“Do your friends know you’re back? Are they expecting you?”
She came up with some black jeans, a pair of gorgeous leather boots and a turquoise sweater she’d bought with Simon’s credit card at the mall. It was an attractive outfit—one that made the most of a slender figure. Maybe she’d known these people for years and their opinion wasn’t likely to change, but she wanted to look decent. She certainly didn’t want her husband to outshine her, although that was pretty much a given.
“No. My dad’s the only person I told,” she said. “And he’s the one person in this town you can trust to keep what you tell him quiet. Everyone except Joe is on a ‘need to know’ basis.” Callie had tried to reach her several times, but except for a few texts saying she was happy and not to ruin it for her, she hadn’t responded. She hadn’t been ready to deal with Callie’s reaction to the news of her marriage. But she’d be doing that this morning—with all her friends.
Checking over her shoulder to make sure Simon still had his head under the pillow, she faced the corner to change. But a second after her tank top hit the floor, the clarity of his voice indicated he was looking right at her.
“Okay, that’s going too far.”
She glanced at him again. He was watching her with predatory interest. The intensity of his expression lit a fire inside her, but she did her best to shrug it off. “Surely you’ve seen a woman’s bare back before.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one as tempting as yours.”
“Getting desperate already?” She laughed to let him know she wasn’t convinced he was remotely sincere, and he didn’t argue with her. But when he spoke again, the gruff edge to his voice left no question as to how her near-nudity affected him.
“Turn around.”
It was a challenge, a command. She told herself she’d be crazy to respond. They’d just gone over all the reasons they had to be careful not to let their situation get too complicated. But categorizing their relationship as affectionate friends somehow took the pressure off. It made her feel safe, as if she could relax a little now that they’d recommitted themselves to the rules.
“Just for a second,” he coaxed.
He did sound desperate. And she was tempted. Especially when she considered that over the course of the next two years they’d probably see each other in various stages of undress all the time. It wouldn’t be a catastrophe if he caught a glimpse of her now, would it?
Telling herself to lighten up and do something wild and exciting for a change, she hesitated. She’d always been too conservative, and she’d never felt more like a stereotypical librarian than since she’d started hanging out with Simon.
Innocent. Straitlaced. Inflexible. Those were the words Simon had used to describe her....
Determined to shake him up a bit, she turned while she had the nerve.
His expression was worth it. She’d shocked him—just as she’d intended.
“God,” he whispered as his gaze latched onto her br**sts.
She didn’t stick around long enough to find out what he might say or do next. Suddenly willing to risk having her brother or father catch her sneaking into the bathroom to change, she put on her sweater, grabbed her bra and jeans and fled.
* * *
That was a mistake.
It took Simon all of ten minutes to get his heart rate to return to normal. He should never have baited Gail. He’d mostly been teasing when he’d thrown out that challenge, had done it to see how she might react. She was so prim and proper; it was fun just to make her blush.
Never had he expected her to turn and show him her br**sts....
And now he couldn’t get the vision out of his mind.
She’d certainly gotten the last laugh in that encounter.
She knocked softly, then opened the door and poked her head through. “You coming?”
“Gail…” he started.
She raised her eyebrows. “What?”
She was pretending it had never happened. Considering what they’d discussed last night, it was probably best if he did, too.
“Never mind,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”
17
For all of Whiskey Creek’s old-fashioned charm, the coffee shop felt current. It listed the menu on a chalkboard, boasted of selling only fair-trade coffee, used organic beans and offered chai and other options. Several people sat with laptops at small round tables, taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.
“Now this feels like home.” Simon breathed deep, enjoying the comforting scent of fresh-ground coffee as the door swept shut behind them.
Gail didn’t respond. She was too busy searching the crowd.
She waved to a group sitting in one of two large booths. “There they are. Over in the corner. Looks like…” She angled her head to see them all. “Ted, Eve, Callie, Cheyenne, Riley and…oh, boy. Sophia.”
“What’s wrong with Sophia?” Simon asked.
She lowered her voice. “No one likes her.”
“Maybe no one will like me, either.”
“Don’t worry.” She patted his back. “This won’t be as painful as you’re expecting.”
“Why would I expect it to be painful? Meeting your family was such fun.”
She nudged him. “Stop with the sarcasm.”
Her friends quickly spotted her.
“Oh, my gosh! Gail’s home!”
“Where?”
“Look…and she’s brought Simon!”
“Here we go,” she murmured. “I hope your acting’s up to par.”
He wished he hadn’t left his sunglasses behind. He didn’t care if it was too dark inside the café to bother with them. The world he was living in since Gail had started this latest PR campaign felt so much more up-close and in his face. “Hey, I’m a pro, remember?”
By that point, everyone in the coffee shop had turned to stare. But Simon was used to attracting attention. Pretending not to notice, he waited for Gail to order, then asked for an espresso. She hurried over to her friends while he paid, leaving him to approach them on his own, but she’d been right. Joining the group wasn’t nearly as awkward as he’d initially feared, once the suddenness of their marriage had been handled and they moved on to other topics.
Fortunately, these people weren’t as obvious in their disapproval as Gail’s brother and father had been. A few of them sent Simon sidelong glances, as if they weren’t sure what to make of his presence, but they smiled politely if he caught their eye and shifted their attention—to whoever was speaking or their coffee or fruit and yogurt.