Method(59)

“Not a bad idea,” Reid’s voice carries from the porch.

She raises her hand in his direction. “Hush, man, or no drunken sex for you and you know damn well I’m getting good at it.”

I lift a brow at Reid, and his gaze is fixed on his wife as he slowly shakes his head.

“Keep it up,” he warns before turning his back and continuing his conversation. Reid looks every bit the rock star he is and if I wasn’t living the dream with one of my own, I would be jealous of their connection. Though I have to admit today, I’m feeling a small stab of it.

Stella keeps her eyes on me.

“Is he still looking at me?” she asks.

“No.”

“I’m trying to be more assertive with his alpha before we procreate. Momming is no joke. I will not barter on certain issues.”

“Looks like it’s working,” I say.

“Really?” she asks, hopeful.

“Absolutely not,” I reply with a laugh.

She joins me. “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.”

“So, what brings you from Seattle?”

She takes the bottle from my hand and sips my wine. “Why music, of course. The boys have a concert tomorrow and we wanted to see you guys. I couldn’t get a hold of you, but Reid managed to get Lucas.”

“Funny,” I snort. “I haven’t managed to get Lucas today.”

She stops my wine bottle halfway to her mouth. “I thought this party was odd. I didn’t think Lucas got down like this.”

“Lucas doesn’t.”

“Ah, yeah, he’s a gangster now, right? I have to admit, I’m excited to see him bring it like that.”

We both glance over at Lucas who looks gorgeous in jeans and a T-shirt. He’s talking so casually and looks lighter on his feet today, like there’s less weight on his shoulders. It’s enough to curb my anger for the moment.

“So, I’m guessing this little impromptu party wasn’t your idea?”

“Nope,” I say, grabbing the bottle.

“Shit, woman, I’m sorry. If I were you, I would be dismembering people. How are you keeping calm?”

“Because fuck it,” I say simply. “Go with the flow. At least for another couple of months.”

“Your tortured artist strikes again, huh?”

“Looks to be that way.”

“You know, Reid goes off the grid sometimes when he writes music. He doesn’t talk for days, gets heavy and locks himself in the studio, doesn’t eat. I’m not a fan of that shit, but in a way, I guess I understand it. Music takes me there sometimes. But I don’t necessarily think you have to bleed to get the job done.”

“It’s the way he was taught,” I say with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, what works, right?”

“Right,” I nod.

“Come on, lady, we won’t let this get you down. We’ll go get drunk and then swim naked just to piss them off.”

“I fucking dare you,” Reid sounds from the porch. Lucas is standing right next to him, staring me down with an expression I can’t read. I’m too upset to care.

“How long have you two been listening to our conversation?” Stella demands.

“For as long as you’ve been yelling it, Grenade,” Reid answers with a smirk.

“My bad,” she yells my way. Lucas’s eyes are still on me as I raise my sundress over my head baring myself in a bra and panties.

“Clean up my kitchen, Walker,” I snap, grabbing Stella’s hand and making my way toward the door to brush past Lucas.

“See,” Stella says, turning back to Reid when we get halfway across the deck, “she gets to swim naked.”

“She’s not naked,” Reid mutters dryly.

“Fine, I’ll keep my underwear on.”

“Bra too,” he snaps.

“Fine,” she says, laughing as we make our way to the surf.

We plant our asses on the sand and stare out at the ocean.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Stella says. “Maybe we should get a place here too.”

“You can just stay here. You know that. Anytime.”

“No offense, babe,” she says, discarding her T-shirt, “but if you can’t tolerate a house party, we really aren’t your style.”

“I can.”

Stella turns to face me her gaze inquisitive.

“You okay?”

“Trying to be.”

“I was sorry to hear about Blake. I wish I would have gotten a chance to know him better. Is Lucas handling it okay?”

I nod over my shoulder toward the party. “I wish I knew.”

She nudges my shoulder. “It’s just a movie. He’ll be back to his charming self in no time.”

“It’s not the party or the movie.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

I can’t hide the hurt in my voice when I reply. “Today’s our sixth wedding anniversary.”

She immediately uncaps the tequila bottle and starts pouring some in the sand in front of us.

“What are you doing?”

“Pouring some out for my homie, Lucas. May he rest in peace.”