Page 133 of Spurred On

“Of course she didn’t.”

“Why ‘of course’?” he growled.

Porsche laughed, some lighthearted trill. Why not? Her love life wasn’t in the shitter. She could afford to be all happy and gay. “Because I would have jumped to the same conclusion, I’m sorry to say.”

“Really? If you saw Brandon coming down the hall, toward a room of frolicking vixens, with a flagon of champagne, you would assume he was sleeping with them?”

She stared at him in shock. “Oh no. Of course not.”

“But—”

“If I saw you coming down the hall, toward a room of frolicking vixens, with a flagon of champagne, I would indeed assume you were sleeping with them. You.”

“Why?”

She laughed again. This time it was less pleasant. “Because it’s you, Cody. You do have a reputation, you know.”

“Hardly deserved.”

She snorted. “Very deserved.”

“I haven’t been with another woman since Sidney came back into my life.”

Oh crap.Had he really admitted that? Out loud? To Porsche? A woman who—next to Claire—was the honorary town crier? “You can’t repeat that.”

Her lips curled into a sly smile. “I won’t repeat it. It’s just what I wanted to know. Which leads me to my next question.”

Oh lord love a duck.How long was this torture going to last?

“If I could help you get back with Sidney, would you want to?”

His pulse jerked. His nape prickled. He stared at her, unable to speak.

“Well? Would you?”

Fuck yeah.

He sat up a little straighter. “What . . . ah . . . what are you thinking?”

Her gleeful expression was beyond wicked. It shocked him. He’d never seen this side of her before. “Well, my wedding is coming up, and you’ll both be there.” She pinned him with a sharp stare. “You will be there, won’t you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” If for nothing else, to watch Ford have to give his sister away. That alone would be worth the price of admission. But if Sidney would be there . . . damn.

Porsche smiled again, this time mysteriously, and patted his hand. “Excellent. Just leave everything to me.”

“Wait. Aren’t you going to tell me what you have planned?”

“No.”

“B-but . . .”

“Stop sputtering. I can’t tell you the details.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a man,” she said as though that explained everything.

“And?”

“You’ll screw it up.”

“I will not screw it up.”

Porsche rolled her eyes. “Trust me.”

Trust her? Porsche was a flibbertigibbet. It was insanity to trust her with anything, especially something this important.

“It will be fine, Cody. I promise. Lisa, Claire, and I will take care of everything.”

Oh hell.

That hardly soothed his roiling nerves.