Chapter Seventeen
M eg wasn't used to air-conditioning, and with only a sheet covering her, she got chilly during the night. She curled against Ted, and when she opened her eyes, it was morning.
She rolled to her side to study him. He was as irresistible asleep as awake. He had the best kind of bed head, a little flat here, a little spiky there, and her fingers itched to sort it out. She studied the distinct tan line across his bicep. No respectable Southern California glamour boy would be caught dead with a tan line like that, but Ted wouldn't spare it a thought. She pressed her lips to it.
He rolled to his back, dragging part of the sheet with him, and stirring up the musky scent of their sleeping bodies. She was instantly aroused, but she needed to be at the club soon, and she forced herself out of bed. By now, everyone would know all about what had happened at the luncheon yesterday, and it wouldn't occur to any of them to blame Ted for that kiss. A day full of problems stretched in front of her.
She was stocking the cart for the Tuesday morning women golfers when Torie emerged from the locker room. With her ponytail swinging, she marched toward Meg and, in typical Torie fashion, got down to business. "Obviously, you can't stay at the church after what happened, and you sure can't stay at Ted's, so we all decided the best thing is for you to move into Shelby's guest suite. I lived there between my first two unfortunate marriages. It's private and comfortable, plus it has its own kitchen, something you wouldn't have if you stayed with Emma or me." She set off for the pro shop, ponytail bouncing, and then called over her shoulder, "Shelby's expecting you by six. She gets upset when people are late."
"Hold on!" Meg stalked after her. "I'm not moving into your childhood home."
Torie planted her hand on her hip, looking as serious as Meg had ever seen her. "You can not stay at Ted's."
Meg already knew that, but she hated being ordered around. "Contrary to popular belief, none of you get a vote. And I'm going back to the church."
Torie snorted. "Do you really think he'll let you do that after what happened?"
"Ted doesn't let me do anything." She stomped back to the cart. "Thank Shelby for her generosity, but I've made my plans."
Torie came after her. "Meg, you can't move in with Ted. You really can't."
Meg pretended not to hear and drove off.
She wasn't up to working on her jewelry while she waited for customers, so she pulled out a copy of American Earth she'd borrowed from Ted, but not even the words of the country's most astute environmentalists could hold her attention. She set the book aside as the first foursome of women appeared.
"Meg, we heard about the break-in."
"You must have been terrified."
"Who do you think did it?"
"I'll bet they wanted to get to your jewelry."
She scooped ice into paper cups, poured drinks, and answered their questions as briefly as she could. Yes, it was scary. No, she didn't have any idea who'd done it. Yes, she intended to be a lot more careful in the future.
When the next foursome appeared, she heard more of the same, but it still didn't sink in right away. Only after they were all out on the fairway did it occur to her that not one of those eight women had mentioned Ted's kiss at the luncheon or his declaration that he and Meg were a couple.
She didn't understand it. The women in this town loved nothing more than to pry into other people's business, especially Ted's, so politeness wasn't holding them back. What was going on?
She didn't put the pieces together until the next foursome began pulling their carts up to the tee. And then she understood.
None of the women she'd spoken to had been at the luncheon, and they didn't know. The twenty guests who'd witnessed what had happened had formed a conspiracy of silence.
She sank back into the cart and tried to imagine the telephone lines buzzing last night. She could hear each of Francesca's guests swearing on her Bible, or the latest issue of InStyle magazine, not to breathe a word to anyone. Twenty gossipy Wynette women had taken a vow of silence. It couldn't last, not under normal circumstances. But where Ted was concerned, it just might.
She served the next group, and sure enough, they only talked about the break-in, with no mention of Ted. But that changed half an hour later when the final group, a twosome, pulled up. As soon as she saw the women getting out of the cart, she knew this conversation would be different. Both of them had been at the luncheon. Both of them had seen what had transpired. And they were both coming toward her with decidedly unfriendly grimaces on their faces.