Free Complete Harmony by Julia Kent Page B

Jillian’s fever was long gone, and Laura had let go of her annoyance with Dylan. You couldn’t catch that baby before she did anything—she was so fast! And cunning.
    Just like her parents.
    Washing dishes with Mike while the baby played with a set of plastic rings, Laura heard something. I n the distance. Her ringtone. Josie’s ringtone, actually.
    Mike shook his head. “‘Superfreak’? Got that right.” But his tone w as playful. A quick shrug and she was running down the hall on tiptoes, trying to anticipate whether Jillian would have a fearful reaction to the ring (a new development in the baby) , where the phone was, and how to locate it quickly and quietly.
    The mother’s phone dance.
    By the time she found it, it was too late. Josie left no voicemail, but the texts told the story.
    Problem at the office.
    We have a PR issue.
    Meet me at Jeddy’s.
    Not a fake meeting, either.
    “What does she mean, ‘fake meeting’?”
    Laura hadn’t noticed Dylan behind her as she read through the quick messages. There were just too many men in this house! The affect in his voice was accusatory, yet joking. But not really.
    “Nothing.” Laura pocketed the phone and frowned. Could Josie be a bit more obvious? WTF? “What could be so important? A PR issue? As if I need more shit with the company. This i s getting out of hand,” she complained. Had to be convincing.  
    “ You guys create pretend meetings so you can just hang out?”  
    “Of course not!”
    “That’s what it seems like.” Damn it, Josie.  
    “And I suppose that folder on your computer marked ‘Tax Documents 2001’ is really tax forms,” she shot back.
    “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, stretching out the word . She’d accidentally stumbled across his porn collection a long time ago. Didn’t care, but she knew the knowledge would come in handy some time. Like now.
    “We don’t really do a lot of fake meetings,” she said . “And most of the time I bring the baby. It’s just…sometimes I need to sit and have a cup of coffee with a friend without making a big deal out of it.”
    “ Of course—”
    She cut him off as two more texts came in. “But this sounds really bad. Can we talk later?”
    “We’re talking?” He smiled, dimples and all, and cupped her chin.
    “Ha ha.”
    “Mike okay?”
    That made her pause, even in her rush. “I don’t know. He’s real l y grappling with some deep issues. Questions about how we operate, what our relationship means, how I relate to him alone and to both of you…that kind of stuff.”
    “I just block that shit out when the worry bubbles up ,” Dylan muttered.
    “What a great strategy. I’m sure that’s working so well,” she deadpanned. “You’re just deferring all your emotions and in ten years Mike and I will pick up the pieces.”
    “That’s the plan. Thanks in advance.” The smile in his eyes made her grateful she’d paused, the joke sinking in on many levels. That they would be together in tens years was a given.  
    And what a wonderful, loving given it was.
    These moment s were what made life the chaotic, messy, loveable, astounding shambles she’d always wanted it to be. The days of being lonely and licking her wounds from guys like Ryan (Ryan who?), working in a windowless office, living life as if it were meant to be a series of transactions to get through rather than a buff e t of experiences to taste and devour, were long gone.
    And then—Dylan’s ringtone.
    Echoing down the hall.
    “What’s that?” The sound of something country made a tinny reverberation, as if Blake Shelton were stuck inside a tailpipe. The two followed it, and Mike appeared in the hall, wat ch ing them as they perked their ears and followed the sound. His still-shirtless chest made her mouth start to water.  
    “What is that?” he asked.
    “Shh!” they said in unison as they got closer, the sound increasingly louder in the living room.
    “W e ird,” Mike said. “It’s like