The Many Dates of Indigo

CHAPTER ONE

I'm over this shit, Indigo thought to herself as she watched Saxon rip the pink wrapping paper off the umpteenth gift like the Hulk's sister. Only it wasn't Bruce Banner's sibling; it was hers. It wasn't her older sister's glee as she gushed over another set of pastel booties that had caused Indigo's current irritation. It was the glances and whispers she'd received while being the dutiful daughter.

Months shy of her thirtieth birthday—almost three months, to be exact—concerns for her health and well-being had shifted to interest in her relationship status and womb. No, her family didn't just outright ask her who she was dating or when she was planning to get pregnant. There were subtle hints cast here and there.

"Indigo just loves the single life," Aunt Maureen whispered to her cluster of church friends. There was a big nugget of truth in the statement. Indigo did love being single. Being able to do what she wanted, go where she wanted, eat where she wanted, and not have to let another soul know every detail of her weekly or daily plans was bliss for an independent spirit like her, but it was growing tiresome. She wanted someone to care about her itinerary and yearn to be added to her schedule permanently. She was also growing tired of being ultra-independent. She loved being a boss and taking care of business, but she also craved being pampered, adored, and loved.

"Still no ring," Cousin Tracy harped as she inspected Indigo's left hand after giving her a bear hug. That one hurt because even though Indigo prided herself on being an original, she had had an engagement ring picked out before the age of ten. It had happened during a simple stroll down the sidewalk of the River Oaks shopping district. She and her best friend, Tate, had walked behind their mamas, who'd talked about whatever adults talked about in the '90s, when a glimmer from a sizable cushion-cut diamond ring in the window of a jewelry store captivated all of her interest. Her mama calling her name snatched her out of her trance, but she never forgot the gem.

Sure, she had a bank account fat enough to buy herself the ring, but she wanted all the things the ring and the moment stood for. She wanted a man who would be her partner for their lives' journeys, and her past search to find one had left her with scars.

Presently, Indigo was on her third glass of wine and considered drinking straight from the bottle. Instead of risking a hangover, she snuck out of the living room. As she put distance between herself and the overcrowded room of cooing women, she felt the pressure fall off her shoulders. She sought refuge in Saxon's kitchen, the place she'd spent many evenings before buying a house in the same community, needing the sweetness of freshly baked desserts for a sugar high.

In all his six-foot mocha glory, her brother, Harrison, stood by the island, whipping pink food coloring into creamy, pillowy frosting. A platter of vanilla cupcakes sat in front of him, causing Indigo's mouth to water. She wanted to snatch one immediately but knew to wait. He hated when people tried his treats before they were finished. Presentation was everything to him. Ensuring people and things looked beautiful was something they shared.

"I thought you would've left by now." He judged the tint of the pinkness and decided to add some more into the bowl.

"I thought you weren't coming," Indigo groaned, climbing atop the barstool.

"I wasn't," he declared. Being the only brother had perks, but being the only baker in the family had drawbacks. "But Saxon ambushed me at the bakery and had a meltdown." He stopped stirring to give Indigo a fake smile. "So, I'm here. I had to cancel my date because of your sister."

"Our sister," she corrected before taking another swallow from the almost empty glass. "Wait! You had a date?" she asked, getting a nod from her little brother, the youngest of the trio. "With the Tinder chick?"