“Pretty impressive memory, sis.”
Grace laid a gentle hand on her arm. “I remember because you were right. You said it would be sad if the guys never knew I loved them or they never took the chance to tell me themselves.”
Charity chuckled, remembering her slight duplicity that night, speaking those words to Grace but intending them for Jack, Ethan, and Adam who sat right outside an open kitchen window. They’d heard nearly every word that was spoken but they’d been afraid to make a move for fear of alerting Grace and embarrassing her.
Grace said, “And it worked out for me.”
Charity recalled the certainty she’d felt once she’d realized the guys could hear what they were talking about. She knew Grace was so shy, she’d never tell the men who’d obviously adored her, how she felt on her own. And who knew how long the three of them would take to clue her in, if ever. Yeah, she’d been meddling a bit but it’d all turned out well for Grace and the guys. Better than all right. Grace was the picture of happiness if one overlooked the pregnancy-induced exhaustion and lingering nausea.
Grace sipped her ginger ale and said, “What I recall best was your reply when I told you that I hadn’t acted on the attraction because there was no way I could choose one over the others. Remember?”
“I said a lot of stuff. We consumed a bottle of sangria during that conversation if I remember correctly,” she fibbed, remembering her exact words.
“You said, ‘I’d be on them like white on rice, any way they wanted me.’”
Charity sighed. “But I also remember telling you that they’d have me eating out of their hands if I wasn’t married with a family. Sis, I know where you’re going with this but I’m married. I’m the mom of nearly grown kids. Look at those guys. They’re virile, in their prime. They’ve already been approached by a couple of women just since we got here. Why would they want a woman fast approaching middle age?”
Rachel snorted with laughter and then butted in. “Middle age? You, Charity? What a crock of horseshit. There isn’t a hotter woman in here. You’re in your sexual prime and they’d have to start working out”—she shot a glance at the guys—“or working out harder just to keep up with your sexy ass. Please do not say shit like that and not expect to be called on it.”
Jayne snickered and said, “Rachel sounded a whole lot like you for a second there, cuz, but she’s right. Nobody would ever guess you had two practically grown kids. Look at you. You take good care of yourself and you’re hot. What are y’all talking about?” she added, presumably as an afterthought, and hiccupped as she licked at the salt on the rim of her nearly empty margarita glass.
Rachel said, “We were doing our best to not observe the way Val and Ransome have been eye-fucking Charity from across the room in the mirror. And we butted in on Grace and Charity’s mostly private conversation about how she secretly has the hots for those two badasses and wants to get naked with them and Justin.”
Jayne choked on her drink and Charity was sure Grace was about to fall out of her chair, she was laughing so hard.
“Who wants to get naked with Justin?” Maya asked as she and Lydia returned from the ladies’ room.
Lydia’s eyes got big and she scanned the room and then glared across the club. “Is it that blonde gold digger in the corner? I wouldn’t put it past her. I still want to kick her ass every time I see her.”
Grace and Charity craned their necks, and Charity saw who Lydia was referring to. Presley Ann Woodworth was all wrapped up in the gaze of an extraordinarily sexy but unfamiliar cowboy who was dressed in black. “No, we weren’t talking about Presley Ann, Lydia, but thank you for being willing to protect Justin’s virtue,” Charity said with a snort. “And hey, private conversation here. Lower your voices, please. There’s really nothing to talk about.”
Lydia curled her lip and pointed at the couple, who had risen from their seats and were making their way toward the door. “Look at her. I’ll give her this much, she can spot a man with money. Someone should warn that rich cowboy that’s all she wants him for. He probably owns that big, fancy black rig out in the parking lot.”
Rachel patted Lydia’s shoulder and said, “Down, girl. He looks like he can defend himself. She was making him laugh earlier. Maybe he really likes her.”
Lydia growled, “Only if he doesn’t really know her. Sorry. I know I’m being bitchy, but you would, too, if she’d been eyeing your man and his twin brother, not really caring which one she landed. She makes me mad just looking at her in those designer heels and clothes that she doesn’t have to work to pay for.”