And Gigi shuts up.
I look between her and Logan.
What the hell is going on?
Beside me, Skip’s attention is piqued. He sits up straighter and stares at Logan.
Gigi clears her throat. She almost looks like she’s trembling.
“Anyway, I have nothing against Darcy. I think it’s…”
“Quaint,” I repeat. “I know. You’ve said it a bunch of times. But it’s where we live. It’s not a dollhouse or the place of the month. It’s home.”
Gigi looks to Logan for help, but he’s watching me. His gaze is smoldering, and I can practically feel Skip’s mind churning.
I turn away awkwardly and comment on the starry sky. Ginny agrees it’s beautiful, and the moment passes.
Chapter Eleven
While Skip helps himself to pie, I take off my shoes and socks and walk down to the water.
“Eeewww, your poor feet are so close to all that mud,” says Gigi’s sister, Miranda. “Do you do that for the pores?”
“Huh?”
“Like at the spas? A mud bath.”
“Not exactly.”
I leave the water and walk over to the cooler to get a beer, but Miranda and Corey follow me.
I glance from one concerned-looking sister to the other as I pop open a beer.
Miranda lowers her voice. “Gigi told us why you don’t want to get married. Again,” she adds with raised eyebrows.
I tilt my head, and Corey leans in conspiratorially. “She said you and your mother are unnaturally obsessed with Jane Austen and that your dream since you were a little girl was to be just like Jane when you grew up.”
O-ka-ay.
“Being a famous novelist would leave you no time for domestic things like taking care of a home and kids. So marriage was out for you.”
“Ri-ight. I guess.” I tilt my head back and empty about half a bottle of Lone Star down my throat.
“And you wanted to try marriage out the way most people try on a prom dress. Just for a night, right? With sex, of course.” Miranda laughs. “Marriage would suck without sex. But so would a prom. I mean, what’s the point?”
I drop my bottle and watch the rest of the beer pour out onto the grass.
“Is Logan good in bed?” Corey whispers to me. “I mean, I always had a cowboy fantasy, and Logan’s forearms sure are muscular. Not to mention the way he fills out those jeans. Did he—you know—satisfy you? Because Gigi’s waiting until marriage to find out.”
She’swhat??!
I jerk my head toward Logan and Gigi by the water.
They aren’t having sex? So that means Logan hasn’t had sex since Vegas—with me.
I suck in my breath. “A lady never tells.” I grab a fresh beer from the cooler. “Excuse me.”
Not knowing what else to do, I decide I might as well get my interview over with. I motion to Skip to follow me over to the lone picnic table up on the bank.
