Page 37 of Spurred On

Chapter Seven

There were so many things on the party agenda that day, Sidney couldn’t decide what to do. But one of them was definitely going to be Avoid Cody Silver.

She couldn’t deny that a part of her wanted to find him and jump his bones again—last night had been that good—but all the other parts of her screamed it was a bad idea.

Cody Silver was a slippery slope.

If a woman let herself nibble on his brownies, the next week she would, no doubt, be standing in front of an open kitchen cabinet eating frosting out of the tub with a spoon.

Okay, a strange analogy. Maybe she was hungry.

“What do you think?” Amy said, flicking through the agenda. They were all hanging out in the library because it was the only place absent of squealing. Tibby’s friends had infested the entire ranch and were, apparently, only capable of emitting high-pitched alienlike shrieks that sadly, dogs and everyone could hear.

For example, a pod of them were riding Cody’s ponies in the paddock—which amused Sidney because, why the hell would anyone want to ride in the paddock when there was an entire ranch to explore? But given their screeches of horror, venturing beyond the fence would be tantamount to a suicide mission.

Sidney herself might have enjoyed a pony ride, but Tibby’s friends had co-opted all the ponies and the poor dears would probably never be the same. Did ponies get PTSD? They probably did. She made a mental note to take them some apples later.

“The pole dancing lessons in the bunkhouse sound like fun,” Amy said.

“They do,” Sidney sighed. What a pity the class would probably be full of howler monkeys.

“Naughty BINGO? Cowboys Against Humanity?”

Sidney’s head came up sharply. “Cowboys Against Humanity?”

Porsche grinned. “It’s just like the card game, only Claire has written her own black cards.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Totally not.”

“That sounds like a blast.” But she had to sigh again. “They’ll probably go to that too.”

“Tonight there’s a skinny-dipping party at the lake.”

“Awesome.” She could envision it now. Way too much bare skin. Lots of thrashing in the dark. Shrill cries echoing in the night. “Maybe I’ll turn in early.”

Porsche frowned at her. “Don’t be such an Eeyore.”

Sidney tossed a pillow at her; it bounced off. “I’m not the Eeyore.” She’d never been the Eeyore. Hanna was the Eeyore. She always had been. And speaking of which . . . “Where’s Hanna?”

“In your room,” Amy said. She flicked through the agenda again, as though the options might have changed. “She’s all thinky today.”

Hanna had good reason to be thinky. That morning at breakfast she’d finally admitted to Sidney why she was marrying Zack and, as Sidney had suspected, it wasn’t for love. To her dismay, Hanna had revealed that their father was in danger of losing the family ranch, and Zack had promised to pay off their debt if Hanna married him. The thought made Sidney’s blood go cold. She’d known, known, it had to be something like that.

Hanna had also admitted that she and Logan had . . . enjoyed each other the night before.

Hanna had a lot to think about.

Porsche sighed. She rearranged herself on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. “I hate when that happens.”

Amy grinned. “When Hanna gets thinky?”

“When anyone gets thinky, really.”

“It does harsh the buzz, doesn’t it?” Amy took a sip of her iced tea. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going for a walk.”

“There’s a pretty path to a pond,” Porsche said. “Why don’t I show you?”