Her long, slender throat moved on a swallow.“B-buona notte.”
I closed her door and stepped back as she turned on the engine, gave me one last closed-mouth smile, and backed up.
Sam waved at me as Danica put the vehicle into drive, and I waved back.Then I stood there and watched them drive off, my heart confused, my stomach starving, and my head all over the place.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Danica
“Didyoubringthedocuments?”Gabrielle asked me later that night after I’d showered the scent of horse off myself, and Sam and I had dinner with my cousin and her kids.
Gabrielle made a delicious vegetarian bechamel lasagna along with Caesar salad and garlic bread.My cousin made the best lasagna, so I never said no to an invitation.Half the time, I invited myself.
We sat at her kitchen table, spinning our wine glasses around by the stems as Maverick and Damon did the dishes in the kitchen.Laurel and Sam were off in Laurel’s room, so it was just my cousin and me, debriefing about the last twenty-four hours.
I smacked my forehead with the heel of my palm.“Shit.No.”
“Text him.”
I shook my head.
Gabrielle gave me an incredulous look.“What?Why?Do you not have his number?”
I had his number.I’d texted myself from his phone the night he got Angel.
“Why are you making that weird face?”she asked.“What’s going on?”
“I … I’ll get them tomorrow.We’re going back over to visit the baby horse.”
“I don’t need the originals.Just have him scan them on his phone.That way I can send the copies to my friends and we can figure out how to help him.”She nudged my phone, which sat in front of me on the table.“Text him, you weirdo.”
I glared at her, then at my phone.
She pushed it even closer to me.“Danica St.Claire, you are thirty-two years old, text the boy you like.”
“Would you shut up?”I hissed at her, taking my phone.“And I don’tlikehim.”
“Then you should have no problem texting him and asking him to scan the documents so I can take a look.”She sat back in her seat, all smug, and took a sip of her wine.
Some people ran on coffee or chocolate; Gabrielle ran on arguments.She loved to argue.Loved towinarguments.And the way she sat back in her seat, with triumphant amber eyes glittering over the rim of her wineglass, told me she thought she’d won this.
Had she?
“I’ll just grab them tomorrow,” I persisted.
“Or, you could get them now.We could drive over there.I’ve only had one glass of wine.”
“You’ve had three,” Maverick called from the kitchen.“You’re not driving anywhere.”
She glared at him as he grinned at her.
I’d had two glasses of wine as well and was too exhausted to drive anywhere, even if I were totally sober.Ugh!She was right, of course.If I got the documents now, then she could read over them tomorrow morning, and we could get this ball rolling even sooner.
“Fine.”I grabbed the phone reluctantly as I opened it to the message from his phone I had sent myself.
My fingers trembled as I typed out the message.Not that it was anything suggestive, or even absurd, but that I was texting a boy—aman—that I liked, sent all kinds of winged creatures in my belly on an adventure with no flight plan.
“Let me take a look first,” Gabrielle said, holding out her hand for the phone.“I’ll just add a fewx’s ando’s.”
