Saturday, Brook knocked at the women’s door, holding wine and a large flower bouquet. She sweated, her gut roiled, and heart pounded.
Autumn opened the door, wearing a smile. “Hi, come in.”
As Brook passed Autumn, a floral perfume got Brook’s attention. She noted Autumn’s tight red jeans, long black dangling earrings, and silver necklace.
“Tori’s in the kitchen. She’s the cook of the house.”
“Good. That’s where women belong. Is she barefoot and pregnant, too?” Brook smirked.
Autumn swatted Brook’s ass. She gave no reaction, so Autumn did it again and said, “She can’t be pregnant, been too long since she saddled up with a man.”
Brook grinned in empathy. Autumn led her to the kitchen. “Wow, smells good in here.” Brook set the wine and flowers on the table.
Tori stomped her foot, scowl
