Page 27 of Deja New
“Hey!” she snapped, but let herself get grabbed. “You’re not off the hook, you scofflaw bastard.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He gave up on the hug attempt and patted her stiff shoulders instead. “You’re totally right, my first instinct after leaving a prison should not be to rack up misdemeanors.”
“That’s all I was saying.”
“Because things are different now.”
“That’s all I was saying, too!”
“I’m agreeing with you.”
“And apologizing.”
“And apologizing,” he soothed.
“Because you were totally in the wrong.”
“One hundred percent.”
“And this isn’t about hormones!”
“Nope.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“It’s great you two made up,” Jack said, “but this is boring now.”
Archer by now had sort of snuck an arm around Leah’s shoulders in a stealth side hug, which didn’t prevent him from frowning at the youngest Drake. “Why aren’t you making frosting right now? Those brownies are brazenly naked. C’mon, Leah, let’s lay—”
“Lie,” she corrected.
“—ourselves down and marvel at your lack of gas.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Irrelevant!”
Angela watched them go, not a little jealous. Not about the baby—there wasn’t a single detail about pregnancy that didn’t sound ghastly and she was in no hurry to experience any of it. But she was definitely envious of Archer’s connection with Leah. They’d fallen in love while protecting each other. They had taken life, then made it. Made a person. Well, they were working on a person. They were workshopping a person. And yes, it was overly simple but no less true: Things were different now.
“So I can’t,” she finished aloud.
She heard twin clicks and saw Jack was fitting the beaters into his hand mixer. “Yeah, figured you’d see it that way.”
“What way? I didn’t let any details drop.”
“Didn’t have to, because you were thinking the same thing I was. You don’t want another generation of Drakes growing up in ICC visitation.”
“Damn right I don’t.”
“Not that we did because Uncle Dennis usually wouldn’t let us visit, but you get what I mean.”
“Yes.”
“So you’re still in.”
“Yes.”
“And we’re all still in.” He thumbed the power button and started whirring cocoa powder, powdered sugar, and vanilla together in the bowl.
“Yes!” she shouted over the mixer. “And you are way too young to have that much insight into people!”
“And I barely put any effort into it!” he hollered back. “Think aboutthat!”
“I can’t! It’ll keep me up at night!”
Newly energized, and not yelling over the hand mixer, Angela headed for her laptop. There had to be something there. Or something that was already there would lead in a new direction. If not at first glance, maybe later tonight. Or later this week. Either way, her self-indulgent daydream was over, and it was past time to get back to work.
She’d come back later for the bowl.
