Page 22 of Let It Breathe
Reese’s gut did a swirly little flip at the mention of Clay’s name, but she kept her expression neutral. “Drinking beer and farting like old times?”
“Not that I could tell,” Sheila said as she plunked back down on the sofa beside Reese. “Well, not Clay anyway. Eric’s probably doing both, but Clay’s too busy trying to be a model citizen.”
There was a sharp note in Sheila’s voice that made Reese look up. “Not a Clay fan?”
Sheila shrugged. “Clay’s fine. I’m glad he got sober and all. I just don’t know that Eric needs that energy in his life right now.”
“Energy.” Larissa laughed. “Is that another way of saying women throw their panties at Clay and you’d rather not have Eric catching a pair?”
Sheila was spared having to answer as the doorbell chimed. Reese glanced at her watch, annoyed at whoever felt the need to drop by at nine p.m. on a weeknight.
She flung open the door. “Dick,” she said.
“Yes!” Larissa called from the couch. “I’ve been wishing there was a delivery service for dick.”
Reese ignored her and raised an eyebrow at her disgruntled-looking neighbor standing on the front porch. “Can I help you?”
“That animal is a menace!”
Reese resisted the urge to smile as Dick cupped a protective hand over his groin. Beside the house, Leon the alpaca gave a proud chortle and twitched the ear with the heart-shaped splotch. “Was he on your property?”
Dick glowered at her. “That doesn’t matter. I needed to come over to discuss official business, and that thing?—”
“Why are you here, Dick?”
“Well, for starters, would you mind informing me just where you plan to put all the cars that will be coming out for your little Memorial Day weekend event? If you think they’re going to be parking on my property?—”
“We’ve hired a horse-drawn carriage service,” Reese interrupted. “Guests will be able to park in the lower acreage, and we’ll bring them up in groups in the carriage.”
“I included that in the press release,” Larissa said, leaping off the couch and moving to the doorway so she stood shoulder to shoulder with Reese. “I sent a copy to all the other wineries we’re on friendly terms with. Oh, wait—that wouldn’t be you, would it?”
“Dick, go home,” Reese said. “We’ve got everything under control here.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really. I know you’re still pissed about my grandpa not selling you the east acreage and the fact that we won those three medals, and?—”
“And the fact that your wife ran off with your hottie winemaker,” Larissa added cheerfully. “Sorry about that.”
Dick flushed crimson, and for a moment Reese worried he might take a swing at Larissa. Instead, he tried another tack.
“You’d better make sure you have those event permits in order,” he snapped. “I have a friend who works for the county. I’m having lunch with him tomorrow. It would sure be a shame if you held an event out here without having the proper permits.”
“Goodnight, Dick,” Reese said, and shut the door in his face. She turned to Larissa. “You did get the permits, right?”
Larissa rolled her eyes. “Of course. He’s just being a—well, I was going to say dick, but that’s an insult to penises everywhere. Hey, speaking of penises?—”
“We were not speaking of penises,” Reese said.
“We could start,” Sheila called from the sofa.
Reese’s cell phone rang, and for the second time in five minutes, she felt grateful for a ringing sound saving her from an awkward conversation. She snatched the phone off the end table as Sheila and Larissa got down to the business of discussing genitals.
“Hello?” she said as she stepped into the hallway.
“Hi, Reese.”
The voice made her throat clench. Not an unpleasant sensation, and not unfamiliar, either. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped breathing until she felt herself grow dizzy.
