Page 21 of Ridin' Solo
A growing sense of pride filled my chest. It wasn’t every day you ran across people noble enough to turn down daddy’s influence to make their own way in the world. I would know because I did it too. And everyone had said I was crazy for it.
I nodded, careful to keep my gaze on the hot glue. As painful as it would be to burn myself, I was more worried about looking at her right now and finding myself falling head over heels in love with her. The thing was, I cared about Oakley. I cared about her as my partner and as a woman. If I wasn’t careful, I could find myself falling for her.
Which would be the opposite of what she wanted.
She wanted to advance in the department and make her dad proud. Dating her partner, when department fraternizing was strictly prohibited, would be a blemish on her otherwise sterling reputation. I’d be taking away the one thing she cared about most.
And I liked her too much to do that to her.
I put the glue gun down and stretched my hand out. Her eyebrows went together and a small smile stretched across her lips.
“Friends?” I asked, actually meaning it.
The smile grew as she took my hand with a shake forceful enough to crack bones as only Oakley would do.
“Friends.”
10
Oakley
“Pull that side up, Oak,” Esme said with a hefty side of frustration.
I pulled it up and taped it, hustling to get off the chair before she found something else wrong with where I’d hung the streamers. She should have just hung them herself, which I’d suggested, but she’d pointed to her tight pencil skirt. Not my fault she didn’t dress properly for a baby shower. Who the hell wears a tight black skirt and stilettos to a freaking baby shower? Then again, when was the last time I’d seen Esme in something that could be described as comfortable or casual?
“We need confetti on this table, you guys,” Izzy said smoothly, the quickness of her voice the only indication she was stressed. She rushed back into our parents’ kitchen to grab whatever appetizer she intended to add to the overflowing table of food. The girl could cook, and boy did she take her responsibilities seriously. Everybody would leave the shower with a food baby as big as Amelia’s baby bump.
Esme dusted more glitter and confetti on the food table wherever there was even a millimeter of tablecloth showing. Dad was going to have a fit with the glitter floating around here. The thought of glitter had me eyeing the table in the living room with the games. The gender reveal cannon was looking better than anything I could have done on my own. As much as I hated to admit it, Wyatt had helped me make it look amazing.
“What’s got that dreamy look on your face, sis?” Esme was back by my side, clipboard in hand, crossing off items.
I blinked and started straightening the twenty dolls lined up on the table to have something to do with my hands. No way would I be answering that question. “You don’t think the doll game is creepy? I mean, look at these things.”
Esme glanced up at the dolls and shrugged, already back to her damn checklist. “Too late to change the game now. Just be glad they aren’t Chucky dolls. Let’s put the raffle gift in the center of the table for maximum effect. We want people donating all kinds of diapers for that sucker.”
I shifted some things on the table and prayed the time would fly by quickly. Trying to set up a party under Esme’s commands was trying at best. The girl was type A to a fault.
“Ooh.”
I glanced over at her to see her lifting the bottle of champagne out of the basket. “Who donated this pretty thing?”
I willed my cheeks to stay calm. Blushing in front of Esme would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull. And I’d had enough encounters with bulls recently. “Uh, Wyatt, I think.”
Esme raised an eyebrow with a look in her eyes that made me want to revert to being a little girl and pulling her hair. “Your new partner? Interesting. I may have to introduce myself. A man who buys excellent champagne is worth knowing. If you know what I mean.”
She marched off to check on Izzy and the food situation. I watched her go while glaring at the back of her head. Oh, I knew exactly what she meant and that would happen over my dead body. Esme, the business shark, frequently set her sights on men. The outcome was decided before the guy even knew what was happening. She’d draw them in, have her fun, and then spit them out.
“Hey, darlin’.” Dad came up behind me and kissed the top of my head. “You look beautiful as ever.”
I turned to see him in a button-down shirt—not a uniform, surprisingly—and a pair of perfectly creased black slacks. His hair was combed nicely and his mustache even looked like it had some wax giving it a debonaire shape. Mom had clearly gotten ahold of him with some new style for the party. Amelia had insisted the baby shower be for couples, as she didn’t want to do anything without Titus by her side. It was both admirable and sickening.
“Hey, Dad,” I murmured, giving him a hug and breathing in the familiar scent that said home. “Try not to look stunned at me in a dress, huh?”
He chuckled. “Guess we both got gussied up by the ladies in our lives.”
I loved that he and I had this connection. Yeah, I was a girl, but he treated me as if I was his buddy. Like it was him and me against the other girls, which included Mom.
I smoothed my hands down the light blue dress, feeling a tad uncomfortable with all the breeze on my legs. The skirt flowed around me nicely when I moved, and even though it hit just above my knees, I still felt self-conscious in it. While the little cap sleeves were feminine and gorgeous, and the girls had urged me to buy it, it just didn’t feel like me. Izzy had curled my hair too, pinning back a section when I’d complained that it was in my face and threatened to just put it in a bun.
