“We knew you would,” Wren added.
“Thanks to you all,” I said.
“What did we do?” She huffed at the sound of a buzzer from the kitchen. “Hold on. I have to take the meat out.” She touched Christy’s arm. “I’ll put yours in and we’ll eat when it’s ready.” She shot Trip a warning look. “Don’t start till I get back.”
He grinned. “Your wish—”
“Don’t you dare,” she warned. “You won’t get laid for a week, and definitely not tonight.” She pretended to glare at me, but I saw through it easily. She was excited and happy, and not just for us.
I glanced at Christy and knew why. They both had a satisfied glow about them.
“Go on,” Christy told her. “I’ll make sure they wait.”
Wren gave her a smile full of affection and headed toward the kitchen.
Trip waited until she was out of earshot, although he still lowered his voice when he said to Christy, “I owe you an apology.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Why?”
“I didn’t realize how much you believed in us, in me. Susan told me what you said—”
“It was nothing,” she said.
“—and I know how much you support Paul. We couldn’t do this without you and Wren in our corner.”
He’d caught her off guard, but she recovered quickly. “Thank you.”
“He really means it,” I added. “Susan said she wouldn’t’ve hired us if it weren’t for you.”
“Thank you, but I didn’t really do anything.”
“Yes, you did,” Trip insisted. “And we— I appreciate it.”
We abruptly fell silent as Wren reappeared from the kitchen.
“Okay, it’s resting. About fifteen minutes.” She smiled at Christy. “I put yours in with the potatoes— Hold on, what’d I miss?”
“Nothing,” Trip said smoothly. “What’s for dinner?”
She eyed him skeptically but said, “Chateaubriand and pommes frites.”
“With a yummy portobello for me,” Christy added.
“How about wine?” he asked. “We should celebrate, with champagne.”
“No, red,” Wren said automatically. “And we are celebrating. With a nice Bordeaux. From Saint-Julien.”
His eyebrows went up. “The case you stole from your father?”
“I wasn’t going to mention that,” she said.
“And… um… we might’ve started early,” Christy admitted. “Only, we didn’t know exactly when you’d be home,” she added in a rush. “Besides, you can’t expect us to talk without a glass of wine!”
“Perish the thought,” I said dryly.
“Mr. Meanie.”
“Yeah, Mr. Meanie,” Trip said as he clapped me on the shoulder. “Lighten up.”
Christy’s eyebrows rose but she didn’t say anything.
“Come on,” Wren said, “we’ll open another bottle. You can tell us about your trip.”
* * *
“That was amazing, babe,” Trip said after dinner. He picked up an empty wine bottle and read the label. “And these Gruaud Larose guys really know how to make wine.”
I didn’t know Gruaud Larose from Guy Laroche, but I knew what tasted good.
“Yeah, it was nice,” I added, “but the steak was the best part. Absolutely amazing, Wren.”
“The best steak I’ve ever had,” Christy said with a wry smile.
“Better than tube steak?” Trip joked.
“That depends,” Christy said. Her smile hardened. It was an invitation to keep digging, and he reached for a shovel.
“On what?”
“Whether I like the owner or not.”
“Oh, burn,” I said, as lightly as I could.
“Ouch,” he agreed. “No kidding.”
“Don’t mess with my girl,” I added. “She grew up with older brothers. She punches above her weight.”
She relaxed slightly once she realized I was on her side.
“Whatever,” Trip said. “I was trying to be funny, but…” He drained his wineglass and attempted to play it off. “She’ll come around.”
I cut him some slack because he’d been drinking, but I still felt the need to say something. “Remember what we talked about the other day,” I cautioned. “One step forward, two steps back.”
“That one of your fancy dance moves?”
“Yeah. It’s called the ‘crash and burn.’”
He realized I wasn’t kidding, and he stopped himself before he made things worse.
“Oh, man,” he said instead, “I blew that save. Time for me to get off the mound.” He inhaled sharply to clear his head. “Sorry.”
My eyes tightened. His apology had been for me.
“Uh-oh,” he said quickly. “Now I really need to stop pitching.” At least he realized why I wasn’t happy. He turned to Christy. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s all right.”
“Not really, but thanks.” He took another deep breath and said to Wren, “Get me outta here, babe. Can I help with the dishes?”
Three sets of eyebrows hit the ceiling. We were so shocked that the tension turned into disbelief.
“What?” Trip protested. “I can change. I can be a New Age guy too.”
“He can,” Wren agreed. She touched his hand and smiled at him fondly. “He doesn’t let others see it very often, but I know it’s there.”
“Well, that’s our cue,” I said at the same time as Christy touched my knee under the table. “Are you ready to head up?”
She smiled for real when she realized we’d been thinking the same thing. She told Wren, “Thanks for dinner. It was wonderful.” She added to Trip, “And congratulations on the job. I know you’ll do well.”
“Thanks,” he said. “We’ll see y’all tomorrow. And… um… I’m really sorry about what I said.”
Christy slipped her hand into mine, and we headed upstairs together. She waited until the bedroom door closed before she balled her fists and stomped a tiny foot.
“Ugh! He drives me crazy sometimes.”
“Yeah, but I thought his apology was sincere.”
“I suppose,” she admitted, “but only ’cause he wants to get lucky.” She shook her head in annoyance. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”
I pulled her into my arms and smiled down at her. “Anything you do want to talk about?”
“Yes, please.” She took a deep, calming breath. Then she stretched upward for a kiss.
“I missed you,” I said after.
“I missed you too.”
I decided to tease her to lighten the mood. “Are you sure?”
“What do you mean? Of course I’m sure!”
“Uh-oh,” I said immediately. “My turn to apologize. Sorry, I just meant that you and Wren had fun this weekend.”
“Oh, that,” she said a little guiltily. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”
“Nope.”
“Hold on,” she flared, “why’re you giving me a hard time? You had fun with Susan! Why shouldn’t I—?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down.”
“I’ll calm down when you—!” She closed her mouth and simply glared.
“When I what?” I said as evenly as I could.
“Nothing.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “Sorry, I’m still mad at Trip. And I’m taking it out on you. Hold on, why’m I apologizing? He’s the one who treats me like a prize in a box of candy!”
“He knows. He’s trying to do better. Wren talked to him. So did I.”
“Good,” she grumped. “And for the record, this is not how I wanted this evening to go.”
“Oh? You didn’t want a fight with your boyfriend?”
“I didn’t want a fight with anyone. Only, he doesn’t respect me.”
“Of course he does. He—”
“No, he doesn’t, Paul. He thinks I should swoon at the chance to sleep with him. He’s just like the guys in high school. Stupid jocks. But I’m not like that, thank you very much!”
“Hold on, what’s the matter with jocks? I’m a jock. So were your brothers.”