Mai Tai’d Up (Cocktail #4)(35)
Author: Alice Clayton

I smothered a laugh. “It’s hanging great, Viv; I’ll be glad to see you. And I’ll get your root beer.”

“See, Clark, all you have to do is ask. People will do anything for a pregnant woman.”

“I realize that, but you shouldn’t be so presumptuous as to think that Chloe will just drop everything to run out and get you—”

“She offered!”

I pressed end; they no longer even knew I was there. Once they got going, they tended to tune everyone else out. It’d be a fun weekend, they were my first houseguests. On impulse, I called Lucas.

“Hey, Rebound, how’s your day?” he answered, and I chuckled.

“You want to come over for dinner tonight? Although I should warn you, it won’t be just us.”

“I love an invitation that comes with a warning. What’s up?”

“Clark and Vivian are coming for the opening, and to check out the new litter.”

“Sounds like fun. What time?”

“Whenever—they’re getting in around five.”

“Cocktail hour. Perfect. Need me to pick anything up?”

“Nope, I’m heading into town to get the fudge for tomorrow, and I’ll grab what I need at the store while I’m there.”

“I should be finishing up here around four thirty, so I’ll head over then. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” I agreed. I hung up, wondering if he was wearing his navy blue scrubs. Mmm. I rolled down the window to get some air. Must be the weather heating up . . .

The day got away from me, as it often did when there was so much going on. I’d managed to grab a quick shower after heading back into the house from the barn, something that was always necessary after spending time with my critters. Dogs tended to smell like corn chips, and while I enjoyed a good Frito like everyone else, I didn’t want to smell like one.

As I stood in the bathroom after my five-minute shower, I looked at the bottles cluttering the counter: styling gel, pomade, thermal protectant, mousse, plumping serum; to say nothing of the teasing combs, round brushes (one inch, one and a half inch, one and three quarter inch, two and a half inch), flat irons, curling irons, and even a dusty old set of hot rollers. None of which had been touched since I’d moved to Monterey.

And let’s talk Caboodles. I had several, filled with every color eye shadow imaginable, false eyelashes, lipstick, lip gloss, lip plumping gel, lip liner, and enough blush to supply an entire dance team for the next two years. Hardly any of it touched since I came here.

I needed to get rid of all of it; it was just taking up space. When you’ve got a bunch of dogs to feed and walk and play with, your beauty routine gets whittled down to the basics. Good shampoo and conditioner, some sunscreen, and maybe a pinkish lip balm. Where it used to take me at least ninety minutes from stepping out of the shower to stepping into the car with Charles, now I could manage in twenty, if I hurried.

And I was hurrying. It was almost five o’clock, and I’d just finished toweling off my hair when I heard—

“Chloe? Hey, you here?”

“Lucas?”

“Yeah, where are you?”

“Back here, getting—”

Lucas appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, holding a bottle of wine and wearing an astonished expression.

“—dressed! Hey!” I scrambled for my towel.

“Oh, boy.” Lucas backed out of the door. Standing just outside in the hallway, he called, “Sorry!”

“Really! What the fudge, Lucas?”

“The front door was open, so I just—wow. So sorry.”

“If you wanted a peep show, you could have just asked,” I chided, hurrying into a bra and panties.

“Would that have worked?” he asked, and I poked my head around the doorframe.

“Might have,” I teased, and grinned when his eyebrows went up. “Now you’ll never know.” I disappeared and headed into my closet to grab some clothes.

“Peep show now; I’m officially requesting,” he said as I pulled on a sundress.

“Too late, that window has closed, that door has been shut,” I said, going to the door again and stretching one bare leg around the corner. “Besides, you just saw everything, right? Now there’s no mystery.”

“I saw nothing, I promise. It was like a fleshy blur and then a towel.”

“Fleshy blur—you sure know how to flatter a girl,” I scolded, and heard him groan.

“Does this help?” he asked. Seconds later his own leg, with his jeans rolled up to his knee, came around the corner.

“Nice.” I laughed, and thank goodness the next thing around the corner was his face. “Very nice.” His eyes twinkled down at me, an easy smile on his lips.

“When I said fleshy blur, I meant it in the best possible way.”

“I totally believe you.”

“Seriously, Chlo, I didn’t see anything. Which is a good thing.”

“I literally have nothing to say to that.” I frowned, reaching out and pinching his cheek. His hair was spiky and still a bit damp, from the shower, maybe? Didn’t matter, this kryptonite was pinging.

“It’s a good thing, because had I seen anything, your dinner party might have been wrecked.”

“Wrecked?”

“Wrecked. Because who knows might have happened. Your cousin could have walked in on something very different than what he was expecting.” His eyes flashed fire, and I had a sudden vision of being turned the other way in this very doorjamb, the slip of a sundress I was wearing being thrown up, and a very sexy veterinarian thrusting into me from behind.

“Fudge,” I breathed, my face suddenly flaming.

He chuckled. “Mm-hmm, exactly what I was thinking.”

Oh!

This could go two ways.

I could make a joke, back away, and let things go on as they had been. Great friends, unresolved tension.

Or, I could lean in and finish that kiss in the barn.

I . . . leaned.

He leaned.

“Chloe? We’re here!” Clark called.

Damn! I’d forgotten there was a third option.

“And where’s the bathroom? This pregnant lady needs to pee like a racehorse!”

“That’s charming, Vivian. We just got here.”

“Oh, shush, Clark, she doesn’t care about— Seriously, Chloe, where’s the bathroom?”

I turned my lean-in to a lean-on, and pressed my forehead against the column of his throat. “They’re here.”