Page 31 of Flare Up
“Yeah.” Tommy’s daughter had outdone herself behind the bar tonight. “But I want to make sure the drinks are the only thing she regrets tomorrow.”
“You know I’ll get her home.” Gavin gave him a hard look. “But they’ve been drinking red drinks all night and eating red velvet cupcakes. If either of them gets sick in my truck, you’re paying to have it reconditioned.”
Grant cringed. “You might want to steal a bucket from the kitchen.”
After helping Wren get her arms into her coat, which was no easy task, he walked out to Gavin’s truck with them. He helped her step onto the running board and into the backseat without falling, and then fastened her seat belt for her.
“You’re so sweet,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.
“I have to work tomorrow, but I’ll text you and see how you’re doing.” He pulled her hand down because her fingers were tightening and tugging, and he didn’t want to put on a show for the others. “It won’t be too early, though.”
“Okay.”
He kissed her quickly and then slapped the back of driver’s seat. “Good luck, man.”
“You owe me,” Gavin said.
Grant laughed and, after making sure Wren was totally in, he closed the door. He could hear the women singing as the truck pulled away and he knew Gavin was going to save that IOU until he came up with a doozy.
Once the truck was out of sight, he shoved his hands in his pockets and made the walk to his Jeep. Alone.
Chapter Ten
Wren woke up in her own bed with a headache, served with a generous side of mortification as memories of last night played in her mind.
Lydia made one hell of a cocktail. Not that it was the alcohol’s fault. Wren had been having a good time and then Grant walked in and she...just lost track of how many drinks she’d had.
Thank goodness he was a gentleman. Not that she’d be sorry to be waking up in his bed this morning. Her desire for him hadn’t been the alcohol talking. It had just made her a little more expressive about the entire thing.
But it would have been an awkward morning after.
And she would have questioned whether he’d actually been ready for this relationship do-over to move to the bedroom or if he’d just taken what was very freely offered to him.
Eventually Wren forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom, where she took a quick shower and gave thanks for the bottle of ibuprofen she found in the medicine cabinet.
Then she went downstairs, not expecting to find anybody in the kitchen. Patty would have already left for work and Carter would be at school.
But Patty was seated at the table, sipping coffee. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Wren poured herself a mug of coffee and carried it to the table. “No work today?”
“I guess I’ve reached that age where getting up early after a night out with friends isn’t as easy as it used to be.” She laughed weakly. “I called in sick and went back to bed for a little while. Want some toast?”
Wren took a triangle of raisin toast from the plate Patty pushed toward her. “Thank you.”
“You guys were out late last night.” Patty smiled. “I was surprised you weren’t facedown on the couch this morning.”
“I’m so sorry. I would tell you I tried to be quiet, but that would be a lie. The cocktails Lydia was making were delicious and, apparently, I’m a lightweight. Or I can’t count. I’m still not sure what happened.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s good to let loose now and then, as long as you’re with people you trust.”
She could certainly trust Grant, though she didn’t share that tidbit with Patty.
They nibbled toast and sipped coffee in silence for a little while, listening to the morning show playing on the TV in the other room.
“What are you going to do with your fake sick day?” she asked after a bit.
Patty laughed. “I don’t know how fake it is. I’m feeling better now, but it was pretty rough when my alarm first went off. But I might do some housework. Or I might sit and watch Netflix all day. I’m not sure yet. How about you?”
