“Sure thing, Spence.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but Astrid took his hand and led him into their tent to change, shooting Iris a look over her shoulder as they disappeared inside.
“God, I hate that guy,” Iris said.
“Why? He’s such a peach,” Delilah said as Claire came up next to her. Their arms brushed, and Delilah felt the immediate rush of goose bumps over her skin, Claire’s meadowy scent filling her senses.
She stepped a little closer to Iris. Jesus, she needed to get a grip.
“I guess we should get ready to hike, huh?” Claire asked, folding her arms.
“Maybe there’s a ravine Delilah can push him down,” Iris said.
“Oh sure,” Delilah said, “make me the murderer.”
“You could make it look like an accident.” Iris nudged her arm. “Like the river? Pure brilliance.”
“Um, in case you don’t recall,Ialso went into the river. I’m not taking a tumble down a ravine to break up a wedding. I’m here to ruin some happiness, not, you know, die.”
“Ruin some happiness?” Claire asked, brow furrowed.
Delilah sucked her teeth. She’d nearly forgotten who she was with. For a second there, it felt like she was simply talking with... friends. Bantering. Laughing. Joking. All things she’d never really had before, but Iris and Claire weren’t really her friends. They were Astrid’s.
“Spencer’s,” Delilah said, forcing a smile.
Problem was, Delilah wasn’t even sure what she was doing anymore. Astrid and Isabel had dragged her back to Bright Falls, dangling money and her father’s memory just to exert some sort of sick control over her, and when Claire and Iris wanted to get rid of Spencer, the thought of witnessing the Parker-Greens facing a canceled society wedding was just too delicious to pass up. Now, though,seeing Claire looking at her so sweetly, remembering Astrid’s devastated expression as she’d stared at the unhappy photo of herself by Spencer’s side, verbally sparring with Iris in a way that usually ended in laughter—it all felt like something so much more than a two-week trip to the place she hated most in the world.
It felt like the start of something.
Which couldn’t be right. Hersomethingwas in New York City. Hersomethingwas huge crowds and dive bars and women whose names she only occasionally remembered. The Whitney. Fellow artists. Potential agents and sales and making a name for herself.
“I’m all about some Spencer-ruining,” Iris said as she unzipped their tent’s door and took the sleeping bag out from under Delilah’s arm, tossing it through the entrance. “I’m going to get changed.”
Then she disappeared, leaving Claire and Delilah alone for the first time since Delilah sneaked out of Claire’s house this morning while the first streaks of light silvered across the sky.
As soon as the door zipped closed, Claire closed her hand around Delilah’s wrist and tugged her across the campsite, behind Josh and Ruby’s tent and out of view. Before Delilah could ask what was going on, Claire’s mouth was on hers, soft and warm. Her arms settled on Delilah’s shoulders, fingers slipping into her hair. Delilah’s hands found Claire’s hips, pulling her closer. She opened to her, tongue sliding over Claire’s like silk, pulling the gentlest moan from Claire’s throat.
God, this woman made her crazy. She felt wild, unhinged, like a horny teenager chasing her next make-out session.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Claire said when they broke apart.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
Another kiss. Another soft moan.
“Better be careful,” Delilah whispered against her mouth, sliding her hands down to Claire’s ample ass. “I’m about to take you right here, right now.”
Claire stiffened and pulled back.
“Calm down. I won’t,” Delilah said.
“That’s not what I...” Claire closed her mouth, her eyes searching Delilah’s. “I want to be alone with you.”
Delilah grinned, pressed her mouth to Claire’s neck, growling a little into her skin. “Me too.”
Claire laughed. “Not for that.”
