Ready or Not (Ready #4)(2)

Apparently, my attempt at politeness with a dash of southern charm hadn’t worked. Not even a little.

The man looked at me blankly, before wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweaty shirt. “Sorry, we’re under a time crunch, lady.”

“Ugh!” I cried out in frustration. “Is there an owner to all this crap?”

“There is, but he’s not here right now. I think he got stuck in beach traffic on I-95. Moving here from down south, I think,” he rambled.

“Awesome.”

I took one last glance at the truck completely blocking in my car from getting on the road leading to my best friends’ house—Mia and Garrett Finnegan.

I would be late once again.

An hour later, after whipping my car into gear and flying down the road as quickly as possible in the direction of Garrett and Mia’s, I was finally on my way to the party.

Arguments with new neighbors and moving companies immediately vanished.

My little godson was turning one today.

It still amazed me to say that I had a godson.

When Mia Emerson had arrived on my doorstep four years ago, I’d found a shell of my former best friend. She’d looked much the same. Although older and perhaps a bit less naive than the last time I’d seen her, it had still been her peeking through those watery blue eyes—or at least part of her.

The other half she’d left behind eight years earlier when she walked away, broken and ashamed. When she’d found Garrett standing on a street corner in a farmer’s market, it was like the entire world had righted itself that day.

It had taken time and a lot of healing on both sides, but eventually, they’d found a path back to each other.

Then, they’d found Asher, my beautiful little godson.

Due to a miscarriage gone wrong, Mia could never have children of her own. After their first couple of years of marriage, she and Garrett had decided to adopt and make a family of their own. Seeing my two best friends become parents was a joy I couldn’t describe, and it’d made me believe that anything was possible.

Except the possibility of me ever being on time.

I glared at the stoplight that had been stuck in the annoying shade of red for what seemed like an eternity, and I silently willed it to turn green. Someone must have felt pity for me in that moment because the light miraculously turned, and I quickly made it down the last few blocks to the cute little renovated house where Garrett and Mia had been living since she returned to Richmond.

Since Garrett had moved in, the house had undergone several upgrades, and now, it was the showpiece on the block. Its fresh paint and beautiful landscaping made it one of the most sought after pieces of property in the area. But until little Asher needed more room or if they decided to add to the family, I believed the Finnegans were staying put.

I didn’t bother knocking, and instead, I just entered through the front door, yelling, “Hello?”

Mia’s golden retriever, Sam, came barreling down the hallway. Several small children followed behind, chasing his tail.

I gave him and the kids a proper welcome, and then I proceeded into the kitchen where the majority of the adults were crowded around the hors d’oeuvres.

“Hey, everyone. Sorry I’m late.” I set down the veggie and hummus platter on the counter next to a large bowl of fruit.

“No problem.” Mia grinned.

“What?” I asked, noticing the mischief in her eyes.

“Well, we’re kind of used to it by now.”

I chucked a kitchen towel at her head, and she burst out laughing.

“Shut up,” I mumbled. “You have flour in your hair.”

Her eyes widened as her hands flew up to her long brown hair, brushing away the white powder that had settled around her crown.

“I don’t know how you manage to be on time for work every morning, yet you’re late to everything else, Liv.”

I shrugged. “Don’t want to piss off my boss.” I winked, which caused everyone to laugh. “Where’s my—” I began asking just as the baby monitor went nuts.

Red lights started flashing as high-pitched wailing filled the room.

“Oh, there he is,” I said with a grin.

“He took an extra-long nap,” Garrett explained.

Mia motioned toward the stairs.

“Let me,” I said. “I want to snuggle him.”

My flowing teal skirt swished and floated behind me as I left the party and jogged up the stairs. I passed the master bedroom and walked down the hall until I reached Asher’s nursery. Pushing open the door to the dimly lit room, I walked inside.

The soft light in the room washed out most of the bright colors, leaving only muted, somber tones. The yellow on the walls was barely recognizable with the black shade pulled taut, but I could almost make out the tiny star shapes I’d painted on the walls months before he was brought home.

My little peanut was standing in his crib as little tears trickled down his chubby cheeks. As soon as he saw me enter, his little hands flew up, making little pinchers, as he lost the last bit of patience he had.

“Okay, okay.” I laughed. “I’ll spring you free,” I cooed, lifting him from the crib and nestling him in my arms.

He smelled like baby shampoo, so clean and fresh. Whoever had invented that particular scent was a genius. I had no plans of making a baby anytime soon, but just a whiff of that stuff even made my chained-up ovaries constrict just the slightest bit.