Sugarlips (Beefcakes Book 2) by Katana Collins (latest books to read TXT) 📕

first time in our entire friendship, Elaina’s words of caution about Tanja’s work ethic buzzed in my ears.

My best friend offered me a blindingly white smile from the other side of the couch. “We just don’t see each other much anymore,” she said, earnestly. “I miss you. I was hoping to get you out of this house for a drink or something.”

Guilt immediately circumvented the unease I felt over her work ethic. I’m a shitty friend. She misses me and I was sitting here judging her for having a social life. In reality, maybe I was just jealous. “I miss you, too,” I said honestly. Owning and running a business didn’t leave a ton of time for friends and hanging out. Liam was right. The schedule working for a bakery was nuts. My sleep schedule was way out of whack, I was always tired, I ate meals at strange times…

And I’d never been happier.

I sighed and finished the final coat of buttercup yellow on my nails, holding them up for Tanja to see. “Not bad, right? I found these colors at the pharmacy and they were only eight bucks. We could save so much money doing this at home more.”

I said that like it was some sort of magical realization when in actuality, I hadn’t been to a salon since before Dan dumped me. Or did I dump him? I didn’t even know anymore… nor did I care.

Tanja scrunched her nose and examined her long, fuchsia nails. “I guess. But I just love when they do the paraffin wax thing on my hands at the salon. And the massage… oh, I miss the massage!”

I didn’t mention that I’d seen her at the nail salon with our other friend, Bridget, last week. It wasn’t like it had been months since her last visit. “Well, maybe that can be a nice splurge now and then.” I made a mental note that one of those at-home paraffin kits might be a good Christmas gift for Tanja. Then quickly nixed the idea as I saw the disdain register on her face at merely painting her nails at home. A gift certificate to the salon would probably be more appreciated by her, anyway.

“Tell you what. Why don’t we go to Nick’s for a glass of wine after this?” I owed him a visit to pay off last week’s vouchers. He’d even started selling some of our cookies and brownies at his pizzeria. Though he hadn’t exactly apologized for our run-in that day on the news, we had managed to repair our relationship and seemed to have a good rapport now.

Tanja’s face lit up. “Then maybe Greico’s for dinner?”

I sighed and shook my head. “I’m taking Liam out to dinner tonight. He had a rough morning—”

She deflated and slowly screwed the cap back onto the bottle, her mouth twisting into a frown. “But you see him all the time.”

She wasn’t wrong. I saw Liam literally every day.

I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. I’d barely seen Tanja in over two months. “Why don’t we do brunch this weekend?” I offered her instead. I did some quick time math in my head. If I was up at four to help bake, I could slip out of Beefcakes by eleven and have a mimosa in hand before noon. I could make that work, even though I’d be exhausted. I should still even have time for a nap before we took the truck out that night.

I texted Liam, letting him know to pick me up at Nick’s rather than at my house for dinner, and ten minutes later, Tanja and I were sitting at the bar, each cradling a glass of wine between our freshly painted fingers.

We fell into our easy banter, laughing at her latest crazy stories about men she’d met while in Boston on auditions. It felt good to be with a girlfriend again. With Elaina gone, it truly had just been Liam and me consistently. And while I loved spending time with him, it didn’t change the fact that it was good to have other friends to lean on.

Nick slid over to us, leaning against the thick, lacquered bar, and topped off our wine.

I quickly covered the opening of my glass with my palm. “No more for me,” I laughed, trying to soften the edge to my voice. Going out to dinner was already a splurge tonight. I didn’t want to blow the rest of my budget, especially if Tanja and I were doing brunch on Sunday, too.

“Oh, come on.” Tanja cried and rolled her eyes, draining her glass before holding it out to Nick. “Liam won’t be here for what? Another fifteen minutes? We used to be able to polish off a bottle in that time.”

My gaze flicked to my wristlet, resting beside me on the bar. Yes, The Dump Truck was thriving and we were finally making money… but I was still playing catch up on my credit card balances that I had racked up when we first started the food truck. We were doing well, but my business classes had taught me that this wasn’t a time to get careless.

“This pour’s on me,” Nick said quietly. “My way of saying sorry for being an ass.” He wiggled the bottle at me as if to say… well? The wine sloshed along the sides of the bottle and I smiled, giving him a small nod.

He grinned—well, for Nick, it was a grin—a small twitch of his lips as he filled my glass to the brim with the deep burgundy wine. I sighed, relieved that I wouldn’t have to worry about footing the bill for another glass and thanked him.

“No problem. In fact, I was planning to give you a call. Hoping we could meet up soon.” My brows jumped as Nick filled Tanja’s glass as well. “You do marketing, right?”

“And PR. Are you in the market for a new publicity manager?”

“New?” He snorted the word. “Try first. Business is still good, but what