My stomach gives a little lurch at the possibility of seeing Logan, but I doubt he’d offer to drive a bunch of wine-drunk women around. I shouldn’t worry. I’ve managed to avoid him since our last run-in—I even hid behind a plant at the employee and family night so he wouldn’t catch me watching him talk to Reed—and I’d like to keep it that way. He’s an ass. Even if he was surprisingly sweet to my brother. Reed couldn’t stop gushing about Logan on the drive home.
It’s good to know the surly Vikingcanbe nice. Just apparently not to me.
Me
That sounds really fun. Count me in.
“Oh my god,you look so pretty!” Isla gushes from the front seat of the big, expensive-looking SUV. “Welcome to the party bus!”
The big, dark-haired man driving chuckles. “Hey, Blair. Good to see you again.”
“Hi, Maddox. Thanks for picking me up.” My palms are sweaty as I pull the door closed. God, I hope I’m not acting as awkward as I feel right now. Maddox and the rest of the guys have been nothing but nice, but I can’t help wondering if Logan knows he’s driving me around tonight with the girls.
“Anytime. Can’t have you ladies riding around with some stranger.”
The drive to the painting place doesn’t take long. Then we’re all waving goodbye to Isla’s husband and giggling as we walk inside. I’m at ease with these women, and I hope it stays that way.
The girl at the counter greets us, explaining how everything works as she leads us over to an empty table. She runs through their small wine list, takes our orders, then leaves us to pick paint brushes and small pre-portioned cups of paint they’ve chosen to go along with the fall-themed painting we’ll be copying. It’s an autumnal tree with orange leaves that blow in an invisible breeze with some pumpkins sitting by the base of the trunk.
It’s cute. I’m totally going to butcher it.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Isla says, grinning. “I’m so glad you thought of it, Lexi.”
Lexi has a handful of paint cups precariously balanced in her hand, and her face is a mask of concentration as she answers. “Let’s just hope this wine is good. I want to be tipsy enough by the time we leave that I don’t even have to pretend that my painting isn’t terrible. Wine goggles for the win.”
“I just don’t understand why it has to be a tree,” I say. “Trees are so hard to paint. Why couldn’t it be a cute little ghost or something for Halloween?”
“So paint a ghost. Fuck the rules.” Mira shrugs, and the rest of us giggle.
“I’m not really afuck the ruleskind of girl,” I reply honestly. Hell, pretty sure the fallout of my most recent rebellion is enough to ensure I’m forever a rule follower from now on. You sayfuck the rulesand have one night of hot, filthy sex with a stranger, then you’re forced to work with his unreasonably grumpy ass as punishment. No thanks. I’m good.
“That’s okay. We’ll help push you out of your rule-following shell,” Lexi says casually before turning and strolling back to our table with her paints.
Isla rolls her eyes. “Don’t listen to her. There’s nothing wrong with playing it safe.”
My shoulders relax, grateful that at least one of these women understands.
“Although, if I had truly played it safe, I don’t think I’d be married to Maddox now. So maybe there’s something to be said for taking risks and breaking the rules every once in a while.”
“I definitely wouldn’t be married to Griffin if I didn’t take stupid risks sometimes. Though I blame the alcohol for that.” Mira winks and saunters off after Lexi.
“Come on. No need to look so scared. We’ll only corrupt you if you want us to.” Isla bumps my hip with hers. “Now, let’s go drink some wine and paint really terrible trees.”
We sip our first glasses of wine as the instructor runs us through some tips and techniques, then answers a few questions. We’re already on our second glasses by the time she turns us loose to create on our own canvases. Our table is silent for a few minutes as everyone sketches out their scene, and I begin to relax. Some of the tension bleeds out of my shoulders, and I manage to stop clenching my stomach. This is nice. Relaxing, even.
Mira clears her throat. “So, are you going to tell us what happened with Logan?”
Well, itwasrelaxing.
Keeping my eyes on my very sad-looking tree, I try to modulate my tone and hope my voice doesn’t waver. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Lexi snorts. “Uh-huh. Sure, you don’t.”
I lift my wineglass to my lips and take a sip to hide my reaction.
“Ladies, come on, leave her alone. If she doesn’t want to tell us about her night of passion with Logan, she doesn’t have to,” Isla says.
I nearly spit out my wine.
