“Ha.” He stepped out of reach. “No using me to put off the inevitable.”
“I could just text her.” At his raised brow, my shoulders sagged. “I know she does shit like that to me all the time and I hate it.”
“You’re better than that.”
“Maybe I don’t have to be.”
He stalked toward me, intensity in his gaze that had my breath catching. “You are the best man I know. You’re honest and loyal and have so much integrity it gets me rock-hard.”
My laugh burst free at his sweet words being followed up with his usual horny self. “Thank you.”
With a swat of my ass, he backed away. “I’ll go and make sure Lottie is ready to head out.”
Once alone, I stared at my cell before finally pressing on Moira’s contact details.
“What’s wrong?” she greeted.
“Why would there be anything wrong?”
“It’s not even seven in the morning.”
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t think.”
Silence filled the line.
“Moira, you there?”
“Yes, of course I am, but you always call knowing what time it is here.” I could imagine her pursing her lips, a frown between her eyes. “So,” she drew out, her tone on the cusp of exasperation, “I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”
There was little point beating around the bush.
“I’m getting married.”
One, two, three beats she remained quiet. I waited her out.
“I can’t say I saw it coming. I didn’t think you and Wayne were heading down that path.”
“Ah, actually,” I interrupted, realizing I hadn’t told her about splitting with Wayne. In my defense, why would I have? Our communication was always centered around our daughter. The only time we shared or discussed anything else was when it was significant. It was another clarifying moment—the knowledge that me ending things with Wayne hadn’t been significant enough to mention. I winced. Not sure I liked at all what that said about me.
Fuck, Moira was going to think I was fickle as fuck and that this was rushed.
“Actually what?” she prompted when I got lost in my thoughts.
“Wayne and I called things off months ago.” “Months” sounded better than seven weeks or whatever it was, right?
“Right,” she said slowly. “Oh please God, don’t tell me you knocked someone up.”
I barked out a laugh, not even feeling indignant or telling her it was none of her business if that had happened. “No chance of that happening.”
“So, a man. Don’t keep me in suspense, Eddie. You know I was never one for guessing games.”
I sighed, thinking about the impatient woman Moira was today. She absolutely was no longer the woman I’d once fallen in love with and married. “It’s Pearce. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”
“PearceMalcolm?”
“One and the same.”
“Your friend? The basketball player?”
