Page 91 of Brewbies
Fox’s face melted with tenderness, and if he didn’t give a Westley-ishas you wish, then Ethan was imagining things.
Cady turned to them, her hands imprisoning both their wrists with surprising strength for someone with her autoimmune disorder. “Okay, you two. I have been asked exactly twenty million times if you guys hate-banged your way into a relationship. What do I tell everyone? Is this a thing?Please tell me this is a thiiiiiinguh.”
Even Darby sputtered at her effusiveness. “Um. This is…it’s…”
“It’s a date,” Ethan clarified.
“You’redating?” Cady appeared this close to apoplexy.
“We are on a date. Singular. Currently.Or trying to be.” He shot his sort-of-ex a get-the-fuck-out-of-here look. But in the nicest way possible.
“Gotcha. Loud and clear.” She saluted him before turning to Darby. “OMG. Message me later. Or in the morning. Or if he leaves after breakfast.”
“He said we’re not going to bone tonight,” Darby lamented.
“What?” Crossing her arms, Cady made a sound between a laugh and a groan. “That’s sort of closing the barn door after letting the horse out. Did he say why?”
“Heis right the fuck here,” Ethan pointed out.
“I think he’s trying to figure out if he can stand the other things I can do with my mouth. Like talking.” Darby’s pat on the shoulder turned him all the rest of the way the color of steamed beets.
“How is it going so far?” Cady inquired, not skipping a beat. “What do you think of our Darby, Ethan?”
“I think she’s…”Extraordinary. Overwhelming. Exquisite. Sexy. Complicated.“I think she’s one of the smartest, strongest, most independent women I’ve ever met.”
“Oh,great.” Darby rolled her eyes. “Everyonelovessmart, strong, independent women…except men and most other women.”
“Maybe that’s because what we’ve been taught to see astroubleis really just power we’re afraid of you all using on us.”
Both women shot him an approving look he’d not at all expected.
When he was thinking of a polite way to get the fuck out of there, Vee, of all people, goosed him from behind before shoving her way into the middle of the gathering. Her silver-blue hair stuck up like she’d been kissing light sockets.
“You’ll never guess what,” she slurred, splashing a bit of her gin and tonic on Darby’s shoe. “I was just offered seventy-five quid for the use of my body!”
Ethan didn’t have a chance to remind anyone that solicitation was a crime before Myrtle shouldered in just in time to catch Vee’s insubstantial weight before she flung herself on the grass.
“That isn’t a lot of money, honey. Let’s get you home.”
Vee jerked her arm out of Myrtle’s grasp. “It was when I was in my twenties. Why can’t you let me have this?”
“Because it wasn’t for your body, my love, it was Mayor Stewart offering you money to abandon the pea-shooting booth so you’d stop taking all the good prizes from his thirteen-year-old nephew,” Vee reminded her.
“That walking vasectomy advertisement? Who cares? Probably off rubbing knobs in Henry’s Hardware instead of doing his job.”
After much shushing, Myrtle turned to the group. “Sorry, everyone in town knows not to give her gin, but no one told the newbies.”
“It’s good to see you are being the mature one for once.” Ethan chuckled.
“Yeah! I’m being the mature one,” Myrtle agreed, eyeing him like he wasn’t from around these parts. “Now, what are you doing harassing Darby, you big, hairy twat face?”
“They’re on a date,” Cady answered for him.
Myrtle jumped back, almost upsetting a dangerously green Vee in the process. “They don’t look like they’re on a date.”
“He brought me flowers and everything,” Darby said, looping her arm through his.
This, he liked. This he could get used to.
