for the kitchen saying, “Fine, but I need a drink.”
Bethany followed, and waited patiently as Carolyn opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. The fact that the other woman passed up a glass herself told Carolyn that she still wasn’t feeling well. Bethany never passed up a glass of wine. Carolyn took a long swallow of the crimson liquid and then set down her glass and explained everything.
“So you’re playing beard again, this time to this kid in the band?” Bethany asked quietly.
Carolyn nodded.
“It’s Brent all over again.” Bethany was starting to sound angry.
“Not exactly like Brent,” Carolyn muttered uncomfortably.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Brent never did more than kiss you on the forehead. He never pushed you through the door looking the way you did just now,” she said grimly, and then accused her, saying, “You’re falling for him, aren’t you? You know he’s gay, and you’re just stupidly falling for him anyway.”
When Carolyn winced and bowed her head without answering, mostly because she was definitely in lust with the guy, Bethany snapped, “What are you thinking?”
“Apparently I’m not,” she admitted with frustration. “I didn’t mean to get into this in the first place, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I just . . .”
“Tell him you can’t do it,” Beth said firmly.
For some reason the very idea caused panic in Carolyn, and she blurted out, “I can’t. He’s counting on me.”
“Who cares?” Beth said with exasperation, and then stared at her hard. “You’re falling for a boy who likes boys . . . And you’re letting him stick his tongue down your throat so his family doesn’t know?” She clucked with disgust. “If that kiss didn’t convince them he’s not gay, nothing short of his screwing you in front of them will. Cut him loose. Tell him to go stick his tongue down some younger girl’s throat.”
Carolyn flinched, tears glazing her eyes, and Beth sighed.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t mean to be so harsh, but I don’t feel well and . . . I worry about you. At this rate you’re either going to end up some crazy old woman with a hundred cats, or a dirty old lady with Gigolos-Are-Us on speed dial.”
Carolyn gave a half-sob, half-laugh and wiped the tears from her eyes. “That’s not going to happen. Well, the cats maybe, but not the gigolos on speed dial.”
Beth pushed herself off the stool she’d settled on. “I’m going to puke again and then go to bed. We can talk more in the morning.”
Carolyn frowned. “You still aren’t keeping anything down?”
“I think it’s the flu rather than food poisoning,” Bethany muttered unhappily. “Figures I’d come down with it on my first day of vacation. Go to bed, Caro. I’m fine.”
“Right,” Carolyn murmured and glanced along the counter, then walked out into the entry to peer around there as well.
“What are you looking for?” Beth asked following her.
“My purse. I need to set my phone alarm to meet Genie for breakfast.”
“You didn’t have your purse when you came in.”
“I must have. I took it with me,” Carolyn said even as she realized she hadn’t been holding anything but Christian when he’d kissed her. She hadn’t had it in the van either, she realized, recalling clasping his arms when he’d lifted her onto his lap. She couldn’t have done that and held a purse too. Carolyn clucked impatiently. “I must have left it in the bar.”
Beth raised her eyebrows. “Do you want me to call the bar and see if someone found it?”
“No, thanks.” Carolyn moved wearily to the door. “I’ll walk down and get it. I can use the exercise and the walk will tire me out and help me sleep.”
“Well, don’t forget your key card. I’m going to bed and might not hear you knock if you forget it.”
“Got it,” Carolyn assured her, patting the breast pocket of her silk blouse just to be sure as she opened the door.
“Good night
Bethany followed, and waited patiently as Carolyn opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. The fact that the other woman passed up a glass herself told Carolyn that she still wasn’t feeling well. Bethany never passed up a glass of wine. Carolyn took a long swallow of the crimson liquid and then set down her glass and explained everything.
“So you’re playing beard again, this time to this kid in the band?” Bethany asked quietly.
Carolyn nodded.
“It’s Brent all over again.” Bethany was starting to sound angry.
“Not exactly like Brent,” Carolyn muttered uncomfortably.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Brent never did more than kiss you on the forehead. He never pushed you through the door looking the way you did just now,” she said grimly, and then accused her, saying, “You’re falling for him, aren’t you? You know he’s gay, and you’re just stupidly falling for him anyway.”
When Carolyn winced and bowed her head without answering, mostly because she was definitely in lust with the guy, Bethany snapped, “What are you thinking?”
“Apparently I’m not,” she admitted with frustration. “I didn’t mean to get into this in the first place, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I just . . .”
“Tell him you can’t do it,” Beth said firmly.
For some reason the very idea caused panic in Carolyn, and she blurted out, “I can’t. He’s counting on me.”
“Who cares?” Beth said with exasperation, and then stared at her hard. “You’re falling for a boy who likes boys . . . And you’re letting him stick his tongue down your throat so his family doesn’t know?” She clucked with disgust. “If that kiss didn’t convince them he’s not gay, nothing short of his screwing you in front of them will. Cut him loose. Tell him to go stick his tongue down some younger girl’s throat.”
Carolyn flinched, tears glazing her eyes, and Beth sighed.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t mean to be so harsh, but I don’t feel well and . . . I worry about you. At this rate you’re either going to end up some crazy old woman with a hundred cats, or a dirty old lady with Gigolos-Are-Us on speed dial.”
Carolyn gave a half-sob, half-laugh and wiped the tears from her eyes. “That’s not going to happen. Well, the cats maybe, but not the gigolos on speed dial.”
Beth pushed herself off the stool she’d settled on. “I’m going to puke again and then go to bed. We can talk more in the morning.”
Carolyn frowned. “You still aren’t keeping anything down?”
“I think it’s the flu rather than food poisoning,” Bethany muttered unhappily. “Figures I’d come down with it on my first day of vacation. Go to bed, Caro. I’m fine.”
“Right,” Carolyn murmured and glanced along the counter, then walked out into the entry to peer around there as well.
“What are you looking for?” Beth asked following her.
“My purse. I need to set my phone alarm to meet Genie for breakfast.”
“You didn’t have your purse when you came in.”
“I must have. I took it with me,” Carolyn said even as she realized she hadn’t been holding anything but Christian when he’d kissed her. She hadn’t had it in the van either, she realized, recalling clasping his arms when he’d lifted her onto his lap. She couldn’t have done that and held a purse too. Carolyn clucked impatiently. “I must have left it in the bar.”
Beth raised her eyebrows. “Do you want me to call the bar and see if someone found it?”
“No, thanks.” Carolyn moved wearily to the door. “I’ll walk down and get it. I can use the exercise and the walk will tire me out and help me sleep.”
“Well, don’t forget your key card. I’m going to bed and might not hear you knock if you forget it.”
“Got it,” Carolyn assured her, patting the breast pocket of her silk blouse just to be sure as she opened the door.
“Good night
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