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For everyone who got to chapter three of Done and Dusted and immediately wanted Gus and Teddy. I’m so happy to finally share their story with you. Thank you for waiting.
MEEEE
The other day, one of the girls I work with at the boutique announced that she was pregnant, and my first thought was that we weren’t old enough to get pregnant—especially on purpose. My second thought was to ask her if she knew who the father was. And then I remembered that we’re in our late twenties, and she’s been married for nearly five years.
She had a thing for piles. I have no idea how she found anything, but she always seemed to know exactly where something was—even if it was behind her nightstand under a sock.
“This is way better than porn,” Teddy said, holding up her book. “Plus, I haven’t gotten to the sex yet. The hero and heroine are too busy fumbling around each other to realize that the reason it feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room every time they touch is because they’re in love.”
“I like doing laundry,” I said. “It’s methodical, doesn’t take a lot of brain power.”
I put the note in the book I was reading. I don’t know why, and I’m not going to deal with that either.
“I want to sit on this porch with you thirty years from now and look up at the sky and wonder what I did to deserve a life this good.
