Page 12 of Never and Always
“If you say so.”
Damn, why did I like that uppity tone so much? Those sharp, annoyed glances of hers shouldn’t turn me on.
My watch beeped. “I’ve got to run, big city. I’m finishing early today.”
She lifted her eyebrow. “You’re finishing early?”
“I have dinner plans.” I winked at her.
A strange look crossed her face. “A date?”
“Something like that. See you tomorrow, partner.”
“Partner?” She called out as I strode out of the great room. “We are not partners, Murray!”
“You want a beer, Ev?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Chris.”
I navigated my best friend’s living room, dodging toys and a baby gym. There were nice smells coming from the kitchen.
“Everett.” Chris’ high school sweetheart and wife, Steph, hurried out of the kitchen to give me a hug.
“Nice to see you, Steph. You’re glowing.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware I have the tired-mother-of-two look going on. Not to mention a little of haven’t-lost-the-baby-weight chic.” Her brown hair was up in an untidy bun on the top of her head and while she’d always been short and curvy, I thought the added pounds looked good on her.
“You’re gorgeous, babe.” Chris kissed the side of her head. “You gave me two beautiful baby girls.”
They smiled at each other.
They were still as besotted with each other as the day they’d met in high school. Steph had been a new student who’d transferred in from Texas. We’d all been fifteen at the time. Chris had taken one look at her and been rendered speechless.
“These are for you, Steph.” I handed over the bunch of flowers I’d brought.
“Thank you.” She beamed at me.
“Evy!” came a high-pitched squeal followed by the running of small feet.
Four-year-old Bess hit my legs and I hoisted her up. I blew a raspberry on her neck. That got me wild, happy giggles.
“Where’s your sister?”
Bess pointed. Baby Hazel was in a baby swing, which looked like something that belonged on the space shuttle.
“Pressie,” Bess lisped as she settled on my hip.
“Elisabeth Ann, you don’t ask for presents,” Steph said.
The little girl stuck her lip out, then looked at me and fluttered her eyelashes.
“Another female under the Everett Murray charm,” Steph groused with a smile.
I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out the tiny wooden carving.
With a happy cry, Bess took the small angel I’d carved for her.
“Bess, what do you say?” her dad prompted.
