She looked over at Reggie, who was still sitting on the sofa. He just flipped his palms up, like yeah, I love to wash the panties.
Delaney had been in some interesting situations before, some of her own making and some created by fate, but this might be a new low. Reduced to wearing a groupie’s discarded underpants. But she was low on options right now. Her own bra was still flapping in the wind on Interstate 94, and heaven only knew when or how she’d get to a store. She had no car, no money, no phone, no anything. All she had was Grant and the clothes on her back. The very wet clothes on her back.
“Thanks,” she said to Humphrey. “I might just have a look.”
She reached into the drawer as if it was a snake pit.
“Anything in there for me?” Grant asked, peering over her shoulder.
“Only if you’re into women’s panties,” Humphrey answered.
“Only when I’m invited,” Grant answered.
“Nice,” Delaney murmured. “That’s very nice. Very gentlemanly of you.”
“You guys hungry?” Reggie called out. “We got Hot Pockets, yeah?”
Delaney stared into the mirror in the boogie-woogie room and tried to wrestle her damp hair into a ponytail. Her new skanky-ho bra fit pretty well, and the T-shirt and pants from Humphrey were soft and warm. Certainly better than wet jeans, and she was finally starting to thaw. Now she just needed to call Melody and figure out where the heck to have the Paradise Brothers drop them off.
Grant came in and shut the door just as she was about to dial, and he started to undo his pants.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
He glanced around the room as if wondering who she was talking to. “I’m changing my clothes,” he said when he realized he was it.
“You can’t wait until I’m out of here?”
His smile was classic big bad wolfy. “You’ve seen pretty much all of me, remember?”
She did remember. Very clearly. She remembered what he looked like naked and sudsy, and she damn well remembered what he felt like pressed up against her in that Volkswagen. Her cheeks flamed, and he chuckled.
“Such a Girl Scout,” he whispered and continued to get undressed.
She turned her back to him and dialed Melody’s number. Her sister answered on the fourth ring. “Mel, it’s Lane. I need an update.”
“It’s not a good time right now,” her sister murmured into the phone. “The producers are here and Mom—”
“Delaney, is that you? Hello, darling,” her mother’s voice cut in, bright and chipper, the fake kind of bright and chipper. It was the voice she used when things were terrible but she wanted to pretend they weren’t. “I was just telling Harvey the producer, you remember Harvey our producer, right? Well, I was just telling him how you are out scouting locations for another Master-soaps boutique. Have you had any luck?”
Oh, God. She couldn’t do this fake song and dance right now. Not with Grant in the room. “Hi, Mom.” Delaney used the same fake bright and chipper tone. With any luck, her mother would get the hint and give the phone back to Melody. “Um, yes, I have been doing that little thing. I don’t have much to tell you right now, though.”
Delaney gave a fast glance over her shoulder and saw Grant’s muscular back as he peeled off his shirt. “Let’s talk in a few days. Meanwhile, can I talk to Melody, please?”
Her mother’s voice came through again, but more muffled and low, as if she’d covered her mouth with her hand. “Lane, where are you? Melody said your phone had been stolen. Is everything all right?”
There was legitimate concern in her tone, and Delaney felt her eyes well up with tears. She wanted to tell her mother everything and have a good, long cry, and then her mother would make her cookies and tell her everything would be fine. But it wouldn’t be fine. Her mother couldn’t get that awful sex tape back. She couldn’t make people stop saying mean things on Delaney’s Facebook page, and she couldn’t stop magazines from printing pictures of her. Her mom also couldn’t tell her what to do about incredibly sexy Grant, who was taking his clothes off right behind her in the boogie-woogie room of a tour bus.
He’d stripped down to his boxers. She could see him in the mirror’s reflection, and damn if they weren’t really plaid, just like he’d said.
None of that mattered right now, though. All that mattered at this precise moment was getting her phone, her wallet, and her forty thousand dollars back.
“Yes, I’m fine, Mom, but I really need to talk to Mel. She’s helping me with something important.”
“Oh, well that sounds fabulous, darling.” Fake-voiced mother was back. “Keep in touch, then. I’ll have you just chat with Melody about those details while I fill Harvey in.”