Gluttony

“Yeah,” Star la interrupted. “It happens. But the song’s not bad-ever think about switching it up in the bridge, have your drummer shift to 4/4 and then maybe jumping a key?”

To Beth, it all sounded like a foreign language. But Reed suddenly brightened up. “That’s not bad,” he mused. “Fish, you get that?”

“Yeah, I heard. Could work.”

“And I was thinking, maybe in that first verse…”

Beth tuned out. She stared at the floor. Counted the lights in the ceiling. Tried not to notice that Reed and Star la looked like a matching pair in their vintage tees and black denim, while Beth looked like a refugee from a J. Crew clearance sale. She’d always thought that belly button piercings looked kind of slutty, but on Star la… well, slutty, yes. But she couldn’t help notice that Reed’s eyes kept dropping down to the glint of silver that poked out above her low-riding jeans. Stop worrying, she told herself. Reed isn’t Adam. He would never…

She didn’t even want to put it into words, because that might make it real.

“Beth, sound okay to you?”

“What?” He was looking at her again, waiting for an answer. But to what?

“Star la’s done here and she says she can show us some bar downtown where all the locals hang out. You want to?” Reed had never expected anything from her before, but now it was clear: He expected an answer, and he expected it to be a yes.

“I don’t have my ID on me,” she said hesitantly, thankful that it was true.

“No problem.” Star la grinned. “This isn’t an ID kind of place. You’ll see.”

“Beth?” Reed curled his arm around her waist and tugged her toward him. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to, but…”

“No. Sounds great,” she said, hoping she seemed sincere. She’d wanted to help him, and if this is what it took to cheer him up-if Starla cheered him up, with her stupid piercings and her tattoos and her oh-so-happening bar scene-then that’s what it took. Tonight wasn’t about Beth; it was about Reed. She had no reason to feel threatened, she reminded herself. And even if she did, she wasn’t going to let that stand in his way.

Chapter 6

They strode up to the hotel check-in desk hand in hand, identical love-struck smiles painted on their faces. “This is a bad idea,” Adam muttered out of the side of his mouth, trying not to let the happy expression falter.

“It’s our best shot,” Harper countered, through gritted teeth. “Just act happy.”

“I’m not that good an actor.”

Estie hadn’t been able to help them with the concert tickets, but she had offered them a lead: The hotel that was hosting the concert often reserved a few free event passes for especially cute honeymooners.

So here they were, glowing with fake love and walking on artificial sunshine. A chipper brunette named Margie-at least, according to her I’M MARGIE, TELL ME HOW I CAN HELP name tag- greeted them at the desk.

“Yes?” she asked.

They’d agreed it would be best not to come right out and ask for the tickets, at least not at first. Better to be so insufferably adorable that Margie had no choice but to reward them.

“We just wanted to thank y’all for letting us stay in your lovely hotel on our special weekend,” Harper said, the Southern accent pouring out before she realized what she was doing. “Sweetie pie here is just loving every minute of it.” She nuzzled her face into Adam’s neck-pausing for a moment to enjoy the familiar scent, woodsy and clean. It had been so long since they’d…

No. This was no time for sappy love-struck nostalgia: It was a time for romance.

“I could just take you back to the room right now,” she murmured, then turned back to Margie, confiding, “We’ve barely left the room all weekend. You know how it is.”

The look on Margie’s face said no, she didn’t know how it was, nor did she want to. “Glad you’re enjoying your stay with us,” she said tentatively. “So this is a special weekend for you?”

“Me and the wife just got hitched!” Adam said, lifting Harper up and whirling her around. “She’s my wife! Woo!”

Harper resisted the urge to smack him. She’d said act cute, adorable-not wasted. He was acting like he was at a tailgate party. Though she had to admit, it was indeed pretty damn cute.

“So, newly weds,” Margie said, sounding less than enthused. “Congratulations.”

Harper gave Adam a quick kiss on the cheek. “I wanted a simple church wedding, back home, but my man here, he’s just obsessed.”

“Obsessed?” Adam and Margie asked together.

“With Elvis. So of course we just had to come to Vegas and get hitched at the Hunka Hunka Chapel of Love, and you”-she dug her finger gently into Adam’s chest-“looked so handsome in your white jumpsuit and those sexy sunglasses.”

“Well, uh”-Adam gave her his best Elvis lip-curl-“thank you, thank you very much.” Beneath the counter, Adam gave Harper a quick pinch just above the hip, and she bit her lip to keep from squealing. He knew that was where she was most ticklish; he was trying to make her laugh. It wasn’t going to work. “I’m just sorry about last night,” he said.

“Uh, last night?”

“You know.” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “When we were in bed and… I called you Priscilla.”

Now Harper nearly did laugh. But, instead, she gave him a light slap across the face. “You’re going to bring that up in front of a stranger?” she cried. “You know I’ll never be able to measure up to her. I try and I try, I got the implants and the new hairdo and-”

“Give it a rest, guys,” Margie snapped, the help-me-help-you grin gone from her face.

“What?” Harper asked, trying to look innocent.

“You heard about the free tickets for newlyweds, right? You think you’re the first couple to try this?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re just the worst.”

Harper glanced at Adam, briefly considered trying to bluff it out, then shrugged in defeat. “So much for my acting career.” She hoped she sounded sufficiently breezy. It wouldn’t do to let either of them know how much she’d been counting on these tickets-how she’d decided that one grand gesture for Miranda would, just maybe, erase everything Harper had done to her this year, and let them start fresh. And more than that-chasing down the tickets had helped distract her from thing things that actually mattered. But that was over now.

She tugged at Adam’s shirt. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He shook her off and planted his hands on the fake wooden desk. “Isn’t there