Christy and Brooke each grabbed a bag of groceries. Trip and I hefted two cases apiece and followed them. The girls started unloading the food, while he and I returned to the car for another load. He grabbed the box of liquor, which left me with the heavy lifting.
“Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically.
He grinned. “Don’t mention it.”
Mark joined us in the clubhouse as I deposited the last of the wine coolers on the floor with the others.
“How much are you gonna drink?” I asked.
“We brought enough to share.” He laughed and gestured at our own supply. “I didn’t know you’d have a full bar!”
“We have an account with the liquor store,” Trip said. “Costs a small fortune, but the girls’re happy.”
“The liquor store?” Mark said. “Like, only one?”
“Small town,” I said. “There’re a dozen churches, but only one liquor store.”
“And I bet no strip clubs at all,” he laughed.
“Well, they do have a nudist camp,” I said dryly.
“Speaking of which,” Christy interrupted, “we’re going to hang out with the girls.” She stretched upward, and I bent for a kiss on the cheek. Then I patted her bottom and sent her on her way.
Mark waited until the door closed behind them, although he moved to get a better view of Brooke and her curves as she crossed the patio.
“Holy crap,” he said at last. “Is she really a swinger?”
“Oh, yeah,” Trip said.
“She doesn’t say much,” Mark added, “but she doesn’t need to. Not with a body like that.”
He wasn’t normally a beauty-over-brains type, but I cut him some slack. Brooke had that effect. And, as Trip had already pointed out, I could afford to be nonchalant about her—I was sleeping with her, after all.
“Holy crap,” Mark repeated, almost reverently. “I’m usually an ass-man, but tits like hers might convince me.”
“No kidding,” Trip agreed with a chuckle. “Wait till you see ’em wrapped around your dick.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. And she sucks like a Hoover.”
Mark nodded in appreciation.
“She takes it up the ass, too,” Trip added. “We’ll have to make her airtight.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
I decided to put an end to the locker-room banter before it went too far. I wasn’t immune to it myself, but Brooke deserved better.
“That’s enough, guys,” I said.
Trip flashed a look of annoyance. “Dude, we’re just talking.”
“I know, but…” I wanted to ask if he ever talked about Wren like that, but I bit my tongue instead.
“Paul’s right,” Mark said.
“Yeah, whatever,” Trip said.
I reminded myself that he wasn’t a bad guy. He was better than most, in fact. Besides, his double standards weren’t his fault, and starting an argument wasn’t likely to change them.
Mark came to my rescue before the tension erupted into confrontation. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together in anticipation.
“So, this place is amazing,” he said. “The girls’ve been telling me…”
* * *
We relaxed around the pool after dinner. Trip brought out his guitar, and he and Christy entertained us with their greatest hits. Wren caught my eye about halfway through. She nodded toward the clubhouse and then stood, so I took the hint and followed.
“What’s up?” I said when the door closed behind us. “You need help with the sangria or something? It’s delicious, by the way.”
“Thanks. It’s a simple recipe.”
“Yeah, but that’s what you do. Take a few simple ingredients…”
“Peaches are in season,” she demurred. “But that isn’t what I wanted to talk about.” She nodded toward the sink and the dishes from dinner. “Help me with those?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Someone has to do it,” she explained. “And we might as well work while we talk.”
“All right.” I suppressed a grin. She reminded me of Carter, who used the dishes as an excuse to organize his thoughts.
We set to work. Wren washed, while I rinsed and set the plates in the rack to dry. I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, so I bided my time. She grew angry at first, but she worked through it. Then she became concerned. Finally, she settled on curious, with an extra helping of annoyed.
“So, what’s up with you and Christy?” she said. “I mean, why’re you in charge of swinging all of a sudden?”
“What do you mean?” I asked neutrally.
“I wanted to talk about plans,” Wren explained, “but she told me to talk to you. Is that your new rule or something?” she demanded.
“Not mine,” I said. “Hers.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped.
I chuckled deliberately, if only to ease the tension and keep from snapping in return. “Just what I said. It’s her rule.”
“You didn’t lay down the law?” She puffed out her chest and said in a macho voice, “I’m the man. Do as I say.”
I stopped rinsing and gave her a flat look. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, all right,” she admitted, a little calmer.
Still, I felt the urge to drive the point home. “Do you really think I could force her to do something she didn’t want to?”
“No.”
“Exactly. I wouldn’t try, either. But to answer your question… No, I didn’t ‘lay down the law’ or anything like that.”
“Then… why the change?”
“She tried to organize things before, but it didn’t go so well.”
“When? Not with Carter and Kim. With Lily and whatshisname? Yeah, she told me. But… I thought it went well?”
“It did and it didn’t,” I said.
“Yeah, okay, I get it,” Wren said. “But just because it didn’t work once doesn’t mean quit altogether. Why didn’t she ask for help?”
“She did,” I said simply.
“Not from me. Not Susan or your mom, either. I think they’d’ve told me.”
I shook my head and confirmed it.
“Then… who?”
“Me.”
Wren rolled her eyes but thought about it and eventually nodded. “She likes when you’re in charge. And not just in bed.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Besides, you know how she is. She doesn’t do things directly. She works in the background.”
“No kidding.” Wren turned introspective and then laughed. Her shoulders relaxed, and she shook off her attitude from earlier. “She doesn’t need me to protect her, does she? Especially not from you.”
“No, but I think she appreciates it when you do.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She paused. “Sometimes I forget… You’re a good guy.”
“Thanks. You too. I mean… you know. You’re a good woman. That sounds patronizing, but you know what I mean.”
She rolled her eyes. Then she busied herself with the last of the silverware. We worked in silence until we finished. She pulled the drain plug, rinsed it, and set it aside. Then she stared at the backsplash and absently dried her hands.
“Things’ll never be the same,” she said at last. “Not after this summer.”
“What? With us? You and me?”
“Me and Trip. You and Christy. Leah… Erin… Everyone.”
“No,” I said, with heavy finality.
“Have you thought about when you’re gonna ask her?”
“Not really.”
Wren rolled her eyes, in exasperation this time.
“Yeah, I know,” I said.
“Look, I know you don’t like it when I— What’d you call it? A ‘marketing campaign’? Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re running out of time. It has to be this week.” She leaned against the counter and gave me a pointed look. “What’s the problem?”
“No problem. I’ve just been… busy.”
“Doing what?” she scoffed. “Playing ‘tag’ at five in the morning?”
“That really was my fault,” I told her. “I woke her this morning.”