spreads them on the table: banana, vanilla, pecan, carrot.
Jane opens up her binder to take notes. “You can pick as many as you want, depending on how many layers you’d like.”
“I—” Maximoff cuts himself off as my phone rings loudly. I slip my cell from my pocket and quickly scan the screen.
Shit.
Loren Hale is calling me.
I don’t know why. But if Maximoff’s dad is callingmeand not his son, then there’s a chance I could’ve found my way onto his shit list again. I wrack my brain, wondering if I left a dirty dish out or misplaced one of his treasured comics.
Maximoff looks puzzled at the name on the screen. “Answer it.”
I’m already clicking into the call, and Maximoff leans over to Jane, filling her in. I decide not to put the call on speakerphone, just in case Lo is about to give me the third-degree.
“This is Farrow,” I answer.
“Hey, Farrow. Is Moffy busy?” Lo asks hurriedly like he’s almost out of breath.
I frown, my gaze cast on the thirty or forty-plus plates of wedding cake. He could’ve just called Maximoff, but he must know if he asked that same question to his son, he’d receive a white lie 9 times out of 10.
Maximoff will dropanythingand everything for his family, and I figure Lo doesn’t want him dropping shit for him.
Now I actually wish he was calling to grill me. Because this is worse.
I’m starting to really believe that somethingprolongedis bothering Lo and Lily. And the rumors about Luna being a sex addict just don’t seem to hold enough weight to push them there.
I should definitely tell Loren Hale that we’re taste-testing wedding cake.
I should do that.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
