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“Girl, give him some kitty,” Brooke said, dragging a snort out of me. “I’m serious! Lock that man down with some good, old-fashioned loving. Get on your knees until he gets on his. This is a marriage-material kind of man. Wouldn’t complain about your shopping habits because he’s doing it all for you. What’s not to love?”

“He just felt bad for me.”

“And he had a thought. Thenactedon it. That’s hot. If you don’t give him some cat, I might toss mine at him,” she said, grinning at me. “Can I open this box? I wanna see what else he bought.”

We both stood there on the balcony so she could listen for her kids as she tore into the box like a raccoon, using her nails to get the paper tape open.

“More toys for Lainey?” I asked.

“Girl, no. He’s treating you now.”

She placed the box on the ground, reaching inside to pull items out one by one.

There were two silk pajama sets (with matching short robes), bath goodies, a nice pair of flip-flops.

“Girl, these aredesigner,” Brooke said, wiggling the flip-flops in front of my face. “And I’m still not done.”

She wasn’t.

There was also one of those big stainless steel tumblers in a cute gradient pink color, an iced coffee carafe with the perfect dimensions to fit in my tiny fridge, and a three-pack of different coffee flavors.

“If you tell me you told this man that you like flavored iced coffee, I might spontaneously combust out of pure jealousy.”

I had.

He’d remembered.

And, like Brooke said, he’d acted.

I wasn’t exactly surprised. Everything about my time with Coast told me he was a good man. Kind. Generous. Thoughtful.

“God, I’m getting all hot and bothered, and he didn’t get me anything,” Brooke said, piling everything back into the box. “Listen, you want to go jump that man’sbonein thanks, you can leave that baby with me.”

“I’m not going to jump his, or anyone else’s, bones.”

“I saidbonebut I get it. I mean, clearly, we have some bad history with men.”

“Mama,” Soleil called.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I have chips?”

“Yes, baby, have some chips,” she called back. “Dinner is going to be sandwiches, so chip-etizers makes sense,” she added to me. “So, bad history aside, what’s the hang-up?”

“He’s a biker.”

“What I’m hearing is he has a vehicle,” Brooke said, making me laugh. “What? My ex didn’t. Had a tree fall on his during a hurricane. And he was such a baby that he wouldn’t call the insurance company to deal with it, so he just… didn’t have a car anymore.”

“Wow.”

“I know. But what else is on your list?”

“He gets into fights.”

“I’m hearing he would be able and willing to defend you and your baby.”

“He has wild stories about naked pool parties and body shots.”