“I suppose that could have been worse.” Zoey’s voice was rich with humor. “Although I can’t imagine how.”

“Oh, I can think of a few ways, like if Mary had spilled the beans on what she heard us talking about.”

Zoey’s mouth dropped open. “You think she heard?”

“I know she did. She’s probably saving it to hold over my head at some future date.”

“Or my head. She’s going to be pissed at both of us for not telling her.”

Mike thought about that for a moment. Mary would support them both, no matter what. After all, the three of them had been a team since third grade.

“She’ll be fine with it.” He watched Mary take a slice of Nana’s peach cobbler to her husband. “She’s probably planning our wedding as we speak.”

“God, I hope not,” Zoey muttered. Then she looked up, her face pale. “I mean... We’re nowhere near that point. Just because our friends and families know about us, we’re still not...public. Hazel...” She winced again. “I must sound like a broken record, like I’m using her as an excuse, but...”

“I understand.” He didn’t, completely. But he was trying. “At least we can relax around some people.” He gave her a quick smile, because she looked like she needed one. “I promised Mary that I’d help with cleaning up and making sure Sam has everything he needs. Meet you at your place later?” He leaned over and kissed her softly—their first semipublic kiss—ignoring the catcalls they were getting from their friends.

She nodded, also ignoring the teasing. “Vickie has someone delivering a bed she’s donated for Hazel’s room around six.” She grinned. “Now that she knows about us, you don’t have to worry about playacting around her.”

He pulled her into an embrace, just because he could. Owen was right.

They were burning hot.

And he couldn’t get enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

VICKIE FROZE WHEN Gordy playfully tapped her on the behind as he walked around his truck to tie down the upholstered headboard.

“Don’t you dare do that at Zoey’s place!”

“Why?” He was laughing. “Is sleeping with me something taboo, like having an affair with your pool boy?” He tied a knot in the rope. “Or is it because I’m so precious to you that you want me all to yourself?”

She blinked. It was a little of both, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“I don’t have a pool boy. I have a robot thingy that keeps it clean.”

Gordy walked up to her, resting his hands on her waist. It wasn’t fair how good he looked in his dark T-shirt and cargo shorts. He smelled good, too. And that thick hair was constantly begging to have her fingers in it. And then he smiled, quickly melting her heart.