Page 77 of Fly's Path

He’s going to laugh.

So what? Fly’s smile is amazing. Making him laugh over something trivial isn’t a bad thing.

“Um. I hate to bring this up, but what about food?” It isn’t surprising that the pregnant lady was the one who remembered that little detail. Greer’s belly has grown seemingly in the last few days that I’ve been here.

“My chef can handle the food. But if she needs help, I have a caterer that my family uses that will help out. There’s no need to worry that baby boy of yours will be fed.”

Why doesn’t it surprise me that Winnie has a chef or a caterer on speed dial? How would these women act if they knew I was sitting amongst them, homeless?

Don’t go there.

Your life isn’t their problem.

Your financial issues are yours alone. No one is responsible for supporting and sheltering you.

Don’t be a burden.

No one wants to hear about the problems trash like you might have. Grammie’s voice plays loud and clear in my head.

The food turns into sawdust in my mouth. I set my fork down and try to focus on the joy around me.

***

“Oh, I have the best news.” Dahlia reaches across the car divider and takes Maverick’s hand.

Now I know there’s a meme somewhere about a man cringing when a woman says this, but Maverick’s grin at Dahlia’s words is enough to have me turning my head to give them privacy.

Not that I can give them much, trapped inside this tank of an SUV.

“What’s this good news, Dahl?” He takes her hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing each of her knuckles.

Fine, I’m kind of bad at not being nosy.

“We’re throwing a bachelorette party for Dylan this weekend.”

“No. Absolutely not. I need at least two weeks to arrange security for all of you. Two days isn’t enough to assemble a team to keep you and your nutty friends safe.”

Dahlia giggles.

“This isn’t funny. Your last party took ten years off my life.” He shakes his head. “The only way this party is happening is if I’m there, armed to the teeth.”

She grins. “Good, because you’re invited.”

Dahlia snookered him.

The shock on that man’s face is priceless.

“And you won’t even need to jangle when you walk, because you won’t need to be armed. The party is taking place at Winnie’s house.”

Don’t look.

Don’t look. I peek anyway.

Is Maverick going to pass out from shock or lose his mind from irritation?

Either one is going to be funny.

“All of you are staying at Winnie—the scary one’s—house for the entire party? There will be no mad dashes out to do something that will give me gray hairs?”