“Whose bright idea was this?” Tripp grumbled as he helped put the last of the boxes in the truck Maverick had rented. “And didn’t anyone tell you you’re supposed to have the boxes filled before you hire slave labor to help you move?”
Maverick shrugged. “Why do all the grunt work myself when I have you, Dirk and Fey to help?”
“Because?” Tripp shook his head. “When we get all this junk into Dirk’s place you owe me a drink.”
“You’re not old enough,” Dirk told him, overhearing Tripp’s words as he and Fey joined them.
“Yeah, he is,” Fey told him with a grin. “As of two am.”
“Hell, today’s your birthday? Why didn’t you say something?” Maverick asked.
Tripp shot Fey a sour look. “I didn’t have to. Miss Tell-All here did it instead.”
“Turning twenty-one is a big step,” Dirk said. “You shoul
