Chapter 6

“Yeah, thanks,” Lee said. “Definitely gettin’ it together.”

“Good.”

“You, too, I see,” Lee said. Jerking his chin at the kitchen apron stretched tight across Chad’s muscle-marbled chest. “Glad to see you’ve ‘got more time for misbehavin’.’” he teased, reading the catalog apron’s outdated declaration.

“Yeah,” Chad said with a laugh. “‘Since I started microwavin’.’”

“Not,” Editta hastened to chime in, “that anyone has microwaved Christmas Eve dinner.”

“The horror,” Derrick muttered. “Did somebody say ‘eggnog?’”