Tessa Bailey

I’m going to feed you before I introduce you to God.

“Did you always complain this much?” Travis decided that didn’t need an answer and Stephen wasn’t waiting for one anyway. “I’m trying to get Kristin to give . . . strong consideration to children. I thought this might encourage her.”
Travis frowned as a woman waiting to cross the street blew a kiss at him. “This conversation is above my pay grade.” He could feel Stephen wanting to say more and sighed. “She’s not considering having kids? Isn’t that the first thing a married woman living on Long Island considers?”
“Kristin is complicated,” he explained patiently. “She wants me to work for it

Kristin told us all that this club is about empowering ourselves. But she also confirmed the rumor that you’re dating Travis Ford. He was at a family dinner and everything.” She crossed her arms. “It’s no secret Travis goes through women like water. How are we supposed to listen to your advice when you can’t even follow it yourself?”
A murmur went up around the room.
Bethany took a position in front of Georgie. “Bad form calling her out in front of—”
“No,” Georgie said, patting her sister’s shoulder. “It’s okay. She’s right. But seriously, Kristin, you’re, like, two seconds away from getting voted off the island.”
Kristin slumped against the kitchen wall and stuffed an empanada into her mouth. “Oh,” she sniffed. “These are so much better than my corn muffins.”
No sooner had Kristin taken her second bite of the empanada than Stephen came striding into the house—once again with wet hair. He said nothing as he hustled his wife out the door. And his scowl ensured that nobody tried to stop him

Last night, after the limousine dropped them back at her house, there had been no question he was staying the night. That’s what boyfriends did, wasn’t it? And it turned out his girlfriend often slept in these tiny flannel shorts that went straight up her ass—he’d found them in the back of her sock drawer while digging for something to keep her feet warm. He’d coaxed her into modeling them and now he was borderline obsessed. When he imagined Georgie in front of the fireplace he was building, she wore nothing but those booty huggers and a smile, her skin lit up from the flames.
You don’t have to hold back because I’m so tight.
“Christ

When I start to pull the dress over my head, he stops me. “Leave it. I’m going to make you come in that dress. Then I’m going to fucking burn it.”

“Sit up. I’m about to banish the word coffee from your vocabulary.”
I prop myself against the pillow and take the offered cup. “Never going to happen. When I die, I want my ashes sprinkled over a Starbucks.”

“Let’s go home, then.”
“Where’s home?” I ask, laying my head on his shoulder.
“Wherever you are, girl.”

Jesus, man. Just order a Coke.”
“A soda won’t erase the memory of my wife in ice-pick heels and a miniskirt trotting off down the driveway.”
“Christ. I knew this was woman-related.” Dominic eased back from the bar. “Look, I’ve got my own problems.”
“Yeah, you do.” Travis leaned an elbow on the bar and faced Dominic. “Again, let me paint the scene for you. I’m standing in my kitchen, minding my own business. Georgie is in the bedroom and I’m getting ready to . . . you know, go see her there—”
Stephen dragged his hands down his face. “That can’t be relevant to the story, you asshole.”
“It is.” Travis seemed to be fighting back a smile. “I was carrying her a glass of wine to the bedroom—our bedroom, Stephen—when she comes out . . .” His skin paled and he seemed to be having a hard time swallowing. “She’s in this dress I’ve never seen. It’s pure white. White.” He got off the stool and turned, looking back at Dominic and Stephen over his shoulder, one hand indicating his ass. “I could see the shadow between her—”
“Enough.” Stephen held out a stern finger. “Don’t say another word.”
“I’ve never seen those shoes, either,” Travis muttered, sitting back down and burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Dominic split a look between his friends, a growing sense of doom starting to mount in his chest. “Okay, so both of your women are dressed up. Where are they going?”
“Out,” Travis and Stephen stage-whispered, twin looks of horror on their faces. “Bethany showed up to both of our houses hanging out of the top of a limousine, drinking champagne straight from the bottle

“If I’m not doing that, I’m doing nothing. I’ve been doing nothing.” Rosie laid her ice-cold hands on the sides of her face. For the past week, she’d been feeling apprehensive, positive things were moving forward too easily with her and Dominic. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Was this why? “Oh my God.”
“That’s enough of this,” Dominic ground out, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Stop upsetting her.”

She didn’t even know which part of her was in command. Her head, her heart, her lady business. Or maybe they all were, three bitches hitting the switches of her control panel.