Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)

“Just good? Not better than good?”


He cupped her face in his hands and bent down to kiss her. His mouth was hot and demanding, pressing against hers in a way that left her breathless.

“Better than good,” he murmured as he straightened.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest. Need made her insides clench. The man had a way about him, she thought hazily.

“Then one room should be plenty,” she told him.

“I’ll pick you up at eight Friday morning,” he told her.

“I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

“I’VE NEVER PLANNED a bridal shower,” Charlie whispered as she leaned across the table. “Or been to one. Should I have gotten a book or something?”

“You’ll do fine,” Annabelle told her. “Think of it as a regular party.”

“Because I host so many of those?”

Annabelle handed her a pad of paper. “Okay, then think of it as we’re having a bunch of Heidi’s friends over for dinner. The good news is, we’re not even cooking.” One of the advantages of taking over the newly opened banquet room at Jo’s Bar was the cooking would be done by someone else.

“That I can handle,” Charlie said. “But what about the rest of it? Mayor Marsha stopped by and asked about games. I don’t know any games.”

Annabelle did her best to hide her smile. “Don’t forget the Jordan almonds. Heidi said she wanted those for sure.”

“What the hell is a Jordan almond?”

Annabelle laughed. “How about this? We’ll order the food and the cake and the champagne today. We’ll go get the decorations and party favors next week. I’ll handle the games and you can order the flowers. Nothing fancy, just a nice arrangement for each table.”

“I’m free Saturday. Want to go then?”

“I’m, ah, going out of town this weekend.”

Charlie stared at her. “Since when?”

“Since yesterday. I’m doing to Del Mar.”

“Aren’t we fancy?” Charlie reached for her lemonade, then stopped. “Isn’t there a racetrack in Del Mar?”

“I’ve heard there is.”

“Doesn’t Shane own racehorses?”

Annabelle batted her lashes. “He might.”

“You’re going away with him for the weekend.”

She wasn’t sure if Charlie sounded outraged or impressed. Either would work.

“Yes,” she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “I’m spending the weekend with a gentleman friend.”

“Interesting. So things are going well with the gentleman friend.”

“They are. I like Shane. He’s a good guy, which is rare.”

“Tell me about it,” Charlie said with a growl.

Annabelle drew in a breath. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. Does talking about this bother you?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “No. I’m jealous, not upset or hurt. Okay, not jealous because, no offense, Shane doesn’t do it for me. It’s just you’re going away with a guy. It’s no big deal.” She smiled. “I don’t mean that in a slutty way.”

“No offense taken.”

“Good.” Charlie drew in a breath. “You’re normal. Sometimes I would like to be normal, too.”

Annabelle knew that Charlie’s first time had been so traumatizing, she’d yet to make a second attempt. “Have you talked to anyone about what happened?”

“I’m talking to you.”

“I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” Charlie said quickly. “A therapist. Yes. A few years ago. It didn’t help.”

“Did you give her a chance or did you get pissed off during the first session and never go back?”

Charlie sniffed. “I went to two sessions before she pissed me off.”

“As long as you didn’t give up.”

Her friend picked up her lemonade, then put it back down. “Fine. Maybe I should talk to someone. But not right now. When I get home, I have to go online and figure out what a Jordan almond is.”

* * *

THE DEL MAR OCEANIA Resort was one of those gated places with plenty of lush foliage and a guard. Shane pulled up behind a Lexus.

“You think if we’d brought my truck they would have turned us away?” he asked with a grin.

“Very possibly,” Annabelle said, trying not to look too impressed by the luxury villas she spotted just inside the fence line.

Instead of driving his truck, Shane had “borrowed” his brother’s car. Not Rafe’s, which would have involved simply asking. Nope, he’d taken Clay’s brand-new Cadillac CTS-V coupe, a fancy two-door model with enough power to leave mere mortal cars in the dust. Or so it had seemed when Shane had demonstrated the car’s speed on a relatively quiet part of the interstate.

“You sure Clay is going to be okay with this?” she asked, running her hands along the smooth leather seats.

Shane grinned. “My baby brother asked me to take good care of his car and I am.”

“I think he meant for you to park it in the garage, not drive it to San Diego.”

“Details.”