Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)

by Meghan Quinn

“You’re going to get me presents?” I ask with a raise of my brow. “We’re not assholes,” Taters says. “Of course we’re going to get you stuff. Blakely invited us to the baby shower, so we’re not going to show up empty-handed. And it would be helpful if we had some direction.” I chuckle. “I can’t imagine you three walking around a baby store, picking stuff out.” “Why the hell not?” Posey asks, offended. “We know things about babies.” “Oh yeah? What do you know?” “Uh . . . that they shit,” Taters says. “They take naps,” Holmes offers. “They suck on boobs,” Posey adds. “Basically, they’re mini versions of us.” “Well put.” Taters gives him a nod. “That’s awkwardly accurate,” Holmes says. “Oh, yeah?” I say. “When was the last time you’ve sucked on a boob?” Holmes shifts in his seat. “Doesn’t matter.” Posey thumbs toward Holmes. “Talk about blue balls. I walked in on this guy taking a shower during the season, and his balls were like two mini Violet Beauregardes hanging from his junk. The hue of his balls was frightening.” “Shut the fuck up,” Holmes says, kicking at Posey, who’s laughing now.