“I have pepper spray,” Terry said, brandishing her purse.
He grunted a laugh.
“Pretty sure she’s not kidding.” I let a warning note enter my voice. The situation seemed to be heading south rather quickly, but I still had faith in the power of words. “Don’t you think it would be better to walk away? This whole thing is getting unnecessarily awkward.”
Mr. Uncouth looked at me as though I’d issued a violent fart instead of a diplomatic suggestion that would allow him to save face.
“Whatever.” He stormed off as abruptly as he’d arrived. If I hadn’t jerked aside, he would have shoulder checked me out of the way.
I resisted the urge to make a rude gesture at his retreating back. “Charming.”
A new voice, male and amused, spoke from behind me. “I prefer ‘unnecessarily awkward.’”
The muscles in my back seized, an instinctive response to danger. With a mounting sense of dread, I forced myself to turn.
Not again. The words sounded in my head like clanging cymbals; talk about a fire-to-frying-pan scenario. Poor Terry, subjected to constant attack by importunate males. A spark of outrage lit me from within. “Unbelievable.”
“He is, isn’t he? I don’t know what people see in that guy,” Alex Ritter observed, as though picking up the thread of an ongoing conversation. Shifting slightly, he smiled a greeting at Terry.
Oh no you don’t. “Who’s to say the two of you aren’t in cahoots?”
His lids lowered in a slow, catlike blink. “Cahoots?”
“That’s right.” I lifted my chin. Although he wasn’t encroaching on our space like the other guy, a hint of scent teased my nostrils: something soapy and a little bit green, like a forest. I didn’t know enough about the male toilette to guess whether it came from his hair or clothes or skin.
He lifted one hand, shifting the curl artfully draped across his forehead. “You really think I’d ask someone like Chad to be my wingman?”
“Why not? After him, anyone would look good.”
“Actually, I thought you might need a rescue.” His voice was low and laced with humor. “From the smooth moves of Chad.”
Playing the hero; how opportunistic of him. “We had it under control.”
Terry nodded agreement. I waited for his attention to swing back her way, but he continued to study me, head tipped to one side.
“You look familiar,” he said at last. “Have we met?”
I frowned, almost disappointed he would resort to such a clichéd line. Frankly, I’d expected more suaveness from a rake of his stature.
“Should I take that as a no?” Alex asked.
“You tell me,” I replied, sidestepping the question. The last thing I wanted was to remind him of our long-ago run-in and see the utter lack of recognition in his eyes—again.
“I’m Alex.”
“I know.”
He extended a hand, which I had no choice but to shake. I would have preferred to keep him at a safe distance, like a character on a page, instead of feeling his warm hand grip mine. And now I was blushing, which he was sure to misinterpret, when all it really meant was,I am uncomfortable right now.
“Mary,” said a familiar voice. “What are you doing?”
Dropping Alex’s hand, I took a hasty step back. “Cam. Hi.”
My sister had made zero concessions to the party atmosphere. Despite the grass stains on her jersey and scabbed knees, she appeared utterly at ease—a lioness in nylon shorts. We stared at each other in mutual consternation until I realized she was waiting for me to answer her question.
“I came with friends,” I said, trying not to sound defensive. Was it really so strange to think that I had secured an invitation to the party?
Cam’s expression didn’t change. (It seldom did.) “I thought you were helping the twins.”
