Epilogue
SLATER
“ T hose things are pumped?” Frankie pokes my boob, making me laugh.
“It’s the dress.” I tug at the top, trying to cover up some of my girls that are trying to escape. “And I have a real bra on.” I swear for the past five years I’ve been pregnant. Not that I’m mad about it. I’m not complaining that my husband can’t keep his hands off me.
After we had our first, I knew I wanted more, and if I was going to have them, then I wanted them close together. Brooks was more than pleased to help me with this plan. But now the baby shop is closed, I think. No, it is. Maybe.
Holy hell, am I really having this inner fight with myself again? I can't let Brooks know. He will one thousand percent have another bun in the oven if he even gets an inkling that I’m leaning toward having another one.
“It’s not the dress. You’ve always had those sexy curves.” Her comments remind me of what a good friend she is. She’s a girl's girl, always uplifting women. I consider myself lucky to have her in my life. That goes for all of the women I met through Brooks.
I grab the door to Hot Spot, opening it for Frankie and me. We see Luna and Nat right away, waving us over. I’ve been to Hot Spot dozens of times before. It is a bar they frequented for happy hour before any of them found their husbands. In fact, they met them there.
What’s exciting about tonight is that for the first time all of us are at happy hour and not one of us is pregnant. Well, at least the last time I checked. These pregnancies pop up all the time in this group. I guess we will know sooner than later based on what everyone is drinking.
"I already ordered drinks." Luna gestures toward the two cocktails placed in front of the extra chairs that are meant for us. By the looks of it, everyone else also has a cocktail in front of them, which means no babies on the way.
"Thanks." I sit down, pulling out my phone to take a couple of pictures. I see a text from my mom, sending a picture of our little ones. She is always good about keeping us updated when she watches them. I trust her, but it's nice reassurance.
"I need this after today." Frankie downs half the drink.
"Did something happen?" I ask, picking up my drink to take a sip. Another text pops up; this one is from my husband. All the men are at poker night. They hadn't been too excited about going to poker and us going out for happy hour.
Brooks inquired about the origin of the term "happy hour" and questioned my ability to maintain happiness in his absence during this said hour. God, I love that man so much. He’s so over the top but in an adorable way.
“My daughter is a mini me but has the speed of her father,” Frankie exclaims.
“Oh shit.” We all laugh.
“It might drive you crazy now, but she’ll be a force to be reckoned with.” Luna raises her glass to that. If anyone is a force to be reckoned with, it’s Luna. She is always so soft and sweet, very put together. When you learn of her past and upbringing, it tells you so much more about her.
"This is true." Frankie clicks her glass with Luna's.
I check my texts from Brooks inquiring if I'm happy or not. He's really not going to let that go. I pick up my phone and take a picture of myself, sending it to him.
I bite my lip knowing he's going to comment on my dress. That wasn't what I was wearing when I left. Well, the bottom is. I had a cardigan covering up the girls still trying to escape.
It's not but a couple seconds later and he's texting me back with my own picture. Just my cleavage is visible in the first cropped selfie. The next is the same selfie of me again, but it's focused on a table of men behind us. They are all staring our way.
All the ladies' phones start going off at once. "The hell?" Nat snags hers off the table. "Dylan is demanding I send a selfie." She shakes her head.
"Really?" Luna leans over to look at her phone. "Graham wants to know if I'm still in the white dress he dropped me off in."
Frankie's phone is going off too. I see it's Kaden. She merely turns it over, face down, smirking. She gets a kick out of ruffling Kaden’s feathers and knows ignoring him will definitely do it.
“How long is the drive from here to where the guys are playing poker?” Nat asks. Luna’s eyes bounce over to the table behind me, and I know Brooks must have told the others about them in my picture.
"It takes ten minutes to navigate city traffic at this time of day," Frankie answers.
"Unless you're on foot and married to a quarterback who can do the forty-yard dash in under five seconds," Luna adds.
I didn't know she even paid attention to football, but I should have known better.
Luna is thoughtful, and I'm sure she talked to Kaden about it before.
I only remember that he's a quarterback and won some Super Bowls.
"4.57 seconds." Frankie corrects.
"My apologies." Luna laughs.
"What do you mean we have to leave?" We all turn at the sound of a man's voice getting loud. All the men from the table behind us are now standing and arguing with a server and, I think, the bar's manager.
"We're sorry, but you need to leave," the manager tells them.
"What the hell did we even do?" The man throws his hands up, his face getting red. The other men at the table start putting their suit coats on, talking about another bar down the street.
"We have the right to refuse service. If you leave now, your bill will be comped. If you don't leave, we'll have to call the police for trespassing."
They are all pissed, but they leave.
"Did they do that?" I ask. Luna's cheeks turn pink. If anyone could get those men out of this building that quickly, it would be her husband. His family does own half the buildings in this city.
"Six minutes!" Nat chirps. "Did they run or just drive fast?" I follow her line of sight to see all of our husbands walking into the bar. They focus their attention on us. They slow their steps when they see we are watching them.
"Ladies," Graham says with a nod as though they didn’t just run a group of men out of here. "Oh, an open table," he says, acting innocent as he pulls out one of the chairs at the table all of the men vacated. "We can push these together."
Brooks bypasses that table, snags a chair, and sets it down right next to me. "Sweetness." He smiles, leaning in to kiss me. I don't scold him for busting into our girls' night. It's adorable and sweet. How can we be upset when our husbands always want to be with us?
"You purposely ignore me, so I'll do this shit." Kaden plucks Frankie right out of her chair and sits down with her in his lap.
"You're so annoying," she huffs but wiggles in his lap to get comfortable.
“I missed you.” Brooks kisses the shell of my ear. I tilt my head so he can give me a few more.
“Did you win?”
“Yes.” He hooks his foot under my chair, pulling me close to him so that I’m between his open thighs.
“How much?”
“How much?” he repeats.
“How much did you win playing cards?”
“We didn’t play,” Dylan says as he slides a pair of mittens on Nat.
“You said you won.”
“I did win; I’m here with you.” I turn my head to stare into Brooks's eyes. He’s dead serious; it’s not him joking or teasing. Yeah, there is so going to be another baby being made tonight. I glance around the table, watching the girls with their husbands. Everyone is laughing and smiling.
The server comes over, placing two dirty martinis down in front of us. We both hate them, but old habits and fate have us drinking them.
Brooks isn’t the sole winner in this. We both hit the jackpot when it comes to love.