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“No,” he said slowly. “It is not.”
“Oh my God.” She dragged her hands through her messy hair, trying to tame it. “I need to shower! I need to not look like... like...”
“Like you just had mind-blowing sex?”
She smacked his arm. “This isn’t funny.”
He held up his fingers a millimeter apart. “It’s a little funny.”
“We see you at the window,” Anna Hendricks’ voice chimed from the porch. “Stop making kissy faces at each other and let us in. I was promised a grown-up girl’s night.”
Veronica’s face flamed, and she buried it in her hands. “Oh my God.”
Connelly cleared his throat to stifle a laugh and turned her to face him. He peeled her hands away from her face and kissed the tip of her nose. “Go shower. I’ll let them in.”
He had the bedroom door open before she realized what he looked like. Bare-chested and barefoot, his jeans hanging low on his hips, his hair a tousled mess. “You can’t go out there like that! You look like?—”
“Like I just had mind-blowing sex?” He smirked over his shoulder. “I know. Because I did.”
“Connelly…”
His laugh drowned out her warning. “You have two minutes to get to the bathroom before I let them in.”
chapter thirty
Veronica stared dumbly at her reflection in the mirror as the shower water warmed. Her hair was a mess, her mouth swollen from Connelly’s kisses, and she had a hickey on her collarbone. Her thighs were sticky with their orgasms, her sex sore from the literal pounding it just took, and yet she felt like she was floating on air.
“What the hell just happened?” she asked her reflection.
Connelly Davis had rocked her world. He’d rocked it so hard and so thoroughly that she was reasonably sure it had just shifted on its axis.
And now she had to play hostess to a bunch of women she barely knew?
The shower water finally reached a comfortable temperature, and she stepped in, letting the hot stream wash over her and rinse the evidence of their intimacy down the drain. She lost track of time under the steaming water, lost in her thoughts until she heard a knock on the bathroom door followed by Connelly’s voice.
“Vee? You can’t hide in there all night.”
Dammit. She was trying to do precisely that by drawing the shower out. Hide.
She sighed heavily. Having company was the last thing she wanted. All she wanted was to curl back into bed with him and forget about the world outside.
But instead, she turned off the shower and toweled off briskly. She dressed in soft cotton pants and a loose shirt and pulled her damp hair into a messy bun. She took a deep, fortifying breath before opening the door.
She was met with a living room full of boisterous laughter, glasses clinking, and the smell of pizza filling the air.
“Vee!” Alexis waved a glass of red wine toward her. “Come meet everyone!”
Tension curled in Veronica’s stomach like a venomous snake, but she forced herself to plaster on a polite smile as Alexis introduced everyone.
“Of course you already know Anna and Rose,” Alexis said.
Rose Rawlings— the sheriff’s wife and owner of The Mad Dog Pub— lifted her glass in a salute. “Hey, Vee.”
Anna was mid-bite of a huge slice of pizza. “Thanks for having us. I really needed some adult girl time.”
“Poppy driving you nuts?” a curvy woman with long dark hair asked. She had a baby bump under her flowy blue top and wasn’t drinking wine like everyone else.
Sasha Scott, Veronica realized, placing her name with the face. Donovan’s wife.
