This man.He loved taco casserole and burgers, and he was a fantastic kisser, even when holding an enormous basketful of snacks. Even with Duchess sitting between them. He kissed so well that Amy felt lightheaded and tingly in every corner of her body when he set her back and said, “I hear the jackals.”
It took her a moment to catch on to what he meant. Only then did she hear the Posse calling his name. “Ugh,” she groaned.
“The lake taxi arrives at five. That good with you?”
“That is good with me.”
And with that, he was gone.
She sank down on the bed, still feeling a little tingly. Her phone rang. She glanced at the display, sighed wearily, and picked it up. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, kid,” he said. “Your mom is still there?”
She leaned back until she was prone on the cot, listening to her dad try and sort out why her mother was giving him the cold shoulder. Julie was right—she had too much baggage. A minivan full. Her family was entirely too dependent on her. And she had created the monster.
This thing with Harrison could never really be more than a weekend fling. How could it? He’d be traveling the world and she’d be looking for Jonah’s red hoodie and listening to her dad wonder where he went wrong. They were from two different solar systems.
19
Despite all the reasons he should not have, Harrison had a good time today. These women were fun. Not the sort of fun he normally chose for himself, and honestly, he didn’t know if he’d think it was a good time tomorrow. But today had been entertaining. Moreover, he didn’t feel so restless as he had the last couple of days, puttering about, hoping Amy would quit painting soon.
They had given him something to do.
The one part of this odd house party he was growing weary of was Hillary. Nothing against her—whatever she was doing to him physically was helping. But he didn’t think he could go another day hearing about Tony Cho and the running commentary about what every text has meant. And now, Harrison wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe Hillary had moved in. She was back again this late afternoon, helping June make some changes to the big Christmas tree in the living room.
“Too many bows,” June declared.
“That’s not your tree,” Carol pointed out, lest there was any confusion. She was swaying around the living room in a caftan, singing along with “Winter Wonderland.” At the bar was Melissa, who was mixing a batchof something so strong, Harrison could smell the alcohol across the room. Happy hour, he discovered, started at four when the Posse was on vacation.
“Five, otherwise,” Melissa had said with a wink when he’d mentioned it.
“I’ll put the tree back to its original, overwrought bow decor before we go,” June said. “But while we’re here, I want to look at agoodtree. Not with all these damn bows.”
“No bows,” Hillary added cheerfully, having apparently drunk the Kool-Aid.
“Come give us a hand, H,” June suggested.
“Ah…I’ve got to make some calls,” he said, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward his room. He liked the ladies, but not enough to redecorate a Christmas tree.
“What,now?” June asked. “What about happy hour?”
Happy hour had been going all day, but he didn’t think he should point that out. “I’ve got three calls from my manager waiting to be returned. I better do that before he gives himself an aneurysm.”
“That happened to my uncle,” said Carol. “He was sitting there talking and then poof, he was gone, just like that.” She snapped her fingers as she swayed her hips to the music.
“Just like that?” Melissa asked. “No warning?”
Harrison went out before he was dragged into a conversation about aneurysms.
He showered then called Clay.
“Harrison!” Clay shouted into the phone when he picked up. “How’s that knee?”
“Improving.”
“I knew Hillary would get the kinks worked out. When can we expect you in Scotland? This time of year, what with the weather, you need to give yourself plenty of time. Come before Christmas. That will give you time to acclimate.”
“I haven’t decided about Scot—”
