Page 59 of Once Smitten, Twice Shy

Kate smiles sheepishly. “I got swept up in the moment.”

While their verbal volley continues bouncing across me, I watch Will lift his shirt by the collar, dragging it over his face to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Thank God we don’t own binoculars, because I’m not sure I’d have the strength not to use them.

Even without binoculars, I can see the general impression of a hard stomach, a line of hair arrowing beneath his waistband that glows copper in the sun.

A whimper leaks out of me. I try to cover it with a cough. Kate whacks me on the back. “Mimosa down the wrong pipe?”

“Yep,” I squeak.

Kate keeps distractedly whacking my back, her eyes on Christopher. I pluck her hand away and set it on the arm of her chair.

“You good there, KitKat?” Bea asks.

“Very.” Kate makes a noise that puts her orgasmic cupcake appreciation sound to shame. “Goddamn, my boyfriend’s hot.”

Bea and I shudder. Christopher’s like a brother to us. We don’t want to hear that.

“So.” Bea sips from the champagne thermos and sets it on her thigh. “I feel like I have done a very good job all week ofnotasking you about Will Orsino—”

Kate’s head snaps our way as she shouts, “Wait, what?!”

“Shh!” I smack her shoulder. “You’re screaming.”

“What,” Kate asks, leaning in, her voice not nearly quiet enough for my taste, given the subject matter, “is going on with you andWill?”

“Nothing!” I tell her. I turn and glare at Bea, then say for emphasis, “Nothing.”

Bea shrugs, sipping more mimosa. “He stayed after game night last Sunday to help JuJu clean up.”

Kate lets out a whistle. “Voluntarily? He definitely wants in your pants.”

“Oh my gosh, you two.” I throw up my hands, exasperated. “We just hit it off as friends. We’re enjoying a single mingle. That’s it.”

“Hmm.” Bea glances back down at the court and glides a hand over her pet hedgehog, tucked into her cross-body carrier, his little nose peeking over the edge as he sniffs the air. “I know, Cornelius, I noticed that, too.”

“What?” I ask.

Bea says, “He’s a strawberry-blond hunk. You have a thing for redheads.”

“So, just because he’s a redhead, I must want in his pants?”

Bea turns and gives me a look. “You’re telling me you don’t want a thing to do with that tall, hot drink of spiced apple cider out there?”

I groan in frustration. I hate lying to my sisters, but I don’t want to tell them the truth, either. I know they wouldn’t judge me, that they’d support what I’m doing with Will. But our plan, what I’m trying to do with his help, it feels…tender. This work to finally move myself forward, to get ready to put myself out there romantically again, it feels like something that’s just supposed to be mine and Will’s.

Bea misreads my silence and gives me a campy grin. “Come on. You can’t tell me that wasn’t funny. ‘Tall, cool, drink of water’? Tall, hot drink of spiced apple cider?”

I give her a nonplussed stare.

Bea mutters to Cornelius, “Tough crowd.”

Kate says, “Let’s workshop it.” She taps her pursed lips. “Ooh, I’ve got it. How about, a ‘tall, hot shot of Fireball.’ ”

Kate and Bea cackle in tandem.

I give them a death glare that shuts them up promptly. They both school their expressions as they glance back out at the court. I’m relieved to see the guys shaking hands, slapping backs. The game’s over. I made it through without spontaneously combusting. I feel like I ran a marathon.

“Well,” Kate says, slapping her hands onto the arms of her chair and standing up, “that’s a wrap. I’m gonna go check on the egg casserole.”

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