"Oh, I wasn't," she says dismissively. "I mean, it was a nice effort … bonus points and all that. And sure … I gave him a stellar blow job in appreciation, but-"
"Okay," I blurt out, repressing the urge to slap my hands over my ears. "I do not want to hear that. You're like my little sister, for God's sake."
I hear Andrea giggle beside me, and Gabby's arms uncross as she looks like this could start to get interesting.
Casey just stares straight at me, completely disregarding my request. "Well, we didn't invite you here, Wyatt, and sorry … but this is what girls talk about. If you can't handle the fact that I like sex with wealthy men, and I like it a lot, and I also like to share the deets with my bestie girls, then you need to just leave."
I snap my mouth shut, because I know my jaw had sunk almost down level with my collarbone over her proclamation. I look around the table, and each woman stares back at me with resolve. I am encroaching on their girl time, and if I'm going to be a temporary member of their little gang this morning, I need to accept the things they talk about.
Turning to Andrea briefly, I narrow my eyes at her. "What exactly have you shared with the girls about us?"
She smiles at me sweetly and pats me on the knee. "Nothing other than how we met."
I let out a breath of relief because the way we met was highly unconventional and the ways in which we "explored" our attraction to each other before we left Raleigh still causes me to feel guilty. It's not something we've talked about but that will get rectified before she leaves.
Rewarding her with a relieved smile, I turn back to Casey and sweep my hand out in a grand gesture. "Then by all means … continue on with your story."
And she does.
For the next five minutes, I listen to Casey give the details about some young, rich playboy who is yachting down the coast and who she apparently had a very raunchy time with last night. According to Casey, he's the perfect man because he's rich, hung like a racehorse-which fuck … that caused me to blush-and most importantly to her, he was leaving town today.
I always knew Casey shunned relationships, preferring men to come and go out of her life like a revolving door. I have no clue where that stems from because she has a wonderful home life with devoted, loving parents and two brothers that have fallen deeply in love. She has a lot to offer, but I have to wonder … what is it keeping her from settling down?
It's slightly disconcerting to hear that she slept with this guy without even really knowing him, but then I feel like a neon sign with a big arrow that says, "Hypocrite" is pointed down at me. I know I've certainly had my share of one-night stands, as has Hunter. Brody … not so much as he spent five years in prison and then fell in love with Alyssa, but still … I know it's generally acceptable for men to be able to sleep around, and they're just considered studs. Women do it, and they're called whores.
But that doesn't set right … not when I'm looking across the table at Casey. I don't see her as that. Instead, I just see her as an incredibly strong, mature, and liberated woman who believes that whatever is good for the goose is good for the gander.
It's hard to argue with that line of thinking.
Luckily, this group of women now includes Alyssa and Savannah, who have babies, and the talk eventually turns to that. That's definitely more along the lines of what I prefer the women discuss, but even that turns boring to me.
Not because I have anything against kids. On the contrary, I love them to distraction and dote on my nieces and nephews. I want at least two myself, but my limit would be four.
But this is boring me because as Andrea sits next to me, her hand casually resting on my thigh, all I can think about is getting her alone again.
To fuck, to talk, to cuddle, to walk along the beach, to laugh.
All the things we have been doing oh so damn well since she arrived.
I want more of it, and time is ticking.
But I don't drag her out, and I continue to add into the conversation when I can. I do that because she's having a good time with the girls, and I'm not about to take that away from her.
Besides, I like knowing she's so accepted into our crowd. I like that she likes that as well. It means that our foundation keeps building steadily.
Breakfast is ordered … it's served, and I eat it quickly and without taking my eyes off my plate so that poison and/or laxatives are not placed on my food. I laugh when appropriate, and I watch Andrea start to make new friends, grateful that it's another way to cement her to me.
Chapter 22
Andrea
Wyatt walks out on the back deck, a bottle of wine tucked under his arm and two glasses held tight by the stems in one hand. With the other, he pulls the sliding door closed.