Boy and girl parts, too.
Arms, legs, butts, breasts.
Arms, legs, butts, and breasts moving, rocking, groping, groaning.
Christ!
Sarah closed the door quickly, quietly, praying that they hadn’t heard her. Or seen her.
But maybe she should have made a noise. Maybe she should make them stop.
Sarah was massively conflicted. Meg would freak if she thought JJ was having sex, in her house, during Jack’s funeral reception.
But . . .
It was also JJ’s dad’s funeral reception, and apparently this was how he felt comforted.
But Sarah wished she hadn’t seen it. JJ naked, orgasmic, his room reeking of weed . . .
If Meg discovered them . . .
No, Sarah wouldn’t go there, and she most definitely wasn’t going to get in the middle of this one.
She was halfway down the stairs when she spotted Kit at the foot, arms crossed over her chest, expression worried.
“Everything okay?” Sarah asked, aware that things with Kit were still on the tense side, and still not totally sure how to fix them.
“Yes.”
But Kit looked stressed and it troubled Sarah. “Are you sure?”
Kit hesitated. “Yes.” She forced a smile and tucked a dark red tendril behind her ear. “Thanks.”
“Kit,” Brianna said, walking through the front door, her black dress swimming on her small frame, “your man’s outside, on the phone. He wanted me to tell you he’ll be in soon. Or as soon as he can. Something like that.”
“Oh.” Kit looked somewhat relieved. “Okay.”
“Speaking of men . . .” Brianna’s voice trailed off. “Do either of you know who the guy is outside, talking to Meg?”
“Where?” Sarah asked.
“There,” Brianna answered, drawing Sarah toward the open front door.
Kit followed and glanced toward the far end of the porch, where Meg stood talking to a tall, good-looking man in black trousers and a white dress shirt.
“Who is that?” Brianna demanded.
“Chad,” Kit said.
Brianna’s eyes widened. “The Chad?”
“Yep.” A smile hovered at Kit’s lips. “Cute, huh?”
Way more than cute, Sarah thought, jostling for a better position in the doorway, wanting a closer look. So this was the infamous Chad Hallahan. Dark blond, thick wavy hair, light eyes, a deep tan. Muscles, too.
Kind of like a baseball player.
Hot.
“Gorgeous,” Bree said, whistling appreciatively. “He’s definitely got the whole Robert Redford thing going, doesn’t he?”
“I don’t see it,” Sarah said.
“Young Redford, from the sixties and seventies.”
“I wasn’t born until the late seventies,” Sarah reminded her.
“I know, but you’ve seen his films. The Sting, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, All the President’s Men . . .” Brianna paused to take a breath.
“The Great Gatsby,” Kit added.
“The Natural!” Sarah put in.
Kit smiled. “You would know the baseball one.”
“I think I’ve seen every baseball movie ever made,” Sarah admitted.
Kit nodded in Meg and Chad’s direction. “So what do you think he’s saying to her?”
“He’s probably telling her how sorry he is,” Bree said. “That he’s here for her, that he’s always been here for her, and if she should need anything, all she just has to do is call.” Her lips twitched. “You know, boring stuff like that.”
Kit folded her arms across her chest. “But she’s not going to call him. It’s over.”
Brianna looked disappointed. “You really think so?”
Sarah nodded. “Meg told me just last week it’d been a big mistake, that he wasn’t the right one for her.”
“She said the same thing to me,” Kit added.
Brianna’s eyebrows rose. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
Sarah tuned Brianna out, focusing instead on Meg and Chad, because it was impossible not to.
Just as it was impossible to ignore Chad’s body language.
He stood close to Meg, very close, clearly concerned about her.
Suddenly Meg’s shoulders shook and her head bowed. Chad started to reach for her, but then drew back and buried his hands in his pockets, his expression tortured.
He still cared for Meg, Sarah thought.
He might even still love her.
She turned away. “I need a drink.”
* * *
Sarah made her way to the far end of the dining room where a small bar had been set up. The young male bartender she had seen earlier was gone, replaced by a pretty woman with long brown hair who was opening a bottle of red wine.
Sarah leaned on the counter. She recognized the label. Dark Horse Winery. Glancing at the row of bottles, she saw they all had the Dark Horse label.