Page 24 of Beau Pair
Living in France had made Mom very liberal, despite coming from a small town in the middle of America. I had my first taste of wine at the ripe age of eleven, and I hated it. My first glass of wine when I was fourteen. By the time I was eighteen, I knew wines better than the bartender at the local bar.
“I’m impressed. I always thought the over twenty-one law was quite stupid. You can drive a car at sixteen, vote at eighteen, but God forbid you touch alcohol until you’re twenty-one. It’s no surprise the kids on campus go crazy when it’s ‘official,’” he says, and puts the bottle on the kitchen island.
“Trust me. There’s a ton of unofficial parties for freshmen and sophomores too.” Zoe giggles.
“What’s that? Are we going to a party? I have to admit, it’s been a few years since I went to a college party, but I’m in,” Dolly says behind us, and I stare at Zoe, taking in her fangirl reaction to savor.
She turns, and her entire body literally freezes when she sees Dolly. Then, her hands come up to her mouth as she tries to not shriek—very unsuccessfully, mind.
“Oh. My. God.Lacey Storm!I can’t believe I’m meeting you in person,” Zoe screeches and gives Dolly her hands.
Dolly approaches, her eyes pinned on Zoe, takes Zoe’s hand, and kisses the back of it very slowly. Almost erotically. And knowing what the woman writes for a living, it isn’t that far-fetched to think Dolly knows exactlywhatshe’s doing andwhateffect it has on Zoe.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Dolly says in a sensual tone that even makes me horny.
Gordon looks over to me and shakes his head in fake indignance.
“I hear you’re my biggest fan,” Dolly says, still holding onto Zoe’s hand, and my best friend is lost for words.
“I… I am. I… umm… I started writing because of you,” she manages to say, but it’s not nice to watch.
Well, it’s entertaining, but I’d both hate and love being in her place.
“Really?” Dolly smiles. Their hands are still linked. “That’s a very big compliment.”
“Maybe we should take this outside to drink ourselves,” Gordon whispers to me, pointing at the wine.
“Is that wine? We’ll take some. You do drink wine, right?” Dolly asks Zoe, her tone still low and erotic.
“Abso… lutely,” Zoe responds.
Gordon gets four wine glasses from the cupboard and opens the bottle before pouring some for all of us.
“Nice,” I say, taking a sip and letting the wine wash my palate with its flavors. “Strong, bold, slightly spiced.”
Is it my fault I’m looking at Gordon when I describe the wine and thinking how perfectly he fits the description?
No. It isn’t.
It isn’t my fault he looks strong as fuck with his bulky body, and bold with all his business acumen and honesty, or slightly spiced from all the wonderful, non-toxic charm he exudes whenever he speaks or looks at someone.
“Tastes like wine to me.” Zoe shrugs and drinks some more.
“Zoe!” I scold her, but Dolly laughs.
“I mean, you’re not wrong.” She smiles and clinks glasses with Zoe. “So, tell me, Zoe. What do you write?”
“Lesbian romance,” Zoe says all sheepishly. “Bu-but I like fantasy… and-and paranormal, so I usually blend in the-the supernatural.”
“Yeah, she’s already finished a book, but she won’t let anyone read it. Not even me,” I say, but go somewhat ignored.
Somehow Dolly convinces her to send it to her so she can read it, and I’m equally pissed and pleased. Pissed because I’ve been begging Zoe for months to have a read and pleased because Dolly seems to like Zoe. Well, I’d say more than like, considering her eyes—both their eyes—are literally screaming sex.
“They’re getting on like a house on fire,” Gordon says, and comes to stand next to me.
We’re standing by the door in the backyard, waiting for the takeout—Chinese—to arrive, while Dolly and Zoe are sitting on a baby blue colored bench, although Dolly is sitting more on Zoe than on the wooden surface.
“Yeah, perhaps a bit too much fire,” I comment.
