Page 120 of Waiting on You

“Thanks, Paulie,” Bryce said with a warm smile. “You rock, girl!”

“Bryce, get out.” Ronnie turned to Paulie. “You. No more gallivanting with this joker. Understand?”

“Dad,” Paulie said, “I’m thirty-one years old.”

“Not with this goofball, you’re not.”

Lucas scrubbed a hand over his face to hide a smile.

Bryce looked confused. “Dude—”

Ronnie’s head snapped around to glare at Bryce. “I am not adude. Do I look like a cowboy? Because I’m not. You are forbidden to see my daughter.” He turned to Paulie. “You want a husband? I’ll find you a husband. Dmitri’s been working for me for years.” He glanced at Bryce. “He’s in charge of slaughtering. You get my meaning, pal? Paulie, if you want to get married, Dmitri will marry you.”

“Whoa,” Bryce said. “No one’s talking marriage, Mr. P. It’s not like that.” He glanced at Paulie. “I have a girlfriend.”

Oh, shit. Lucas closed his eyes.

“What?” Colleen blurted. “No, you don’t.”

“Sure I do,” Bryce said. “That chick from the bridal store? The bride? She left her fiancé, and we’ve been dating. She’s totally hot.”

“Bryce...” Lucas sighed.

Poor Paulie. Her hands went over her mouth, then dropped. She turned stiffly and walked out of the room, but as she reached the stairs, she bolted, her face twisted with crying.

Damn it, Bryce,Lucas thought.Just once, it’d be nice if you could get it right.

“Uh-oh,” Bryce said. “Well, shit. I feel bad now.”

“Out,” Ronnie said.

Lucas turned to Colleen. “Happy?”

“Oh, bite me,” she said, gnawing on her thumbnail. “Don’t even start.”

He looked at her a minute. “I’ll call you.”

She glared at him. “Okay. If you don’t, beware. I’ll spit in your beer again.”

Again.

That was his girl.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“IT’SNOTYOURfault,” Paulie said, tears leaking out of her eyes. “I never had a chance with him. At least we got to hang out a little, though.” She took a shuddering breath and reached for the Chicken King bucket. Rufus, who hated when people cried, gave a moan of sympathy (and chicken-lust) from where he lay with Paulie’s pug and two of her cats.

“Paulie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Colleen patted her friend’s calf. “I talked to Gwen, and apparently she fired him his second day.”

“It’s okay. Really.” She smiled, then choked a little, then resumed eating. Hey. comfort eating. No judgment from Colleen, that was for sure.

It was the day after the party; the Chicken King had banned Colleen from his princess’s room the night before, though Colleen had been up until 2:00 a.m. talking to her on the phone. This morning, Mr. Petrosinsky had barely let her in, and Colleen couldn’t blame him.

“You want a wing?” Paulie asked thickly. “It’s Haitian JooJoo Spice, deep fried twice for deliciousness.”

“No thanks.” It was nine o’clock in the morning. The chicken did smell good, though. Rufus agreed, licking his scruffy chops. He put his head on Paulie’s shin and gave her his best “they’re going to gas me in an hour” look. As usual, it worked; Paulie gave him a chunk of chicken, which he inhaled.

“Paulie...” Colleen paused. “Maybe Bryce isn’t good enough for you. Have you thought of that?”

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