“Finally, you can see what’s been obvious to the rest of us,” Daniel said. “Lacy just isn’t going there. Sorry, dude.”
“That’s okay,” Ryan said. And it was. He found that he’d been thinking of Lacy less and less often, with less and less longing. It was peculiar, really. All of the energy he’d put into it over the years—the strategizing, the one-sided flirting—and his desire for her was fading like the sunlight at the end of a cold winter day.
“So, Gen, then,” Will said.
Ryan shrugged one shoulder. “Let’s not make a big deal out of it. I was just wondering if she was over there at Jackson’s place.”
“She is,” Jackson said. “Probably wearing little pajama shorts and one of those camisoles girls like.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Ryan.
“Hey. Shouldn’t you be thinking about Kate instead of Gen and her … her pajama shorts and her …” He gestured at his own chest to indicate a camisole.
“Ha! That settles it,” Daniel said, smacking Ryan companionably on the back. “Our boy has a thing for Gen.”
“I wouldn’t call it a thing,” Ryan said.
“What would you call it, then?” Will asked.
“More like a … a yen.”
“Is a yen greater or lesser than a thing ?” Daniel pondered.
“Lesser than a thing, greater than an itch,” Jackson supplied.
“Oh, shut up,” Ryan said.
Back at Kate and Jackson’s house, the girls weren’t drinking margaritas—it was chardonnay—but they were watching a weepy chick flick, and they were sprawled all over the living room, just as he’d said.
Gen wasn’t wearing pajama shorts and a camisole, mainly because it wasn’t summer yet and it still got chilly at night. She’d opted for sweatpants and a hoodie instead.
The Notebook was just wrapping up on the TV, and Lacy was blowing her nose noisily into a wad of tissues.
“Jeez, Lacy, you’ve seen this, what? A dozen times? How can you still cry?” Rose asked, shaking her head.
“How can you not cry?” Lacy demanded. “Your heart must be made of stone. Wait, not stone. Ice. You’re a cold, icy-hearted woman.”
“Aw. I think it’s sweet that she cries,” Kate said from her spot under a fuzzy blanket on one end of the sofa.
“Thank you!” Lacy said.
“Of course, she also cries when we watch The Simpsons,” Gen observed.
“I do not.” Lacy, who was on the floor next to Gen on a pile of pillows, kicked at Gen with one sock-clad foot.
Kate turned off the TV, got up from the sofa, and started gathering up everybody’s popcorn bowls. “Anybody need more wine?”
“I better not,” Gen said. “I have to get up early. I need to get out to the Delaney Ranch and make sure Gordon Kendrick gets out of bed.” She sat up and started replacing pillows on the sofa.
“So now you’re babysitting this guy?” Rose asked. Her hair was alternating shades of green and purple. She had it pulled up into a stubby ponytail on the back of her head.
“I’m afraid that’s what it’s come to,” Gen confirmed. “I was already doing his grocery shopping and buying his damned sheets. Now I’m cleaning for him and making him take showers and … and literally making him get out of bed. I don’t know how he even lived before he had me to do everything for him. God, this guy’s an asshole.” She shook her head in disgust.
“How’s the gallery doing if you’re over at the ranch spoon-feeding the artist?” Kate asked.
“Oh, it’s okay.” Gen waved an arm dismissively. “Alex does a good job. And things aren’t too busy right now anyway. And I’ve got to make this thing work—I’ve got to make Kendrick work—or this whole investment will be for nothing.”
“And you won’t get back to New York,” Rose said. Her voice held a hint of hard judgment.
“I guess,” Gen conceded.
Rose’s expression softened, and she reached out to rub Gen’s shoulder. “Listen, honey. I’m sorry I’ve been giving you a hard time about moving. If going to New York is going to make you happy, you should go. I’m just going to miss you.”
Gen squeezed Rose’s hand. “I’ll miss you too.”
All of the talk about people missing each other got Lacy going again, and she honked into her tissues. “Can we stop talking about people leaving? I’m already a mess as it is.”
“She’s right. Let’s talk about something more fun. How’s the eye candy over at the ranch?” Kate said, waggling her eyebrows at Gen.
“The eye candy has to install a skylight in his barn. For the asshole artist. I mean, jeez. A skylight? I felt like an idiot asking Ryan to do it. I hope he doesn’t think that I think that’s a reasonable request. Because then I’d be an asshole by association. I don’t want to be an asshole by association. I’m not an asshole!”
“Of course you’re not,” Kate said, soothing her.
“It’s interesting how much you care what Ryan thinks of you,” Lacy said, peering at Gen over the rim of her wineglass.
“Well, of course I do. I care what everybody thinks.”
“I can’t live like that,” Rose said, shaking her head. “I am who I am. If people don’t like it, screw ‘em.”
“Well, sure,” Gen said. “Okay, I get that. But it’s Ryan.”
“Still nursing a yearning for the handsome rancher,” Kate observed.
Gen got up and padded into the kitchen to rinse her wineglass in the sink. “God. It’s even worse now that I have to go out there to the ranch all the time. He’s just there, with his nicely fitting jeans and his Bambi eyes and his …” She gestured with her arms to indicate height and broad shoulders. “God, the lust. I can’t even tell you about the lust I feel for that man. I just want to lick him.”
“You should,” Rose said.
“What, just walk right on up and lick him?”
“Well, not without some preliminary flirting. But, yeah.” Rose raised her eyebrows, causing the little silver ball pierced into the left one to bob.
“I haven’t … you know … licked anybody in a really long time,” Gen said. She put her clean wineglass upside down next to the sink to drain and leaned against the counter, a hand on her hip. “I don’t know if I even remember how.”
“It’s like riding a bike,” Kate said. “You’ll remember. I did. And my dry spell was even longer than yours.”
“How’s all that bike riding going, anyway?” Lacy asked Kate. “You’ve gotta have thighs of steel by now.”
Kate grinned at her. “The bike riding,” she said, “is awesome. I love bike riding. And Jackson really knows how to ride a bike.”
“God, I want to ride a bike,” Gen said wistfully.
“You need to climb up on Ryan’s handlebars,” Rose said.
Gen snatched a dish towel from the counter and flung it at Rose. “I think this metaphor is getting out of hand.”
“Seriously, though.” Lacy got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen with Gen. “You should ask him out or something. You two would be good together.”
“Maybe,” Gen said. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think,” Rose said. “Just get on the bike, and maybe ring the little bell.”
Chapter Fourteen