Page 9 of The Best Friend Problem
“I’ve got it narrowed down to ten, and once I make my final pick, the doctor will set up an appointment for insemination based around my ovulation.”
“Sounds practical.” Lilly nodded.
“Sounds boring,” Mo argued. “Babies are cool and all, but half the fun is making them. If you ask me, you’re missing the good stuff, Pru.”
“She wasn’t asking you.” Lilly pointed a finger. “She was informing us of her very well thought out and carefully planned decision. And we support her fully.”
“Of course we do. To Pru, the best future mommy ever!”
Mo raised her mug; Lilly followed suit. Emotions clogged her throat, but Pru managed to raise hers as well.
“To adding another member to the Terrific Trio.”
Guess they’d have to go by “Fantastic Foursome” if everything worked out as planned. Oh, she hoped everything worked out. She had a job she loved, amazingly supportive friends, and she was beginning her journey to motherhood. It might be slightly unconventional, but it was her plan, and she liked it.
Who needed a man when you had such wonderful friends at your side?
Chapter Three
“Ward, I swear to God if you don’t get your ass over here and clean your dishes, I am going to shave your eyebrows in the middle of the night again!”
Finn laughed, reaching across the table to grab a card from the stack in the middle. While firefighting could be an intense, heart-pounding job when they were on a call, most of their time was spent doing rig checks, working out, and sitting around waiting for a call. Basically, he got to hang out with his friends all day. Pretty sweet job if you asked him.
Since their schedule at Denver Fire consisted of twenty-four hours on and forty-eight off, they tended to bond more than normal coworkers. That’s what happened when you spent half your time living with people and responding to calls, some of them heartbreaking. To Finn, his fellow firefighters were closer than friends. They were his second family. And like all families, they loved to give each other shit.
“You better do what she says, dude. Díaz will do it.”
Ward scowled, reaching for another card after Finn discarded. “I know. I remember the painful four months it took to grow my damn brows back the last time. My little sister tried to teach me to draw them on, but they always looked like dying caterpillars on my forehead.”
“You did look pretty ridiculous,” Turner agreed, grabbing a card from the deck.
The slight curve of his fellow firefighter’s lips let Finn know Turner had pulled the card he needed. Five years of playing poker together, and the man still could not hide his tell.
“Five seconds, Ward!”
Ward threw his cards down, rising from his chair. “All right, all right. I’m coming.”
“Don’t worry about your hand.” Díaz grinned as she took his vacated seat. “I’ll play for you.”
“If you make me lose, I’m shaving your eyebrows.”
Díaz snorted. “Come at me with a razor and see what happens.”
Wouldn’t happen. And not just because Díaz could kick any of their asses—the woman was crazy strong and sneaky—she always won whenever the crew sparred during morning workouts—but also because Ward was the worst poker player in the firehouse. Poor guy’s tell could be seen from space.
“Raise or call?” Finn asked once Díaz glanced at Ward’s abandoned hand.
“Raise.”
She tossed a few chips in the middle pile. Turner eagerly upped the ante. Finn folded. Like that old song his dad used to sing, he knew when to hold ’em and when to fold ’em.
Bruiser sat up from her doggy bed in the corner of the station kitchen and started furiously barking. They didn’t have an official firehouse dog, but since he’d adopted Bruiser, the little Yorkie mix had been the unofficial mascot. Everyone loved her, and with Finn living in a tiny studio apartment—which sat unoccupied during his twenty-four-hour shifts—he brought her along to the firehouse.
“What is it, Bru, baby?”
The pup rushed over to him, sniffing his pocket. Leaning down, he stroked the little furball behind one floppy ear. As he reached in to pick her up, the tiny dog shoved her nose into his crotch.
“You ate the last sausage I had, you horker.” His dog would eat until she couldn’t move and then try to sneak one more treat. He had no idea where the little dog put it all. When she continued to sniff, he lifted her to his chest. “What is it, girl?”
