Chapter Six
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“You slept withhim didn’t you?”
Gabby’s head twisted around at Phoebe’s question. She stood on a step stool, dusting the shelves and ornate woodwork around the bar.
“Excuse me?” she asked, going back to polishing the wood so it gleamed.
“Logan Westfall. You bumped uglies with him.”
Gabby snorted. “Bumped uglies? Seriously, are we in the 90’s?”
“Fine, you made the beast with two backs.”
Giving up, Gabby laughed and tossed the dust rag on the shelf in front of her. She climbed down off the step stool and faced her sister, trying to keep a straight face. “Yes, Logan and I have had sex.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she asked, “Happy now?”
Phoebe shrugged, grinning mischievously. “I don’t know. How was it?”
“Oh my God,” Gabby mumbled. Was nothing sacred to her sister? “Fee, if you’re so interested in sex, why don’t you go have some of your own.”
Her sister made a face. “Too messy.”
Copying her sister’s expression, Gabby quipped, “Okay, some of us have work to do. Go read a romance novel if you want to live vicariously through the sex life of someone else.”
Phoebe stopped her. “Gabs, wait.” She paused, as though she was choosing her next words carefully. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Gabby stifled the small flare of irritation within her at the repetition of her sister’s warning. Since her divorce had been finalized, Phoebe didn’t exactly have a lot of faith in the male gender. Gabby needed to be more understanding of her sister’s worries.
“Fee, Logan and I are taking things slowly. I’ll be fine.”
Her sister smiled, but it was sad rather than joyful. “I know you will, sis.” Mischief gleamed in her eyes again. “So, will you at least tell me if he got you off or not?”
“Oh, sweet baby Jesus.” Shaking her head, Gabby turned, climbed back up the steps, and picked up the cloth she was using to dust the shelves.
“Fine, fine. Don’t tell me,” her sister mumbled. “You’re no fun.”
Since this was the first time Phoebe seemed like her usual self since the harsh words between them three weeks ago, Gabby turned with a sigh. She wanted to encourage her sister to open up. “Fee.” She waited until Phoebe was facing her and held up two fingers.
It took a moment for her sister to realize what she meant. Then she laughed.
“And that was just the first time,” Gabby added before returning to her task.
“Holy shit!”
She smiled as her sister left the front room. In the last week, she and Logan spent every night together. Usually he stayed with her since he was still unpacking his house, but they did spend one night at his place and Gabby loved it. The house was big, with lots of windows and a huge backyard. It was exactly the kind of place she wanted to buy for herself someday. If she was going to be honest, she always imagined she’d be married when she purchased the house. That’s what made the imagined experience seem so special. In less than seven days, Gabrielle St. John had fallen head over heels in love with Logan Westfall. It sounded ridiculous but somehow Gabby knew it was meant to be.
Several hours later, she finished polishing the woodwork in the front of the shop and made the white sangria for that evening. Though the shop sold wine by the glass and bottle, the white sangria they made daily during peach season was their best seller. Every summer, people flocked to The Wild Vine for pitchers of the cold, fruity cocktail.
Business was picking up around five as the after work crowd trickled in. By six, all the seats at the bar were filled as well as half the tables on the floor. Phoebe and Gabby were hopping to pour wine and take tapas orders back to the miniscule kitchen where their chef, Ruth, assembled the little plates.
When Logan walked in, Gabby waved at him before carrying a pitcher of sangria over to a table. He was standing at the end of the bar when she returned, smiling at her.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hi, Logan. Can I get you something to drink?”
He gestured toward the pitcher on the table she just left. “What is that? It looks like a lot of people are drinking it.”
