“Count me in,” Laura said. The margaritas might not matter one way or the other, but the friendship these women had demonstrated by showing up here tonight was priceless.
J.C. had been calling Laura for hours but had yet to reach her. His conversation with Cal had worried him. He had a hunch she’d taken today’s incident at school to heart. Sure, she’d handled it with quiet strength, but the situation was far from resolved. She was bound to be worrying herself sick over Misty. He was feeling pretty stirred up about the latest twist in the situation himself.
When he couldn’t stand it another minute, he got into his car and drove over to Laura’s apartment. He arrived around ten, just in time to see Annie Townsend, Sarah McDonald and Raylene Rollins emerge from the building. They looked a little wobbly to him, too wobbly to be behind the wheel of a car.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said.
“It’s J.C.,” Annie said exuberantly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on Laura. How about you?”
“We had a margarita night at her place,” Sarah said.
He frowned. “A margarita night? What exactly is that?”
“Something Sweet Magnolias throw whenever someone needs support after a tough day,” Annie explained, seeming to choose her words carefully.
“So a fair amount of tequila has been consumed this evening,” he concluded, fighting a grin.
“A lot,” Sarah said, her head bobbing like one of those ridiculous dolls.
“I think I’ve gotten the picture,” he said. “How about I give you all a lift home? Seems to me it would be a shame if the wife of the chief of police got picked up for DUI.” He looked pointedly at Raylene when he said it.
“Not driving,” she said. “She is.” She pointed to Annie, who frowned. “Or is it Sarah? Don’t we have a designated driver?”
J.C. shook his head. “Given the universal state of wobbliness I’m seeing here, my guess is no. Come on. I’ll take you.”
The three women piled into his car without protest. They even managed to direct him to their respective homes. He dropped Raylene off last.
“I take back what I said earlier,” she said as she exited the car.
“What did you say earlier?”
“That I was on the fence about whether you were a prince or a jerk, or something like that. Turns out you’re a gentleman.” Her head bobbed approvingly. “Good for you.”
He smiled at the vote of confidence. “Thank you.”
“Doesn’t really matter what I think,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Laura thinks you’re a prince. Hurt her, though, and you’re dead meat.”
“So I’ve heard,” he said. “Good night, Raylene.”
He waited until she was safely inside, then drove back to Laura’s, uncertain what he might find when he got there. To his amazement, though her eyes were a little bright, she didn’t look as if however many margaritas she’d consumed had fazed her.
“You look none the worse for your little party,” he commented when she let him in.
“How’d you know about that?”
“I ran into the gals outside and volunteered to take them home. They had no business getting behind the wheel of a car.”
“That was so sweet of you,” she said.
“Oh, I’m a prince, all right,” he said. “At least that’s what Raylene claimed the vote had been earlier in the evening.”
A blush climbed up Laura’s neck and flooded her cheeks. “She told you that?”
“Alcohol tends to loosen tongues,” he reminded her. “By the way, she changed her vote. I thought I should tell you that, in case it makes a difference to you.”
“Really?”
“She says I’m a real gentleman, after all.”
“Wow! Impressive. She was a holdout earlier.”
He stepped closer, reaching out to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. His touch lingered on her flushed cheek. “Did her opinion matter?”
She held his gaze and shook her head. “Not to me.”
“I’m thinking I might not want to be a gentleman much longer,” he admitted. “What would you think about that?”
She swallowed hard, but she didn’t look away. “I’m thinking there might be times when being a gentleman is highly overrated.”
He smiled. “Good to know.”
“Were you thinking of making such a dramatic change tonight?” she inquired, a breathless note in her voice.
“I was, but the margarita thing has me thinking my timing is really off. I want you to make this decision with a clear head.”