Page 4 of No One Wants That (Blitzen Bay)

BUTCH

“What do you mean you want me to go with you?”

Millie and Raine are sitting across from me on the patio sipping dirty martinis. They’re about three drinks in which is usually when they start getting stupid. I should have known when they started whispering that I was in for it again.

“Just what we said,” Millie coos at me. She only uses that tone as a last resort when she’s trying to get me to do something. “We want you to come with us tomorrow. You have to go.”

I raise my head off the lounge chair and glare at them over my sunglasses. In my twenty years as a Navy SEAL, this look alone made grown men put down their weapons and drop to their knees. It’s highly effective, but unfortunately Millie and Raine have never been scared of it. They know I wouldn’t hurt a hair on their heads and that I’d kill anyone who tried.

“I’m not going on your stupid love fest in the mountains,” I say, snarling. “That’s been settled for months.”

They’re leaving tomorrow with Millie’s husband, Mason, and Raine’s boyfriend, Alex, to head up to some little resort town in the San Bernardino mountains. They’ve been talking about it for six months. I’ve made it clear at least twenty times that I have no interest in going.

“Nothing’s settled,” Millie says, tilting her head and pursing her lips into a pout. “It won’t be as much fun if you don’t go.”

“That’s stating the obvious. And don’t give me that sexy look. That bullshit doesn’t work on a guy unless you’re sleeping with him.”

Raine tilts her head against Millie’s and gives me the same look. “Ple-e-e-ease,” she whines.

“You’re not sleeping with me either, Raine,” I say, pointing at her. “Save that look for Alex.”

“Speaking of Alex,” Raine says, taking a slow sip of her martini, “he’ll be sad if you’re not there. You know how much he likes to hang out with you.”

“Seriously? That’s your strongest argument?” I lay my head back down and close my eyes. “I told you I’m not going to be a third wheel. I get too much of the happy-couple bullshit down here. I don’t need to drive two hours up into the mountains to get more of it.”

“Well technically,” Millie says, “you’d be the fifth wheel.”

“That’s not making your argument any stronger, Millicent.”

I hear more loud whispering and then the quick clapping of their flip flops coming toward me. I open my eyes as I feel them sit down on either side of me. They each take one of my hands.

“Maybe take the Patti woman from Starbucks,” Millie says, pulling off my sunglasses and putting them on herself. “Did you ever go out with her again?”

“One time was plenty.”

“She’s still hurt that you didn’t call her,” Raine says, squeezing my hand. “She talks about you every time I go in there. She had a good time.”

“Everyone has a good time with me, but it doesn’t always work both ways.” I pause for a second. “I mean, she’s okay, but she’s way too nice. I’d run all over her in a relationship. It would be boring as hell for me, and it wouldn’t be at all fair to her.”

“What’s going on here?” I look over to see Mason walking out of the house, holding his and Millie’s son, Mo.

“They’re trying one more full-court press to get me to go on your trip tomorrow,” I say, holding up my hands that are still firmly in their grasps, “complete with hand holding, pouting, and whining.”

“Buh,” Mo says, his chubby, little face smiling as he points at me. That’s the best he can do with my name right now.

I jerk my hands free as Mason hands Mo down to me.

“Get him to sleep and I’ll take care of them.” Mason lifts Millie and Raine around their waists—one in each arm—and carries them back to the couch. He points at them. “Stay. And quit bothering him. He’d be a bachelor on a couples’ trip. No one wants that.”

As I polish off my beer, Mo tries to grab it.

“Dink,” he says. I pull it away from him. “Dink!”

“Yes, Mo-Mo, that’s right. Beer is delicious to drink.” I kiss the top of his head as I put the beer can on the table out of his reach.

“Dink!” He stretches his little arms out as far as he can.

“Damn. He’s likes beer almost as much as I do.” I turn the can over to show him it’s dry. “Sorry, brother. Uncle Butch finished this one.”

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