Page 43 of Going Deep
Grant paused, then shook his head. “That’s Anna’s drunk laugh.”
“Uh-oh,” Simon hooted with laughter. “Better hope Lola cut her off before she got too far.”
“Dammit,” Grant muttered, stalking down the hall.
Simon grinned at Michael. “This ought to be good.”
They followed Grant down the hall, stopping at the threshold to the living room. Michael took in the scene with a delighted grin.
The three women lay draped over each other on the floor, laughing and singing along with the song soaring out of the phone on the coffee table. Ginger, for some reason, held a hairbrush, and was laughing so hard she could hardly breathe. And dancing around them, occasionally stomping on limbs or faces to screams and more laughter, was Grant’s enormous dog.
“Looks like Anna’s not the only one who might be a little loaded,” Simon said.
“All right, I’m breaking this up,” Grant declared. “I’ve got the redhead.”
“I’ll handle the little blonde,” Simon said and jerked his chin at Michael. “You want to take the third?”
Michael ran his tongue around his teeth, eyeing Ginger’s inelegant sprawl on the floor. “Might as well.”
They strode into the room, forming a loose circle around the women on the floor. The dog, the best behaved of the bunch, responded to Grant’s order to sit immediately, tongue lolling politely as he watched the roundup. Michael stood over Ginger, his feet just a few inches away from her head, and waited for her to notice he was there.
She was still giggling when she opened her eyes, saw him standing over her, and let out an ear-splitting scream.
“It’s only me,” he began, then realized she was laughing hysterically again.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped between howls of laughter, clutching her middle. She tried to glare at him accusingly, but the tears of mirth streaming out of her eyes lessened the impact somewhat. “You scared me half to death.”
He grinned and reached down to lift her to her feet. “Sorry, darling.”
She shoved her hair out of her eyes and beamed at him. “What’re you doing here?”
“I came with Simon and Grant.” He nodded to where his two friends were helping their women off the floor. “Simon and Lola are going back to his place tonight, so I thought I’d see if you’d like a ride.”
“Oh. That’s nice of you.”
“I thought so,” he drawled, amused. Her blue eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed with laughter, and her smile could’ve lit Wrigley Field at midnight.
“Are you ready to go? Or do you ladies have a naked pillow fight scheduled?”
“We did the naked pillow fight first. You missed it.”
“Damn,” he said mildly, and she snickered.
“I guess I’m ready to go.” She glanced around at her friends. Lola was laughing as Simon carried her out of the room, and Anna was trying to pull Grant down on top of her on the floor while her busy fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.
“Um. Maybe we should give them some privacy.”
Michael looked over and snorted out a laugh. “Maybe we should. We’ll let ourselves out,” he called to Grant. “No, don’t get up.”
He ignored his friend’s muttered curses and Anna’s accompanying giggles and wrapped a hand around Ginger’s arm. “You drunk, darling?”
She shook her head as they made their way to the door. “Nah. I had a couple of glasses of wine, so I wouldn’t want to drive. But I’m good.”
He eyed the way she was walking. Steady, no weaving. He looked at her eyes, noted they were clear, and sent her a slow smile. “Good to know,” he said and opened the front door.
Ginger pushed open the door to her apartment and smiled at Michael. “Thanks for the ride.”
He smiled back, that slow curve of his lips that always made her breath come a little faster. “You’re welcome. Are you going to ask me in?”
