“You want me to get naked with you? Jeez, Luna, maybe take me to dinner and buy me a glass of wine first,” I joked, but inside I was allnope, not happening. Easy for a white witch with not an ounce of fat on her body to casually dance around naked in the moonlight. When I danced, various parts of me jiggled. A lot.
And she says no drinks? Yeah, right. Like any self-respecting spring break student, I was going to need someliquid courage before I started prancing naked around a beach at night.
“So you’re a comedian these days?” Luna winked at me.
“It’s my night gig. Didn’t I tell you?”
“I must have missed that between our late night conversations about Cash and Beau’s new restaurant.”
Cash. My heart tugged a bit as I thought about him.
“Don’t even get me started,” I grumbled as I made my way inside. “I’m going upstairs to find something that looks good with no underwear on.”
“I’ll entertain Hank,” Luna called after me, knowing that now was not the time to get into a discussion about my sorta-boyfriend, Cash Williams.
He’d blazed into my life a month ago amid the mess of Luna being charged with murder, and had played knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress. It didn’t hurt that he was a dead ringer for Channing Tatum and dropped phrases like “investment portfolio” and “second home.” Beneath all that, he’d also turned out to be a pretty stellar guy and I’d found myself swept under by the pull that is all things Cash.
He’d been called back to Miami to investigate a string of break-ins at his newest club, and I’d only seen him once for a night when he’d come down to check in with Beau on his new restaurant, which Cash was an investor in.
Yeah, Cash invests in things. The only things I ever invest in are new packs of tarot cards and shoes, so there’s that.
As men go, Cash was fairly good on the communication front and we’d kept in contact via daily text and phoneconversations. I couldn’t fault him for having been pulled away from our burgeoning relationship by his work. It was just crappy timing all around.
“Really crappy,” I muttered as I yanked my closet doors open and perused my sizeable collection of maxi dresses.
It certainly didn’t help that Trace, my best friend and dive buddy, had taken up with a girl who liked to wear neon scraps of fabric as a substitute for a bikini. Trace had stepped over the line of our friendship when Cash had moved in on me, creating an interesting love triangle of sorts. Though I’d been flattered, it wasn’t as much fun to be fought over as the Real Housewives made it look on television.
And now Trace was living it up with Orange Bikini while I had a missing boyfriend.
“He hasn’t even said he’s your boyfriend,” I reminded myself and yanked out a simple black maxi dress, made of soft linen that sort of flowed and skimmed over any lumps and bumps I might have. A shiver rippled through me as I thought about whipping the dress off under the stars.
Maybe telling Cash I was dancing around naked with other women in the moonlight would bring him hurrying down to Tequila Key to make sure I didn’t suddenly switch teams on him, I thought as I discarded my underwear with a gulp and pulled the dress over my head.
Glancing in the mirror, I breathed a sigh of relief. The dress was voluminous enough to conceal the fact that I was wearing no underwear, and a higher neckline hid my ladies – which typically could never be without a bra.
“Luna, is it bad if I wear black?” I shouted down the stairs.
“Not if you want to summon demons,” she called back.
I stopped short. Shit, I didn’t want to call down evil spirits.
“Kidding,” Luna called again.
“Thinks she’s soo funny,” I muttered and switched off the light before pounding downstairs, stopping at the base of the stairs with my arms wide open. “Here I am, in all my almost naked glory.”
Luna gave me a once-over. “Perfect. Want to get a bite to eat before it gets dark?”
“Duh,” I said, calling Hank and pulling a new toy out of my rotating drawer of toys for him. Hank came scrambling inside and huffed at my feet, his head cocked as he eyed the fuzzy banana in my hand.
Who comes up with these designs for pet toys anyway? I launched the banana across the room and Hank went scrambling across my wood floors in delight.
Luna waited by the door and I couldn’t help but notice that she wore all white. I mean, shewasa white witch after all, but here I was all in black.
“Are you Glinda and I’m the Wicked Witch of the West?” I asked, pointing between our dresses as we stepped onto my porch.
“More like the wicked bitch of the Keys,” Luna sang out as she hopped behind the wheel of her white VW convertible with white leather interior. Did I mention that Luna does white well? I, on the other hand, don’t think I actually own anything white, except a new maxi dress that I was going to try and gently break in.
It’s the wine stains that usually get me.
