“You don’t know that,” he finally said, realizing he sounded more petulant than persuasive.
She snorted, a sound that, as much as Drake hated to admit it, sounded cute. “Well I do know that you came into the kitchen while I was working to try to get me to go out with you after the wedding. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t mean just for drinks.”
“That’s exactly what I meant. To apologize.”
“You mean for the unsolicited kiss?”
“Exactly.”
She gave him a dubious look. “You wanted it to be more than drinks. Admit it.”
“No,” he said. “Because that isn’t true.”
She made another face, one that hinted at dimples at either side of her mouth and made her lips look utterly kissable. His dick hardened more and poked out in front of him like Pinocchio’s nose when telling a lie.
He was telling a lie, too, and they both knew it.
But instead of continuing this conversation, which just appeared to be getting him in more and more trouble, he said, “I need to find some pants.”
To his relief, Josie Lynn let him walk away with as much dignity as his assless chaps would afford him.
But after walking a few feet, he realized he didn’t know where he was going exactly. Where the hell would he find pants—or any clothing—in this room? Now, if he wanted a ginormous purple dildo or a . . .
He tilted his head to study one of the items hanging on the wall. Was that a mace?
Yeah, he could find any item of sexual torture, but he was pretty sure a pair of size 34 Levi’s was not happening.
He glanced back to Josie Lynn, who stood in the same place, her arms curled around herself again as if she was cold.
Or protecting herself.
He moved back toward her, debating what he could say to her to help. She had that worried, almost defeated expression again, and despite her obvious dislike of him, he felt the need to comfort her. Of course that was all he’d been trying to do before their conversation went badly just moments earlier.
He paused, trying to think of the right thing to say, when he heard her say to herself, “This was not how this job was supposed to go. How the hell am I going to get the money now?”
Drake frowned. This job? The money? What was she talking about? Then a memory, although somewhat hazy, came back to him. One of the last he remembered from last night. Josie Lynn taking money. Taking money for what?
Could Josie Lynn be involved in whatever had happened to cause their memory loss? And now that he thought about it, where was all their stuff? His wallet was gone. His cell phone. Hell, even his pants. Maybe they hadn’t been just misplaced during a night of debauchery. And he imagined everyone else’s stuff was gone, too. Had this been a robbery of some sort? And was Josie Lynn somehow involved?
If she was, the plan had clearly backfired, at least for her. But she was involved in something. He knew he’d seen her take money and let some people in the back door. He thought about the people he’d seen, trying to remember what they looked like.
They’d looked like . . . Cher. Multiple Chers.
He frowned. Maybe the drug had already started to take effect at that point. Chers. That couldn’t be right.
He looked at Josie Lynn, who was again chewing at her lower lip and looking very, very anxious. Whether his memory of Cher en masse was accurate or not, one thing was for certain; he wasn’t letting Cupcake out of his sight until he got the truth.
JOSIE LYNN STARED at the motionless body of the bride, Zelda.
Well, there was no denying this bride would remember her wedding night. Or if she was like the rest of them, remember that she didn’t remember her wedding night. Josie Lynn was also pretty sure she wasn’t going to be pleased to find her wedding dress, her gifts, and her groom for God’s sake, all missing. This was a nightmare.
Josie Lynn wondered if all of her catering supplies were gone, too. Her cookie tins and serving platters. Her mixing bowls and serving spoons. Everything could very well be gone, and she had no means to replace it. She didn’t see how she could recover from another major financial hit. If those items were all gone—stolen or whatever happened to them—she didn’t think she could salvage her catering career. If she could anyway. It was safe to say the bride and groom probably weren’t going to have anything positive to say about their wedding reception, period.
So much for rave reviews.
She immediately felt selfish. Everyone had lost things last night. And a person was missing. That was far more serious than her nonstick pots and pans.
She curled her arms tighter around herself. And there was another niggling thought that wouldn’t leave her mind. What if she was somehow inadvertently involved? Everything had gone crazy after she let those transvestites into the reception. But how could they be involved in the drugging? After all, they’d just entered the party moments before Josie Lynn had started to feel so funny.
It didn’t make sense.
But Josie Lynn didn’t have time to ponder other explanations, because her thoughts were interrupted by the other guy, Johnny, she thought she heard his name was, shouting to the pirate.
“Hey Drake, there’s an alligator in the hallway, so be careful.”
An alligator? In the hallway? This had to be a joke, right?
She looked over at the pirate—Drake, who was regarding her rather than reacting to what his friend had said. Looking at her? Rather than reacting to a deadly reptile on the loose? She didn’t think that could be a good sign.
He walked back over to her, and he obviously hadn’t found anything to use as pants or a diaper or even a loincloth. But she must have been growing accustomed to his state of undress, because she was definitely more concerned about the expression on his face than his wiener hanging out.
“Did they say alligator?” she said once he got closer.
He nodded.
She looked toward the other couple just as they called out they were leaving.
Josie Lynn gave Drake a startled look. “They are going into the hallway with the alligator? Do you think that’s a wise idea?”
“They’ll be fine,” he said, almost as if he were distracted. But still, there was an alligator out there. She’d grown up on the bayou and knew gators were no joke. And frankly, that French woman didn’t look like she could hold her own with a kitten, much less a vicious beast with a gazillion teeth and a jaw like a steel trap.
“I’m not sure they should go out there,” she said, and again he repeated that they would be fine.
She watched the door close behind the couple, feeling certain she would soon be hearing shrieks of terror and pain.
“Who were those people you let in the back door at the reception?”
Josie Lynn’s stomach dropped and all thoughts of impending gator death vanished. Slowly she looked back to Drake. He’d seen her take the money. Great, he thought she was involved. Hell, she thought she might be involved, too, but purely by accident.
“They were a group of transvestites who said they were friends of the bride.”
“All dressed like Cher, right?”
Josie Lynn nodded, and he looked almost relieved, but that expression quickly faded as his dark eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“You didn’t think it was weird a group of trannies wanted to come in through the back door?”
“Yes I did, but they said they wanted to surprise the bride, and given what the rest of the wedding guests looked like”—she gestured to the shirt she now wore, his shirt—“I didn’t think it was terribly weird that transvestites all dressed like Cher would be her friends.”
He didn’t argue that, but he did bring up the very thing that had troubled her for the moment it happened.
