Perfect Together by Kristen Ashley

“Baby, boys will be boys.”

It was the “baby” that got me, in both very good and very bad ways, thus it ratcheted up my annoyance.

“Yes,” I snapped. “And boys being boys means they might feel peer pressured into trashy, locker room talk about girls. And I know you’ve firmly stressed that even if said girls are absent, that is still a violation of them. And if they ever were to consider engaging in such vile byplay, they should remember their mother and sister and know such things had been said or were being said somewhere about both of them and consider how that feels. But more, how it would make their mother and sister feel. And not only refrain from doing it but tell the buffoons who are doing it to shut their damned mouths because they’re behaving like buffoons.”

“Fucking love it when you slip words like ‘buffoons’ into one of your rants,” Remy murmured.

“Remy!” I shouted.

“It’s just a beer, Wyn. It’s not talking smack about a woman because, yeah, Sabre and Yves know never to do that shit, but also, we’ve just found out, Yves wouldn’t anyway.” He looked to his son. “And no trash talking guys either, kid. What’s good for the gander is the same for the goose.”

Yves, my perfect final child, lifted…his…blasted…beer, smirked at his dad and said, “You’re heard, Father.”

Then he shot back a slug.

“Oh. My. God!” I yelled at my son.

“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” Remy asked.

I opened my mouth, but no.

No.

This was not us anymore.

It wasn’t.

He wanted to have a beer with his underage child?

Fine by me!

“Enjoy yourselves,” I bid, nabbed my bag and stomped out of the room in the direction of my closet.

I heard Remy’s chuckle.

And joining it was a replica of the same.

God!

Why could I not have three girl children?

Why?

Manon was sheer perfection when she wasn’t hinting at the sexual relationship she was having with her boyfriend (and even, kind of, when she was).

Ugh!

I switched out purses, checked my lipstick and hair (no, I did not do this for Remy (yes, that was a lie, I did this because Remy was there)) and marched out, shooting a glare to Remy and blowing a kiss to my son.

God.





Yves





Sabre’s face was already on his laptop screen, and they were shooting the shit while they waited for Manon’s face to hit it.

It did with her saying immediately, “I’m on a date, you dorks. What’s the freaking emergency I have to race to my stupid computer?”

“Mom and Dad are totally getting back together,” Yves declared.

“What?” Sah asked.

“They’re getting back together,” Yves repeated.

“They aren’t, brother, I talked to Mom about it today,” Manon said.

“When today?” Yves asked.

“Before her girls’ night.”

“When she was in the car or something?” Yves pushed.

“No. I don’t think so. I didn’t ask. Why?”

“Because me and Dad were in the kitchen having a beer—”

Manon rolled her eyes and interrupted him. “You will note Dad didn’t initiate me to alcohol with Gastineau Family Hold Your Drink 101.”

“Because Mom had been letting you have a half a glass of wine at dinner since you were fifteen, a full one starting at sixteen, and she mixed your freaking martinis herself the first time you came home for a visit from school,” Sah pointed out.

Manon shut up.

“Why do you think they’re getting back together?” Sah asked.

“Well, first, she didn’t kick Dad out. She just started bickering with him immediately, like he never left,” Yves explained.

None of them said anything.

But they all knew what that meant.

Manon spoke first.

“She seemed pretty…firm about that not happening, Y.”

“She was looking MILF, as usual, and I can say that because I’m gay,” Yves said.

Manon grinned.

Sah laughed.

“And she walked in, and for a second there, I thought I needed to figure out how to disappear in a puff of smoke because I thought he’d jump her,” Yves finished.

“This is gross,” Sah muttered.

“There are worse things than your parents having a very healthy sex life,” Manon sniffed.

“Did you hear me a second ago saying this is gross?” Sah asked.

“You guys, shut up. They’re getting back together,” Yves pressed. “He called her ‘baby.’”

Both his older siblings focused on him, he could tell, even if they were looking at his face on a screen.

“He did?” Manon asked quietly.

Yves nodded.

“What’d she do?” Sah asked.

“Nothing, it was like when they were together. They just kept squabbling. Mom was on a roll, it was her usual, totally hilarious. And Dad totally did not miss how hilarious it was.”

“Yves, bud, I hear you, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Sabre said.

“Yeah,” Manon agreed, though she now seemed unsure.

“You weren’t there,” Yves told them.