"Where are they? What's taking them so long?"
Avery put her phone down and glanced to her left. Her lovely husband had his ankle over his knee. He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. Every now and then, he sneaked a peek at the entrance—hoping that the two would show up already.
His foot tapped on the floor.
Rolling her eyes, Avery smacked his shoulder and made him look at her. "Stop whining. You sound like a 5-year old kid who is waiting for Santa Claus to drop from the chimney."
"What makes you think I'm not one?"
This time, she used the edge of her phone. The compact metal dug into his skin. She twisted it for emphasis and bared her teeth. "Like hell you are. I'm not a sugar mommy."
Jackson recoiled from the hit. His face contorted in pain as he massaged the sore spot. He had just opened his mouth when a new voice interrupted the scene.
"Interesting conversation we have here."
