Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
When she saw Harold, she lost it all over again.
Sam started laughing with her.
Soon both were howling so loud that for a second I blanked on how to handle this situation. I looked to my brother, but he was no help. He’d abandoned the pizza and was out of his chair, his knees almost touching the ground as he wiped a hand over his face. He couldn’t stop laughing.
Hearing those three, Quincey looked around and began trying to hold her laughter in.
She failed.
Logan looked over at me, trying to get ahold of himself. “Nate called it,” he said.
I had no idea how to wrangle these women when they decided to indulge and have a good time. Though, I was glad this was the problem I got. Back on the team, other players’s wives would sometimes get drunk. Loneliness, sadness, maybe basic selfishness came out. They’d want attention so they’d do what they needed to get it. Flirting with other men. Having affairs. It happened. It was more common than some of the guys wanted to admit. I was aware some of those same husbands were also cheating, so what came first? The chicken or the egg. It was that same sort of question. Or maybe it was that like attracted like.
Not my wife. Not her friends.
They got drunk and came back impersonating dinosaurs and trying to bribe a giant turtle to cuddle up for the night. I chuckled. I had no idea why Sam chose me, but I would never stop thanking the stars for her.
I pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She blinked a few times, and a soft, gooey look melted over her. “Oh, husband. I love you too.” She reached up, trying to cup my face. Her hand landed over my nose, and she pressed a kiss to my earlobe, sighing into it. “Take me to bed, husband. Fuck me good. I promise I won’t fall asleep. I’ll hold my legs up for you.”
Logan lost it all over again, wiping tears from his face. “That’s just what every husband wants to hear. ‘I promise I won’t fall asleep’—this time.”
“Oh!” We all turned to Heather. “My husband and child aren’t here. They went home?”
Sam scrambled out of my hold. I didn’t trust her. I didn’t know what she would do. She might go to Heather or start keeping pace with the fucking turtle to ‘motivate him.’
Also I enjoyed feeling her in my arms so I pulled her back.
She struggled until I slid a hand into her pants pocket, finding a hole and moving my finger over her panties. She melted back into me. “Oh,” she breathed.
Heather was trying to make sense of her phone. “Wait. What happened? Natessia and Crew are here?”
I nodded. “I checked on them, both are sleeping. Max wanted to go to your place. Things were tense when we found them. There was an altercation.”
“An altercation?” She straightened. All the laughter melted away.
“Everyone’s fine. Max is fine. I think…” I didn’t want to throw Maddy under the bus.
“He and Mads had a little disagreement,” Logan explained. “You know how they are. They’ll be fine tomorrow, but he needed a breather for the night. Probably just wanted to clear his head. Sleep in his own bed. That sort of thing.”
She nodded, but still seemed worried. “I should…” She looked up the stairs, toward where her kids were resting.
“I can give you a ride home,” Logan told her. “Nat and Crew will be fine. We’ll bring them to the church tomorrow. Feed ’em even.” He winked, standing and reaching for his keys.
“No.” I shook my head at Heather and Logan. “I’ll drive her.”
“Are you sure?” Logan’s gaze went to Samantha.
Quincey was bringing that damn turtle past us, and I knew my wife was going to forget what was happening and would want to join the fun. Wanting to avoid all of that, I hoisted Sam up and over my shoulder.
She gasped. “Mason!”
I spoke over her to Logan. “Yes, I’m sure.” I smacked her on the ass. “I’m bringing this one with me.”
“Ah—Mason!”
I ignored her, turning to Heather. “You ready to roll out? Need the bathroom or anything?”
Heather looked a little dazed. “No. I’m good.”
Logan trailed after us. “What do you want me to do with this one?” He indicated Quincey over his shoulder with his thumb. She and Harold were moving past the entryway.
I shook my head. “Not my wife. Not my problem.”
12
MASON
Heather asked a few questions on the car ride to her place, but we didn’t really get into it. When I pulled up to their house, their front door opened. Channing came out, shirtless and wearing sweatpants. He ran a hand through his hair before scratching down his chest, yawning.
“Oh God.” Heather reached for the door handle. She swallowed. “He waited up for me. That’s not good.”