It’ll be at Chesson House. At one-thirty in the afternoon.”
With that, he rose from the chair and grabbed his plate before heading to the kitchen and placing it in the dishwasher. No one followed him. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Kind of like his upcoming marriage to Haven.
*
Later that evening, after a seven-mile run and a shower, Heath stretched out in his old bed. A yawn cracked his mouth open.
Instead of going to sleep right away, he got his laptop out and watched videos of old games.
After he just noticed that Smithson couldn’t hit a basic slider, his phone buzzed.
HAVEN: What’s your favorite song?
Brow furrowing, he set his laptop to the side and answered her.
HEATH: Anything by Jaxon Hunter.
HAVEN: Ugh. You would.
He laughed.
HEATH: I saw your foot tapping to his latest at Bobby and Darla Rae’s wedding.
HAVEN: My foot is not responsible for its reactions to musical stimuli.
HEATH: What’s your favorite song?
HAVEN: Girl Crush.
That was an odd choice. Which guy did she want back? A surge of unexpected jealousy hit him.
HEATH: That might not be the best song to dance to at our wedding.
HAVEN: We can dance to whatever we want.
Shit. Now she was all defensive.
HEATH: But we can’t leave our friends behind, even if they don’t dance.
HAVEN: Stop making me laugh. You’re not supposed to be this funny.
He pressed call on his screen.
She picked up after the second ring.
“I’d rather make you laugh than you be pissed off at me,” he said.
“As long as you don’t say something to piss me off, then you should be okay.”
“I don’t think I can be quiet for the next sixty years, Haven.”
A cross between a snort and a giggle left her. “We’ve already known each other for what…fifteen years now? I guess I can put up with the things that come out of your mouth.”
“You’re in a good mood,” he observed.
“I’m drinking margaritas!”
And that explained so much. “With Willow?”
“Yep! We’re at her place. I’m going to spend the night.”
“Very smart thinking, but if you want to go anywhere, call me and I’ll come get you.”
“Like on a date?” She hiccupped.
“Sure. Like on a date.”
“What if I told you that Gotham needs you… to let her go potty?” She dissolved into a fit of laughter.
“I’d put on my cape and rescue the poor cat.”
“You have a cape.”
“I wasn’t being literal.”
“You literally have a cape? Can I wear it?”
He bit back a laugh at her enthusiasm. “Put Willow on the phone, honey.”
“Don’t call me honey, sweetheart. Or is that darlin’? Willow, what’s the song to the words?”
He heard some rustling, and then an ouch followed by a, “Sit down now .”
“Sorry. It’s kind of hit her all at once,” Willow said. “She’s been doing shots with her margaritas, but don’t worry, I’m not drinking.”
“Tell him Ed Sheeran. SEVENTYYYYY,” Haven shouted.
“Did you catch that?” Willow asked.
“Yep.”
“Do you know why she’s yelling his name and a random number?”
Favorite artist and song with that lyric in it. He’d make sure it was the one they danced to first. “I do.”
“Good. Anyway, sorry to bother you. I hid her phone, but she found it and texted you before I could stop her. Girl can’t hold her liquor.”
“No, she can’t. Why is she drinking tonight?”
“This is her bachelorette party.”
“What about Daisy and Bella?”
Willow got quiet for a moment. Then, “Haven, lay down and I’ll be right back.”
Heath sat up in bed. What had he said that made Willow leave the room?
“They’re on the other side of the world, Heath, each married to their very own Prince Charming with the whole fairy-tale ending.”
Yeah, he knew Bella had her prince charming now. He hoped like hell she was happy with her choice. “They wouldn’t want to celebrate with her?”
“She’s marrying one of her best friend’s ex-boyfriends to keep her business from being
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