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“Are you feeling nauseous?” Paisley asks.
Caleb scowls. “She’s always feeling nauseous. We should have stayed home.”
Maya glares at him. “I’m pregnant. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”
He sighs. “It’s hard to watch the person I can’t live without throw up multiple times a day.”
Maya softens. “It’ll get better in the second trimester.”
“In the meantime.” Paisley hands her a candy. “Ginger will help.”
Maya pops the candy in her mouth. “Thanks.”
“I’ll take one,” Chloe says.
“Is there something you need to tell me, Wildcat?” Lucas asks.
She pats his chest. “I’m not pregnant. But I want to try ginger candy for nausea due to a hangover.”
“Are you planning on having a hangover?”
She shrugs. “I don’t plan on them. They just happen. It’s inexplicable.”
He nods to the whiskey. “Hard to figure out why you have hangovers.”
Chloe lifts the bottle into the air. “Who’s in for shots?”
Nova raises her hand. “I am.”
Hudson growls, “Sunshine.”
She shoves her palm in his face. “Don’t you dare sunshine me. I pumped all day today so I could drink tonight.”
“Did you mark the breast milk this time?”
“Stop being a baby. You’re not going to die because you drank some of my breast milk.”
Sophia barks out a laugh. “I need to hear this story.”
The limo comes to a stop in front of the entrance toHideaway Haven Resort.
“Did you sponsor the party?” I ask Hudson as we exit the limo since he owns the resort.
He grunts in response.
“Grunting is a yes by the way,” Nova says.
I grasp Paisley’s hand. “In case I forgot to tell you, you look beautiful tonight.”
Her cheeks flush. “Thank you.”
I squeeze her hand. “Is everyone ready?” I ask the group before leading them inside the resort and to the ballroom.
The ballroom is decorated in true Smuggler’s Hideaway style. The tables are covered in shimmering blue, teal, and iridescent tablecloths to mimic ocean waves. Pearls, driftwood, and seashells serve as centerpieces. Old whiskey barrels, mini wooden crates filled with vintage-style rum bottles, and antique lanterns are scattered around the room. Nautical fishing nets have been draped over the ceiling and intertwined with twinkle lights.
“The mayor is making a beeline toward us. I’m getting a drink.” Flynn hurries away.
“You don’t have to be afraid of her. She doesn’t actually want to be in a polyamorous relationship with you. She’s teasing you,” Sophia shouts as she chases him.