Emma huffed. “I met someone last week. We were going to have a lunch date today, but he called and cancelled at the last minute. Said he had an emergency. So of course I said that was fine, and we could reschedule anytime. He said no, he was moving to Canada. Where in Canada? I asked. He went completely silent. Like, are you fucking kidding me? You can’t name a single province or city in Canada?” She snorted and took another gulp of wine. “Fucking Liam. I know he had something to do with it. He never thinks anyone is good enough to be Blair’s stepfather. I’m not looking for a new husband!” Frustration seeped into her voice. “I just want to get laid!”
Cecily rubbed her back in soothing circles. “Honestly, Liam probably did you a favor. If the mancouldn’t name a single province or city in Canada, do you really think he can find your clit?”
Laughter made wine shoot out my nose. “She has a point, Emma.”
“Yeah, probably.” Still looking disgruntled, she swirled the wine in her cup. “What about you, Lennon? I heard you had a terrible time at the gymkhana the other day.”
I growled into my wine. “I know it was you, Holly!” I shook my fist at the sky, like she was watching me from the clouds.
Tamilee shook her head. “What did I tell you about that? Don’t let her get under your skin.”
“She didn’t get under my skin. She got egg allovermy skin. Egg and manure.”
All three of my new friends reeled back like I like I was still covered in it with a collective “Ew!”
“I mean, I can’t prove it. But I know it was her.”
Cecily leaned toward me. “Want me to kill her?”
She looked so deadly serious that I cracked up. “Thank you, but I was thinking more along the lines of humiliations galore.”
“Got it.” Cecily bobbed her head. “We can Carrie her.”
“Carry her where?” I asked.
“No, Carrie her like Stephen King’sCarrie. We don’t have a prom, but we have karaoke night, which she always makes a big deal of because she’s so damn goodit’s honestly sickening. We could pour a bucket of pig blood on her while she’s singing. Or”—Cecily snapped her fingers—“chicken blood. That’s poetic justice, don’t you think?”
My eyes went wide. “Jesus, Cecily. That’s dark.”
“I’m kidding.” She gave my shoulder a playful shove. “Of course we’re not going to pour blood on anybody. That’s gross. Anyway, that movie didn’t end well for Carrie’s tormentors, and Holly would go absolutely apeshit on our asses. But you know what we could do? We could team up and do a karaoke song together.” The bright fervor in her eyes looked almost manic. Too much wine. “That would be so fun.”
“Um, maybe.” Truthfully, I couldn’t sing to save my life. But karaoke night sounded like fun, anyway. Even if it did mean watching everyone clap for Holly. Ugh.
“This has been fun, but it’s time for me to head out.” Tamilee stood and stretched, making her back crack. She squinted at the stables behind us. “What is that man still doing here? He’s usually turned in by now.”
I glanced over my shoulder to where Jeremiah was roping a fence post. “He’s waiting for me. I’m staying in his sister’s room while my cabin is getting fixed, remember?”
Cecily frowned. “That doesn’t explain why he’s waiting for you. You can walk the fifty feet back to the lodge alone.”
She didn’t know that Jeremiah didn’t let me go evenone foot alone. My postcard stalker was almost certainly someone here at the ranch. Of course it wasn’t Cecily, Emma, or Tamilee, but the more people who knew, the more likely it was that the stalker would go into hiding before we could find him—or worse, do something rash. So I just hummed and shrugged as I took another sip of wine.
“Hmm.” Emma studied me with a thoughtful tilt of her head. “I’m beginning to think that kiss outside Sundown wasn’t a drunk one-off. Spill, Lennon. What’s going on with you two?”
“How could something be going on when I’m leaving next month?” God, I hoped I didn’t sound as wistful as I felt. Look at him standing there, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows like he knew his forearms gave me impure thoughts. And that mustache. Christ. “We’re friends.”
Friends who kissed. I giggled because I had also had a little too much wine. “Jeremiah is a good friend of mine, who happens to be a bullfrog. Like the song.” For some reason, that struck me as hilarious and I dissolved into a fit of giggles.
Emma laughed. “Okay, goofy girl. I think it’s time for us to pack it in.” She pushed to her feet, then helped me up too.
Jeremiah must have been watching us, because he immediately started walking toward us, rolling his rope as he came.
“Here comes your bullfrog,” Emma murmured with a low laugh.
Ohhhhh.
That gave me an idea.
“Did you order something?”Jeremiah entered the apartment carrying a big gray poly mailer three days later.
