“So, wait up.” Willa Moore set her cup of coffee down, stared at her best friend. “You… you had s*x? Last night? In an MC bar back room? With a goddamn biker?”
“Shhhhh!” Zoe hissed, shooting a look at Keira. The baby was sitting at Zoe’s feet in front of the sofa, all blonde curls and brown eyes, happily absorbed in her favorite toy which Willa had been organized enough to bring on the plane. Thank Christ it was a totally silent toy, a stuffed giraffe with purple spots, because according to Willa, Keira had shaken that thing for the entire two-plus hours of the flight from Fargo. If it had even had a tiny bell inside of it, she was sure that it’d have driven the entire plane insane.
Willa stared at Zoe, then down at Keira, who was singing to herself in some language that made zero sense
