The Rhythm Method (Stage Dive, #4.8)

by Kylie Scott

“Now here we are. It’s the city of love, baby. So let’s go make it.” “Oh my God.” I laughed. “You better play exceptionally well here, because you’re getting so much mileage out of this city of love thing.”

“No biting,” announced a small voice. “Don’t, Uncle Davie.” “Shit. Tommy.” David swallowed. “Didn’t see you there, buddy.” The child with the mop of wild blond hair stared up at us with a horrified expression. “You sweared!”

“Did you happen to notice the part where none of us are in fact British?” “Bollocks and blimey. What rubbish,” said Mal in a horrible attempt at a posh English accent. “Why, I’m as British as…something very British.”

I arranged the Chinese takeout containers on the coffee table. My mouth was watering. Misery loves dumplings, apparently.