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 he teased, reading the catalog apron’s outdated declaration.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?’”