“I think Emerson’s on the right track,” Blythe agreed, tossing back her champagne, before turning to look at her fiancé. “Let’s go back to our room.”
Her direct and suggestive tone made it very clear what they were going back to their room to do.
Colton lit up. “Yeah. Sounds great.”
When Colton turned to grab his suit jacket that he’d taken off, and Blythe moved to put both of their flutes back, Darcy mouthed to Emerson,thank you.
Her best friend smiled softly back at her, waving her off. Admittedly, she was sure Emersondidwant to go back to her own room and try to sleep. But still.
“Goodnight!” Darcy was thrilled to see them off, ushering them to the door.
Blythe gave her a suspicious stare over her shoulder as they went. Probably because Darcy was usually the one wanting to hang out later into the night. Which was because she couldn’t fucking sleep, and she’d love to have the company.
Tonight, she was primed and ready to have mind-numbingly good sex, followed by a night of real sleep. At the very least, it would be a test: had that first night with Juliet been anomalous, or could they recreate it?
She was deeply hoping for, and expecting, the latter.
Much like the first night,Juliet was ready for her.
She opened the door as Darcy approached, allowing her in.
And, much like the first night, Darcy walked past her and into Juliet’s house.
Juliet’s… mansion? She wasn’t sure what the size requirement was that made a house a mansion, but Juliet’s certainly seemed like it qualified.
She’d been preoccupied the last time she’d been here, crossing the threshold into the lion’s den as a woman on a mission. This time, she slowed as she entered, taking stock of what was around her.
Yep, this was the spacious foyer that they’d fucked in, at first.
Farther into the airy open room was the large, cushy couch that they’d continued to have sex on.
The front of Juliet’s home was nearly all windows, other than where the fireplace was built in. So was the back, giving a view – as Darcy had seen in the morning last week – of a spacious backyard with a lot of greenery.
Even with the windows, though, Juliet’s house was built so far back on her property, nothing about it was visible from the gate. The gate itself was at least six feet tall, providing a solid wood surrounding. When the gate opened for her, she walked down an impeccably maintained brick path, surrounded by flowers and trees.
The floors were all hardwood and the throw blankets Juliet had on her couch and one of the chairs gave the living area a very warm look. Before she’d been here, she’d expected it to look like one of those brand new homes on HGTV, where everything was sparkling white and had no personality.
Far from it, though, in a very comforting way.
She could see, in the back of the room to the left, the start of where the kitchen was, but couldn’t see everything because of one of the walls sectioning off another area of the house.
“So…” She started, turning to face Juliet, who, unlike Darcy, hadn’t taken off her ensemble from the award show.
Her champagne-colored dress held against her breasts and her hips. Not skintight, but very flattering. It ended mid-thigh, a little higher than most of Juliet’s typical wardrobe. Her chest and arms had a lace overlay, but there was a large triangle cut out in the back that revealed the top of her spine and her shoulder blades and wasentirelytoo sexy for how little it actually revealed.
“You sure you don’t want to go out to celebrate? You sure look like you want to,” Darcy joked.
Juliet had lookedsopleased, though, when her name had been called. She’d been seated relatively close to Darcy, and she’d immediately stared at her when her name had been called. Sure, she’d felt the piercing gut punch of losing.
But… there had been a pleased flush on Juliet’s cheeks that she couldn’t fake. The sweet but ingenuine smile she loved to flash around was beautiful, but – as Darcy had learned – artificial. The sexy, biting smile she gave Darcy when she was pleased with herself was, truthfully, even more beautiful, but she didn’t wear it in public.
She’d started really trying to take note of the parts of Juliet that seemed real and the ones that were faked for the image, and that look, that radiant joy that had splashed across Juliet’s face had been so real.
Real was Juliet’s best look. Even if she was snarking or insulting someone, even if that someone was Darcy.
“Are you sure you didn’t want to go out to find some comfort after such a devastating loss?” Juliet shot right back, folding her arms over her chest.
She shrugged. “I told you before: I don’t want to go to an afterparty by myself. Where’s the fun in that?”
