Vee squealed. “Tahoe? Why are you going to Tahoe and can I come?”
Esme rolled her eyes. “Find your own friends, Vee. I’m actually going there for a bachelorette party. You remember my friend Ashley? She’s getting married in October.”
“But I just turned twenty-one, and your friends are my friends, right?” Vee pouted. All of us could see by the look on Esme’s face, there was no way she’d change her mind.
Amelia rubbed her extended belly. “You’re still friends with Ashley? Wasn’t she the one who stole your prom date senior year?”
Izzy snorted. “You’d think that would kill a friendship, but these two are more like frenemies.”
Em nodded enthusiastically. “I totally understand. I have a lot of frenemies too.”
“I don’t get it,” I interjected. Why be friends with someone if you hated them?
Esme stood up straight, loving any moment when she could appear the expert. “A frenemy is someone you’re friendly with, but you also compete with and want to always do better than.” Then she slouched, very unlike her. “I’m so not looking forward to going. She’s got a rock almost as big as Oakley’s on her finger, and I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
Izzy patted her on the back. “Ahh, it’s okay. You’re freaking gorgeous, E. You’ll find a man in no time. But you may want to drop the business suit. It scares men off.”
Esme gave Izzy a look that only a sister could give. “It’s not the suit. I went out last weekend to some janky bar and this guy was hitting on me and he wasn’t horrible looking. I’d probably had one too many martinis, and I said I’d only go home with him if he could promise me a good twelve inches.”
“Life’s too short to go home with small dick men. I get it.” Vee sighed like she’d spent so many years dealing with substandard men.
My cheeks burned. I really hated when my sisters went off about their sex lives. I just wasn’t one to share the details. I mean, Wyatt gave me all the inches I needed and then some, but you didn’t see me bragging about it.
“You know what he said back?” Esme looked positively appalled. “He said if I wanted that, he could just fuck me twice!”
Emmeline snorted, I shut my eyes in horror, and Amelia grabbed her belly like she might pee herself from laughing so hard. Vee’s lips twisted in disgust, and Izzy looked around the party like she was looking for an excuse to get out of this conversation.
When we’d all calmed down and Esme had finished off her drink, I tried to be positive. “I think you need this trip, then, Esme. Go have fun, but never compare yourself to Ashley. The girl knits cat costumes for a living.”
“Yeah!” Vee clapped her hands. “She may have a one-hit wonder on her hands with those adorable cat-stumes, but you’re a goddamn…well, you’re a kick-ass…” She twisted to look at Esme. “What the hell do you do again?”
Esme huffed. “I coach women how to be entrepreneurial successes in their own right so they never had to rely on a man for money. I’ve literally two million followers on YouTube alone!”
“My flamingoes have a thousand followers on Insta,” Amelia tossed out there.
Izzy and I tittered, finding it funny that many people actually wanted to see the weird flamingoes she and Titus raised on their B and B property.
Esme’s shoulders dropped. “I’m serious, you guys. I love helping women make a life that can include a man if they want, but doesn’t have to. I do important work.”
“Yeah, but you’re not getting laid,” Amelia piped in, bringing the conversation full circle.
“Exactly! That’s why I need to find a twelve-incher to do the job right. I’m totally due!” Esme nearly shouted.
Wyatt appeared at my side, his eyebrow raised at Esme’s remark. He handed me the spiked kombucha I liked so much. “You know I have a cop friend who might be what you’re looking for, Esme. I mean, I haven’t measured his dick, but he’s a nice guy. I can set you two up.”
Esme bared her teeth, not looking excited about a blind date setup. “No offense, Wyatt, but you’re like my brother and I’d really like to stay away from cops. It would just be too weird.”
Wyatt shrugged and put his arm around my waist.
“I think you need to ride a cowboy!” Vee suggested, making some lewd hip gyrations meant to mimic riding a horse. “I once dated this guy who grew up on a farm and he had a seriously girthy—”
“Okay, time for us to go dance,” Wyatt interrupted, wincing as he pulled me away from the group.
He better get used to it. Marrying me meant gaining four sisters. Conversations about dicks and flat irons and menstrual periods were par for the course.
He took our drinks and placed them on an empty chair, pulling me onto the dance floor and into his arms. He smelled like cologne and ocean, a potent smell I’d never tire of. As we swayed to the country song, I could tell all that talk of dick size hadn’t dialed down his desire. If anything, maybe he felt motivated to show me just how many inches he was sporting.
“Ready to get out of here?” I whispered up at him.
He grinned, and the desire pooled low in my belly. “You’re riding with me,” he whispered back.
“Always.”
Esme
My cell phone dinged repeatedly on the end table, but I ignored it, however foreign that felt. I snorted out loud, thinking that if I could have done it, I would have already surgically attached that thing to my body. I was constantly on it, responding to clients, booking new clients, and texting out marching orders to my three assistants.
But not tonight.
I had exactly two hours to pack my things, grab something to eat, and make it to the airport in time for my flight to Lake Tahoe for that stupid bachelorette party. Oh
