Page 29 of Stick to the Deal (Friendship Springs Romance #3)

Down the Rabbit Hole

I clean up the bottles and take-away containers, mulling over the surprising evening. I like them. To be welcomed so wholly to their group based on Nic’s stamp of approval is amazing.

The door opens with a thud. Nic stands in the entrance, swatting away an amused David who is following closely, hands out as if she’s about to fall.

As she takes two wobbly steps inside, I understand why. “Hands off, soldier boy, I’m perfectly fine.”

I meet her in the entryway. She stumbles into my side, but doesn’t resist my steadying arm. In fact, she flashes a drunken smile. “You’re proper drunk, aren’t you?”

“Pssh.” She tries to wave her hand but loses her balance. “It was only two wines.”

My eyebrows pinch in confusion. I’ve seen Nic drink, but never drunk. “Two glasses of wine got you this drunk?”

“It was bottles.” David shakes his head. “If you got this one, I’ll get back to that one.” He jerks his thumb to where Anna is leaning against the hall, mumbling to a sconce.

“Is girls’ night always like this?”

“Nope,” Nic answers, “they were being douchecocks. It was the damn Spanish Inquisition, and I needed ammo. ”

David and I share a look and a shrug, before he lifts his fiancée up and throws her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. It sounds like she’s muttering about ghost peppers as they disappear to the elevator.

“Come on, Princess. Off to bed you go.”

She doesn’t fight me as I lead her to the bedroom. She sits on the edge of the mattress and flops back, arms spread wide.

“Don’t fall asleep yet. You still need to get undressed.” I kneel as Nic groans, tossing around. I reach for her foot and smile when I see she’s wearing the socks I got her.

A scrap of cloth hits me in the head. I peel it off my face, holding it out. It’s Nic’s bra. My eyes dart to her and she’s still fully covered in her T-shirt. How the hell did she wriggle out of that contraption while laying on the bed?

Tossing the garment aside, I return my attention to her feet. As the first fuzzy length clears her heel, she sits up. Eyes wide. “No, not my socks. I like my socks.”

I hold in a chuckle. “You don’t need the socks in bed, Princess.”

“Sure I do! Sometimes my toes touch my other leg and wake me up. They’re fucking icicles, Reginald!”

“Well, when I’m here, you can thaw the icicles on my legs.”

“Mmmm, ‘kay.” She still looks unconvinced, but slips under the sheets that I pull back for her.

I turn off the lights and climb into the massive bed next to her. Only debating for a minute, I scoot my pillow closer and reach my foot out to check her temperature.

She’s already mostly asleep, but with a stuttering breath, she rolls towards me. “This is nice,” she murmurs.

It certainly is.

I slide my arm under her head in invitation, and she immediately burrows closer to my warm body. Before Nic, I wouldn’t have imagined I was a cuddler, but with each night of her in my arms, that dark hole in my chest closes bit by bit. Maybe someday, it can fully heal.

T he toaster bings as the bedroom door opens.

Nic stumbles out, looking adorably mussed in last night’s shirt and her short hair standing up.

I pour a cup of coffee and add her almond creamer exactly the way she likes.

It joins the plated toast on the kitchen island.

Nic is a bit of a beast on typical mornings, even without two bottles of wine.

Nic grunts as she sits on the stool. Her fingers grip the mug like it’s a magic elixir to cure her hangover. Eh, maybe it is.

“Morning.” Another grunt. “I wasn’t sure where the aspirin was. Shower should help, then we better head over to Pop.”

A deep V appears between her brows. “What? Why are we doing that?”

“The walls aren’t going to paint themselves.”

“How do you even know about that?”

“David mentioned it last night.”

“Oh.” She hunches over her drink. A determined pout crosses her face. She throws back the rest of her coffee and then sets the mug down with a clatter. “Fine, I’ll go hop in the shower. But Anna better have a hangover breakfast ready at the restaurant!”

I chuckle as she stomps off to her bedroom.

With nothing better to do, I eat the toast and tidy up the neat kitchen.

Last night was fun, but Nic’s girlfriends won’t have as warm a welcome.

If Colin and David’s stories are to be believed, the girls are fiercely protective of each other.

We may already be married, but this feels like the ‘meet the family’ moment.

The ride to Friendship Springs is quiet.

I rely on GPS to guide me as Nic dozes in her seat.

We leave the highway behind and drive through narrow roads with angled parking on both sides.

Quaint buildings with large windows line the streets boasting cafes, boutiques, and services.

Young families push strollers while sipping coffee.

Old men play chess at bistro tables. Everything is colorful and cheerful.

“You’ve arrived at your destination,” the electronic voices says, breaking the peaceful silence.

As Nic rouses, I pull into a spot out front and study the building. It’s very much like it’s neighbors, exposed brick with white trimmed, tinted glass. Above the door hangs an unlit neon sign shaped like a champagne bottle with overflowing bubbles and the word “POP”. I’m utterly charmed.

I follow Nic out of the car, instead of the double doors in front of us, she keeps walking down the sidewalk to a papered up entrance next door.

Inside, is an open area clearly under construction—the new event space.

Round tables stack in the middle of the floor.

Two women sit at the single table set up—the blond from last night, and a brunette holding Nora. This must be Colin’s wife, Brianna.

Nic collapses into an empty seat, folding herself onto the table with a moan. “More coffee. Breakfast. Now.”

It’s a struggle not to chuckle as I pat her back.

The two women eye me. Anna is smirking, but Brianna’s dark blue eyes hold an intelligent spark as she studies me.

Looks like I’m going to have to make my own introductions.

“Hello. Anna and I met briefly last night, but you must be Brianna. I’ve heard a lot about you.

” I extend my hand, she takes it in her smaller one with a surprisingly firm grip.

“And you must be Reginald. I wish I could say the same.”

“Most people call me Bancroft. There’s honestly not much to tell, I’m afraid. Aristocrats are only interesting in books or movies.”

“So it’s not all galas and nights at the opera?”

“There’s a lot of that, especially if my mother has a say.

Never developed much of a taste for them myself.

” I look down at my disgruntled wife, currently blowing her hair out of her face in loud raspberries.

Taking pity on her, I remove the offending piece and receive another grunt in thanks.

“Though the ballet does have its appeal.”

“Food,” Nic groans.

“Breakfast is in the kitchen, suga’.” Anna chuckles. “Go on and help yourself.”

Nic grunts. “Too tired. Why the fuck are you so chipper?”

“Some of us didn’t drink two bottles of wine.”

“Goddamn it, Daisy-Mae, it’s too early for your shit.” Nic makes a show of dramatically pushing her hands against the table like the weight of the world is on her shoulders.

Giving in to the growing chuckle, I squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll go make you a plate.” I turn to Anna. “Is David in the kitchen?”

She shakes her head, her brows raising in surprise. “No, he’s still out picking up the paint with Colin. Asher and Johnson are in there, though.”

I push down the disappointment. The idea of meeting more people is overwhelming, but both Colin and David spoke highly of these two.

The double doors open into a tidy industrial kitchen with gleaming countertops and stainless steel appliances.

Two men stand in an aisle in front of a spread of hearty breakfast foods.

French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits, gravy, and…

fried chicken?…laid out like a monstrous feast .

The blond man spots me first. He’s a little taller, an obvious gym fanatic.

With his striking blue eyes and hair pulled up into a bun on his head, he resembles a modern Viking.

He hands me an empty plate as I approach.

“You must be the husband. Colin mentioned you’d be joining us. I’m Asher, this is Johnson.”

The other man nods at me. He’s more lanky, dark hair with a clean-shaven square jaw and dimpled chin. “Hey, man, good to meet ya.”

“Same, call me Bancroft.” I fill a plate for Nic, then take a second for myself. “How did you two get pulled into this? Nic’s only talked about Bree and Anna. Is there a fourth one I should know about?”

“Hell no. The three of them are trouble enough.” Asher laughs. “If they pull out a bottle of Fireball, run. I’m the head bartender here.”

“Don’t forget about being part owner.” Johnson waggles his eyebrows as he chomps on a piece of crispy bacon.

“Do you work here too?” I ask him. These people’s lives are more complicated than a Greek tragedy. My head spins, trying to keep it all straight.

“Bree is my boss, but at an engineering firm nearby. Colin and I are friends, and he introduced me to this asshole.”

Oh! It suddenly makes sense. “Oh, so how long have you two been together?”

They both laugh. “Just friends,” Asher says. “He’s too pretty for me. My ego couldn’t handle it.”

“Come now, Ash. Don’t be so hard on yourself—you’re totally in my league.” His cheeks crease as he turns to me. “We’re the token bachelors around here. We buddy up so we don’t feel left out. Well, us and David’s business partner, Ronnie. Where is he, anyway?”

Asher shrugs and grabs a flaky biscuit. “Dunno. He told David he was busy. So how’s married life?”

Before I can answer, the double doors fly open as Nic storms through. “I see you met Tweedledee and Tweedledumb.” She slides up beside me.

“Gee, Nic, which one of us is which?” Asher quips.

“She’s just hungover. Here, I made you a plate.”

Her eyes light up as I hand it over. “You are forgiven.” Arms protectively holding the food, she turns and plants a loud kiss on my lips, then shoves a sausage link into her mouth with a happy sigh.

Her hips regain a bit of their swagger as she heads back to the event space. “Coffee, please, and make it Irish!”

“Only if I can be Tweedledee,” Asher calls back .

Nic holds a piece of bacon aloft as her only acknowledgement of Asher’s statement. I like this side of Nic. Here in Friendship Springs, she is more relaxed. Yeah, she’s a cranky, hungover mess this morning, but she’s more genuine than I’ve seen her. Freer. More like when it’s only the two of us.