“Not driving,” she said. “She is.” She pointed to Annie, who frowned. “Or is it Sarah? Don’t we have a designated driver?”
J.C. shook his head. “Given the universal state of wobbliness I’m seeing here, my guess is no. Come on. I’ll take you.”
The three women piled into his car without protest. They even managed to direct him to their respective homes. He dropped Raylene off last.
“I take back what I said earlier,” she said as she exited the car.
“What did you say earlier?”
“That I was on the fence about whether you were a prince or a jerk, or something like that. Turns out you’re a gentleman.” Her head bobbed approvingly. “Good for you.”
He smiled at the vote of confidence. “Thank you.”
“Doesn’t really matter what I think,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Laura thinks you’re a prince. Hurt her, though, and you’re dead meat.”
“So I’ve heard,” he said. “Good night, Raylene.”
He waited until she was safely inside, then drove back to Laura’s, uncertain what he might find when he got there. To his amazement, though her eyes were a little bright, she didn’t look as if however many margaritas she’d consumed had fazed her.
“You look none the worse for your little party,” he commented when she let him in.
“How’d you know about that?”
“I ran into the gals outside and volunteered to take them home. They had no business getting behind the wheel of a car.”
“That was so sweet of you,” she said.
“Oh, I’m a prince, all right,” he said. “At least that’s what Raylene claimed the vote had been earlier in the evening.”
A blush climbed up Laura’s neck and flooded her cheeks. “She told you that?”
“Alcohol tends to loosen tongues,” he reminded her. “By the way, she changed her vote. I thought I should tell you that, in case it makes a difference to you.”
“Really?”
“She says I’m a real gentleman, after all.”
“Wow! Impressive. She was a holdout earlier.”
He stepped closer, reaching out to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. His touch lingered on her flushed cheek. “Did her opinion matter?”
She held his gaze and shook her head. “Not to me.”
“I’m thinking I might not want to be a gentleman much longer,” he admitted. “What would you think about that?”
She swallowed hard, but she didn’t look away. “I’m thinking there might be times when being a gentleman is highly overrated.”
He smiled. “Good to know.”
“Were you thinking of making such a dramatic change tonight?” she inquired, a breathless note in her voice.
“I was, but the margarita thing has me thinking my timing is really off. I want you to make this decision with a clear head.”
She regarded him with disappointment. “Did you really come over here tonight to seduce me?”
“Actually I came because I heard about what happened at school. I tried to call, but never got an answer.”
“I let voice mail pick up since I had company,” she said.
“Well, it worried me, so I came to check on you.”
“Thank you. That was sweet.”
He smiled. “Quite a night for me, anyway. First Raylene called me a gentleman and now you think I’m sweet.”
“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m sure you have lots and lots of flaws. I just can’t think of any at the moment.”
“I think I’ll concentrate on the fact that you haven’t ruled out letting me seduce you one of these days.”
“No, I definitely haven’t ruled that out.”
“Another time, then,” he said, bending down to touch his lips to hers. He could taste the hint of lime juice, tequila and salt that lingered on her lips, though the kiss would have been intoxicating enough without that.
He’d been right, he thought, as he reluctantly let her go. Now that he’d kissed her, even with just a brush of his lips across hers, he was lost. Oddly enough, it didn’t terrify him half as badly as he’d expected it to.
“Good night, Laura. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
As he left, he cast one last glance over his shoulder and saw her with her fingers to her lips, her expression vaguely dazed. Good, he thought. The effect had been mutual.
* * *
Laura was surprised when she received a call the morning after margarita night from Paula Vreeland, asking if they could meet for afternoon tea on the patio of The Corner Spa. Paula was a legend in town. An internationally renowned artist, her original works were priced way beyond Laura’s budget, but she had managed to buy one print, which hung in a place of prominence on the wall of Laura’s little apartment.
Though she thought the spa was an odd choice for a meeting, it was no more odd than the request itself. She had to admit curiosity had gotten the better of her. She arrived fifteen minutes early and found Mrs. Vreeland already there, chatting with her daughter, Maddie.
“Laura, nice to see you,” Maddie said. “Mother told me you were coming over. I don’t suppose I can sign you up for a membership while you’re here? We have special discounts for teachers.”
“One of these days,” Laura said, looking around with envy at the sunshine-drenched exercise room with its view of a wooded area beyond. Working out here in air-conditioning would be so much nicer than the way too rare, sweat-drenched walks she now took around the park.
Paula gave her daughter a chiding look. “I didn’t invite Ms. Reed over here so you could make a sales pitch.”
Maddie laughed. “It’s part of my job description to reel in new members. Why don’t the two of you go out onto the patio. It’s quiet out there. I’ll bring you something from the café. Anything in particular you’d like?”
“I’ve heard the fruit smoothies are amazing,” Laura admitted. “Could I try one of those?”
“Of course. Strawberry-banana okay?”
“Perfect.”
“And I’ll just have a glass of sweet tea,” Mrs. Vreeland said. “And maybe one of Dana Sue’s blueberry muffins.”
“Low-fat?” Maddie asked.
Paula wrinkled her nose. “Not if I have a choice,” she said at once.
After they were settled at a wrought-iron table on the shaded brick patio, Paula regarded her directly. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you out of the blue.”
“I am curious,” Laura admitted,
