Page 53 of This Time Around

“Gross, where the hell are your manners?” I asked.

“It was that or choke to death,” she said defensively wiping her mouth with the towel Andy handed to her. “I think I made the best choice.”

“Not so sure I agree,” Memphis said. He had coffee splattered all over his face and T-shirt.

“Oh no, Memphis,” Maegan said, rounding the table to wipe him up. “I’m so sorry.” Maegan eased his glasses off his face and cleaned them before setting them on the table.

“Don’t give me a spit bath,” he teased when she started to wipe off his face.

“I figure you got enough of my saliva on you for one day,” Maegan replied.

“Memphis, grab yourself a clean shirt from my bedroom and toss that in the laundry room on your way back. I have to do laundry in a bit anyway.”

I checked my hash browns, and they were a perfect, crispy golden brown. I put them in the warming drawer with the cooked bacon and checked to see how my biscuits looked.

“Mmmmm. This time I’m not moaning about your ass,” Andy whispered in my left ear. “Those look perfect.”

“Just a few minutes longer,” I told him. “Just enough time to make the eggs.”

“Scrambled?”

“Fried,” I answered. “Do you still like yours fried hard?”

“Yep, no runny yolk,” Andy replied adamantly. “Cook them to death.”

“Got it.” I had just reached for the carton of eggs when my phone rang. I saw it was my mom and just couldn’t send it to voicemail. “Good morning, Mama Miracle.”

“Milo, make sure you bring Andy to dinner.”

“I will ask him if he’d like to join us,” I replied.

“What’s she fixing?” Andy asked. I held the phone up so he could hear her.

“Braised short ribs in a wine sauce, herbed potatoes and carrots, and homemade bread,” my mom said.

“I’ll be there, Jackie. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Peach cobbler for dessert with vanilla bean ice cream,” she said just before I pulled the phone back. Andy waggled his brows.

“Mom, he already said he was coming to dinner.”

“See you later, love. Make sure Memphis knows he’s invited also.”

“He knows,” I assured her.

“I think I met someone that Memphis might like,” she told me.

“Does he have tattoos?” I asked.

“Um, not that I know of,” Mom said.

“How about piercings?”

“Milo, I didn’t ask these things. He wore a leather jacket and looked like a ‘bad boy.’ I didn’t ask a total stranger if he had tats, piercings, or if he wore briefs, boxers, or went commando. Let Memphis discover some things on his own.”

“Don’t forget jock straps.”

“Excuse me?” I could picture her brows lifting.