The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (20 page)

Very slowly, she tilted her head to the side.
“Telling me your life story?”

He nibbled her earlobe, letting his tongue
trace each individual pearl, feeling her tremble as he blew air
across her damp skin. “You smell so good,” he whispered.

She moaned and leaned into him. “You’re
evil.”

Chuckling, he kissed his way across her
wind-blown cheeks to her lips, his hands still braced in the sand.
Hers were gripping his shoulders—whether to hold him back or keep
him close, he wasn’t sure.

She let him kiss her. Unlike the time in the
cabin, however, she didn’t jump on top of him. He wanted to tap
into that passion again, feel her come alive, not hold herself
still and rigid and careful.

At least she wasn’t fighting it anymore, this
chemistry between them. While his mouth explored hers, he tried to
figure out how to get her back to his cabin.

Stupid of him to start anything on the cold
beach. It was like making out in a sandy glacier. His hands were
going numb in the wet sand. He could hardly push her onto her back
next to the piles of decomposing kelp and rip her clothes off in
twenty-mile-an-hour gusts with the tide coming in.

“Shall we continue this at my place?” he
asked in her ear.

“I have a date with Alex.”

He pulled back, his mind dulled from the
blood pooling elsewhere. He must have misunderstood. “He’ll
understand if you cancel. After you explain.”

She sighed and rolled away from him. Her
cheeks were even more flushed now, and her lips looked damp and
swollen. Kissed. Scooping up another handful of sand, she went back
to making her castle without meeting his eyes. “There’s nothing to
explain.”

Still on his hands and knees, he ducked his
head to make her look at him. “Lucy… ”

“We’ll just stop doing this. You promise to
stop initiating, and I’ll promise to stop responding.” She patted
the base of her tower, still not looking at him. “’Kay?”

He gaped at her. “And why would I agree to
this?”

“You know there’s no future between us.
Unless you’re looking to settle down.” She gave him a bright, fake
smile. “Want to get married?”

“You don’t mean that. With me or with Alex.”
He got to his feet and slapped the sand off his knees. “You don’t
even
like
Alex.”

“I don’t know him well enough, which is why
I’m not going to give up on the idea just because”—she waved her
hand between them as if she were dispersing a bad odor—“part of me
isn’t governed by reason.”

“Yeah,” he said, “I like those parts.”

“Sure you do.” She stood up, walked away from
him into the surf. She bent at the waist to rinse the sand off her
hands.

Miles was struck by the perfection of the
view. He strode over, grabbed her from behind, pulled her against
him.

“I’d give you time to give up on Alex on your
own but there is none,” he said, bending over to brush his lips
against the earrings again. “Take advantage of what we’ve got here.
Enjoy each other. You can bag a husband any time.”

She wriggled away and swatted his arm. “Any
time? Please. Clock’s ticking here, buddy. You don’t want to deal
with a woman in a hurry? Bark up a younger tree.” She gave him a
big, toothy smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure there are
lots of twenty-two year-old women who would love to have you.”

If they’d been in a cozy, dry,
comforter-filled spa cabin when he’d made his move, they’d be naked
by now. He slapped the sand off his feet, watching her do the same,
and they put on their shoes.

Getting to his feet, he gestured to the path
up the beach. “Let’s head back.”

She fell into step beside him. “Look, know
I’m sending mixed signals. I’m sorry.”

“No problem, I understand.”
So long as
your signals to Alex are mixed in the opposite direction.
“You’ve been very up-front with me.”

She sighed, apparently relieved, and he let
her walk ahead of him up the path. “Thank you. It would be selfish
to have any drama between us stress out the lovebirds this week.
They’re having enough trouble with his parents.”

Watching her bottom sway as she hiked, Miles
realized he’d almost forgotten about his own parent trouble. That
was the great thing about lust. The ultimate amnesia. He was
dreading the next few days, how he’d feel like a dumb, angry kid
every time he saw the coldness in his father’s eyes, the measuring
hunger in his stepmother’s. Getting Lucy naked just might make it
bearable.

They hiked back to the spa, only breaking the
silence to comment on the birds or terrain. When they reached the
fork in the path leading to her cabin, he took a deep breath and
asked casually, “Want to have some tea at my place? Just to warm
up?”

But she wasn’t fooled. She glanced at him and
shook her head before striding away.

He stared after her.
Has she ever given in
to that passion before? Just let loose?

She thought she wanted a husband, but her
body knew better.

It would thank him for showing her the
truth.

* * *

When Lucy thought she was finally out of
Miles’s sight, she glanced back over her shoulder.

Just the trees.

She sighed, both relieved and disappointed.
It was like being fourteen again to have a craving for someone so
inappropriate. Back then she would’ve called it love if she thought
about a guy fifty-nine seconds out of every sixty; if the hair on
the back of her neck stuck up just because he touched her; if she
couldn’t control herself around him.

I’m too old for this
. As long as she
reminded him of her goals, she’d be able to keep him away.
Mentioning marriage was like flinging a crucifix at Dracula.
Begone, servant of Satan! Tongue to yourself, hands at your sides,
spawn of the devil!

Time to get serious. She hurried the rest of
her way to her cabin, deciding to call Alex and push their date to
seven. That would give her time to wash the sand out of her
hair.

She rested her head against the door,
overwhelmed with the memory of Miles kissing her over the sand
castles. She’d almost jumped him again, right there in front of the
gulls and the kelp. If he’d touched her, if he’d pushed it, Lucy
would have done anything.

She heard a gasp and spun around. Fawn was
running down the path to the cabin, barefoot, tears streaming down
her face. The pretty silver heels that matched her floral chiffon
blouse and designer slacks dangled from one hand.

Lucy flung open the door and helped her
inside. “What happened?”

Fawn threw herself face-down on the bed and
began to cry.

Gritting her teeth, Lucy kicked off her muddy
boots as fast as she could and fell to her knees beside Fawn on the
bed. “What did he do?”

“It’s what he didn’t do,” Fawn choked
out.

“Because his parents were there?”

She pounded the duvet. “I
hate
them.”

Lucy rubbed her back, cursing the Sterlings
under her breath. “Oh, Fawn. You deserve so much better.”

“Dinner last night was bad, but lunch today
was worse. They just won’t give it up! They’re horrible!”

“Is it the modeling? They’d rather you were
an investment banker or lawyer or something?”

Fawn flipped over and sat up, wiping her
eyes. “I was all prepared for that, even had a little suck-up
speech about my degree from Cal being so important to me, how I
could casually mention my SATs and my net worth just to show them
I’m not just some stupid bimbo.”

“Don’t even say ‘just.’”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. They don’t
even look at me, not once, let alone insult me. It’s like I’m not
even there. I couldn’t tell you the eye color of either one of
them.” She leaned forward. “Any of them. Huntley was the worst of
all.”

Lucy grabbed her hands and squeezed. “I’ll
kill him.”

“He was ashamed of me.” She glared at Lucy
through her tears. “How can I marry a man who’s ashamed of me?”

Lucy swallowed.
Oh, shit.
“You
can’t.”

Lucy banged on Betty and Krista’s cabin door.
It was past six. Hopefully they hadn’t already gone over to the
Snowy Egret for dinner; she’d rather not track them down in front
of a crowd.

Betty opened the door wearing only a towel
and a smile. Her black and green hair was wet and combed back away
from her forehead, emphasizing her bright eyes. Then she saw Lucy,
and her smile fell. “Oh, it’s you.” She glanced over Lucy’s
shoulder.

“Waiting for somebody?”

“I thought Jaynette might come back.”
Sighing, Betty opened the door wider and stepped aside to let Lucy
in. “Probably for the best. Easy to overdo it, you know? I wouldn’t
want her to get the wrong idea. I like yoga, but I’m not about to
shack up in a spa for the rest of the year to find out how
much.”

Lucy didn’t have time to get into Betty’s
love life. “I need your car,” she said. “Fawn needs to get away for
a while.”

“Away from here?”

“Huntley’s being a dick.”

“Shitty timing.”

“Yeah.”

Chewing her lip, Betty strode over to the
bedside table, shoved aside a purple vibrator, a bottle of lube,
and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos to unearth her cell phone.
“Krista’s got it. She was going through retail withdrawal. Went to
Mendocino with Fawn’s mother to shop, have dinner.” She dialed,
glanced up. “They wanted to ask you to come but couldn’t find
you.”

“I was hiking.” Lucy rubbed her lips,
remembering what else she’d been doing. “Maybe we can catch up with
them. Fawn would love to be with her mom, get away from this place
for a while.”

Or longer. They could brainstorm together on
how to get Fawn through this. Worst-case scenario, they could
reschedule the wedding—not like money was an issue. Hell of a lot
easier to cancel a wedding than a marriage.

Betty shook her head and dropped the phone
back on the bedside table. “No coverage. Want me to try at the
lodge?”

“I’ll call her myself if I can get out of
here. Who else has a car?”

Smirking, Betty tucked the towel more tightly
around her breasts and stuck her hand in the bag of Doritos. “We
could ask Jaynette. She wanted to take me for a ride down the coast
tonight and I turned her down.”

“That would be great. If she could drop us
off in Mendocino, we could get a ride back with Krista and
Geri.”

“If Fawn wants to come back,” Betty said,
mouth full of chips. “She should pack her bags just in case. Shows
him she’s serious and gives her an escape hatch.” She picked up the
spa phone and dialed.

Sighing, Lucy glanced at the clock. What a
mess. They never should have taken Huntley’s limo up here. She
hated being dependent upon other people.

“Hey, babe, it’s the Green Hornet,” Betty
said into the phone in a throaty growl. “I’ve got a favor to ask.
Groom’s an asshole and the bride needs a ride. One-way to Mendo.
Your offer still good?”

Lucy turned away and walked to the door to
tune out the low-voiced sex talk that followed. After a minute,
Betty dropped the towel and the phone and jogged around the bed to
a pile of clothes on the floor. “Your cabin, ten minutes,” Betty
said, bending over.

“Nice love bites,” Lucy said, staring at the
red marks on Betty’s bare thighs.

“No shit,” Betty said, pulling a T-shirt over
her head. “You’d think I’d been snakebit and she was sucking out
the venom.”

“Glad somebody’s having a nice time,” Lucy
muttered, adding her thanks, then ran back to her cabin to tell
Fawn about their plans.

A mountain of suitcases at her feet, Fawn sat
on the edge of the bed with an open bottle of champagne braced
between her thighs and a fierce scowl on her face.

“I’m not coming back,” she declared, lifting
the bottle to her lips.

“One step at a time,” Lucy said. “Let’s get
out of here, talk, clear our heads.” She plucked the bottle out of
Fawn’s two-handed grip. Surprised it was half empty, Lucy took a
closer look at her friend’s face. “I was gone five minutes.”

“I’m in mourning.” She reached out for the
bottle.

Lucy marched into the bathroom and poured it
down the sink. “You need to stay clear-headed. Figure this out
rationally.”

Fawn burst in behind her and grabbed her arm.
“That was two hundred dollars’ worth!”

“Just saving it the trip through your
kidneys,” Lucy said. “Come on, Betty’s new girlfriend is giving us
a ride to the coast. Mendocino’s not far.”

“I want to go home.”

“We’ll talk about it.”

They dragged Fawn’s luggage outside just as
Betty and the yoga instructor were driving up in a golf cart.

Jaynette was much younger than Lucy expected,
a pretty, wide-eyed blonde with a delicate steel nose ring. For all
her cynical remarks, Betty looked dopey and pleased to be back with
her new squeeze. She jumped out to help load up Fawn’s luggage.

There was too much. “We’re going to need a
bigger boat,” Betty said, eyeing the pile of suitcases.

Jaynette pulled out a walkie-talkie. “I’ll
call Shawn. He owes me a favor.”

Sure enough, in two minutes the staffer
purred up in another cart. When he saw who needed the ride, and all
the suitcases at her feet, he hesitated.

“Not for us to meddle, Shawn,” Jaynette said.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

With a nod, he jumped out and loaded up the
rest of Fawn’s luggage. The women got into the cart with Jaynette,
and they puttered off to the Greeting Lot in silence.

Except for Fawn. She was coping with her
grief by indulging in drunken revelry. “It’s just like Thelma and
Louise,” she yelled, grinning.

“Good thing she’s not driving,” Jaynette said
to Betty.

Jaynette’s car was an early ’90’s Subaru
wagon, mostly red except for a silver hood. The rear bumper was
missing. She scurried over and ran around the car to unlock the
doors and open the trunk.