Page 24 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“Are you ladies trying to catch my husband’s eye?” Phoebe teased, slipping her arm around her husband’s waist. She was sixty, but her happy glow made her look a decade younger.
“Can’t help it, Phoebe,” Eden confessed. “Franklin is irresistible.”
“Women throw themselves at me,” Franklin confirmed with a chuckle.
“Well, as long as you don’t throw yourself back,” Phoebe winked up at him. “I hear there was some excitement out your way this week, Eden. We could smell it all the way out at the farm.”
“You should smell the inn,” Eden told them. “It’s lucky the damage wasn’t worse.”
“I heard Davis was injured,” Franklin added. The man served half the town their lunch and would have all the details by now.
“A bump on the head and a mild concussion,” Eden said, trying to evict the image of Davis stripping in front of her from her mind. It wasn’t working.
“And you’re putting him up. That’s very generous of you,” Phoebe said, laying a motherly hand on Eden’s shoulder. Phoebe was too nice to point out that it was surprising that Eden would be willing to lend a helping hand to a man she disliked.
“It’s just temporary,” Eden reiterated. “I’m sure he’ll be back in his house soon.”Please, God.
“Well, we’re all proud of you for stepping up for him. I know you two don’t have the smoothest history,” Phoebe said.
“Thanks,” Eden mumbled.
The Merrills left them to their breadsticks and conversation.
Sammy wiggled her eyebrows at Eden. “So?”
“So, what?”
“What’s it like having your sworn enemy living under your roof?”
“Do we have to talk about this?” Eden sighed.
“Is he doing okay? That was quite the head wound,” Layla said.
Eden’s lips quirked before she could stop them.God, he’d been cute. All disoriented, vulnerable. Naked.
“What’s that?” Sammy demanded leaning in.
“What’s what?”
“Your face, Eden. What’s it doing? You look like you just thought of a yummy secret.”
Eden ran her tongue over her teeth debating keeping her little tidbit to herself. But this was why she had these women in her life. “Okay, but this is Fort Knox-level stuff here.”
Layla scooted her chair closer. “I love Fort Knox shit.”
“Let me just make it very clear that I still intensely dislike the man,” Eden prefaced.
Sammy nodded with enthusiasm. “So noted.”
“And this doesn’t change those feelings at all.”
Layla leaned forward. “If you don’t spill it now, I’m going to get my Taser out.”
“So, he might have been a little confused by the head wound thing,” Eden began. “And he might have stripped naked in front of me.”
Sammy’s jaw hit the table, and Layla slapped an open palm down next to the basket of breadsticks. “No friggin’ way,” she hissed.
“Details. Let’s talk measurements,” Sammy insisted, snatching a breadstick out of the basket and waving it in front of Eden’s face.
