I was ready for a hasty retreat, but I didn’t want to be rude.
Much.
“Did I overhear you mention Rita?” Bridget nudged him back from playing Dracula.
“Women have bat ears, I swear. Yes, Rita. She lives down there.” I vaguely pointed at the cottage, but Bridget hurried forward.
“Oh, really? That cute little cottage? She lives here now?” Then she was off rushing down the hill, the steep incline be damned.
I shook my head. “She doesn’t live here. She’s staying here.” I sighed. “And Bridget is long gone.”
Travis patted my back. “Freudian slip, bro.”
Would that be so bad?
TWENTY
I finished cleaningup the kitchen and put the rest of the wine away.
Colette had headed out a little after Larsen. She had to close up the store and finish some reports, but I was glad to have my friend hang out with me for a little while.
I wasn’t quite sure on the bestie definition that Penn had, but she was probably the first person I’d been comfortable with in too many years to count.
And loving my horror movie—the one horror movie I enjoyed—was pretty damn funny. We actually ended up chatting over our wine for a good hour. I didn’t even worry about what we talked about.
That was so damn new for me.
Awkward was my default with people.
Not that Colette would let me be awkward. She was a champion conversationalist. Probably all those hours working at her shop.
I glanced down at my watch. Where the heck was Penn? I’d gone out to check on him once before, but I could only see wildly flashing lights up on the hill. I didn’t feel comfortable enough to go up there after him.
The sound of voices outside had me slipping out the back door. It was still warm out enough for me to skip a sweater.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but Bridget Sheppard heading my way at a fast clip was definitely not it. Travis and Penn were hustling behind her, ribbing each other from what I could make out.
“Party number two today,” I called out. I turned on the patio lights so they wouldn’t break something getting down to me.
Penn shrugged as he lagged behind his brother.
Bridget seemed a little out of breath, but a big smile was on her face. “Sorry to invite myself over. Just I overheard you were staying down here, and we didn’t get to talk much. You have such a cool career. Have you been an author long?”
Right into it, then. I could do this. Conversation was so easy. Yep, sure. “For years actually. It’s not for the faint of heart, we’ll say. Yours seems even more fun. Well, assuming you like the model you’re working with. Which you obviously do.” I glanced over her shoulder at the very tall, exceedingly attractive Travis. He had a few leaves in his hair and still, he looked like he’d walked off a magazine spread. Funny, he didn’t look like Penn at all.
I cleared my throat. “Also, I actually asked your agent if you’d possibly do another shoot. An outdoor one this time. For my books, not me, personally.”
God, I sounded like an idiot.
Why was I so awkward?
Bridget looked surprised. “Really? I’m sure we could.” She twisted her hair over her shoulder. “I was thinking about cutting back on modeling since we’re trying to have more kids, not to mention I’m tired of trying to watch my weight.” She laughed. “My agent has been shopping a memoir, actually. I was going to use that to ease out of modeling if anyone picked it up. But no nibbles yet.”
“Things you learn,” Travis muttered.
“Oh! Well, you know, you could always self-publish. More and more authors are taking control of their careers that way. Hell, if Taylor can do it, why can’t we?”
“Damn straight,” Penn offered. “Or maybe even Duality Press could hook you up. We’re thinking about forming an imprint for fiction, and maybe non-fiction.”