She hesitates and then asks, “There won’t be any hooker bunnies, will there?”
I come back to the bed and lie down beside her, stealing the lock of hair from between her fingers. “It’s not gonna be like one of those parties at Lance’s. It’s a fundraiser for breast cancer. I don’t know who all is gonna be there, but people will take pictures. It’s inevitable. This is where that whole trust thing comes in, Sunny. It’s a social event. I’m there to make a donation, and then I’m coming back to you, because you matter. The bunnies don’t. Can you try to keep that in mind when the pictures start rolling in?”
She nods.
“I should put on some hooker-bunny repellent to be safe, shouldn’t I?”
Grabbing her by the ankles, I drag her to the edge of the bed until her legs hang off the end.
“What are you doing?”
I hook my thumbs into the waist of her shorts and pull them down, along with her panties. “Putting on bunny repellent.” I drop to my knees on the floor. Her book is still lying open on her stomach. “I’ll be thinking about you the entire time I’m there. As soon as I get back I’ll rub some of that pink lotion on your poison ivy.”
“’Cause that’s so sexy and all.”
“You don’t think so?” I kiss the spot below her navel. I don’t have time to warm her up.
Randy knocks on the door. “Butterson, we gotta go unless you wanna be there all day.”
“Two minutes!” I shout back.
Then I put my mouth on her and erase the sad look from her face, replacing it with another orgasm.
***
The fundraiser is about half an hour away. We don’t take the rental, which would be lame. Instead we borrow one of Waters’ cars. He has two in the garage. One’s a truck with sweet rims. The other is an old-school Iroc Z with an eagle painted on the hood.
“Waters is a weirdo, isn’t he?” Randy eyes our ride.
“He’s marrying my sister, so yup.”
“Not that I’m complaining.” He slides into the red-leather interior. The whole thing has been redesigned so the inside looks like a racecar.
I don’t expect we’ll be gone too long. All we need to do is write a check, get the car washed, schmooze with the host, and I can get back to Sunny. We’ve only got another night or two before Randy goes back to Chicago. I don’t have to get back right away, but Sunny has work, and that means going back to Guelph. I’ll bite the bullet and stay a couple extra days there, even if it means awkward dad conversations and sleeping in the spare room.
As soon as we pull out of the driveway, I start with the questions. “So? What’s the deal?”
“Huh?” Randy’s on his phone, texting. He pauses and sniffs. He lifts the bottom of his shirt to his nose and follows with his fingers. “What’s that smell?”
“Bunny repellent.”
“Say what now?” He arches a brow.
I repeat myself, but don’t elaborate.
“It smells a lot like *.” He cracks a window and goes back to texting.
“Speaking of, what happened with Lily?”
She came through the kitchen to get coffee while I was cutting peaches for Sunny and me. She was wearing Randy’s T-shirt. She was also friendly. It was very un-Lily.
“We had fun. Several times.” He doesn’t pause his texting. “I’m hoping to have even more fun tonight.”
“Oh, yeah?” I try to see what’s on his screen, but it’s impossible to read and drive at the same time. “Who’re you texting?”
“No one.”
“Please tell me you don’t have plans to meet up with a bunny this afternoon?” I don’t need more drama. I’ve already had enough over the past week.
“No, man. I’m not a total asshole.” He sends one more message and pockets his phone. About two miles down the road from Waters’ cottage, I spot a camping trailer parked halfway in the bushes. I slow down.
“Is that Bushman and Benji?”
Randy frowns as we pass. “Maybe? It’s hard to tell.”