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This was gonna be good. Beck could tell. He leaned forward and waited.
“He farted. Loud and long and so gross, it made me want to vomit.”
“Things happen. I mean, maybe the guy had too many greens for supper.”
She looked outraged. “He could have eaten an entire cabbage patch for all I care. The guy told everyone it was me.”
He hid a smile. “He didn’t”
“He did. And they believed him. To this day, Carly, one of the girls I stayed in touch with, she calls me volcano, because apparently, it sounded like an eruption.”
“I’m going to assume that was the end of your infatuation with Vance.”
“Damn right it was.” A wicked smile crept over her face. “Last I heard, he was in jail for tax fraud.”
Beck’s cell rang just then, a shrill sound that made her jump in her chair. He grabbed it from his room and read the message from Nash Booker on his way back to the kitchen.
“Everything all right?” Sid asked.
Before he could take the time to think things through, which meant before he could talk himself out of what it was he was thinking about, he glanced up at her.
“How do you feel about coming along to a sugar shack?”
“A sugar what?”
“A buddy of mine owns some property out in the bush, and his maple trees are tapped and running. With all the snow we’ve had the last few days, the weather is perfect for a shack party.” He gave her a moment. “You in?”
“This sounds like a repeat of last night,” she said softly.
“I promise I won’t fall asleep on you.”
She slid off the stool. “Good. I’m in.”
Chapter Twelve
Living all her life on the West Coast meant that Sidney had never been to a sugar shack. Heck, up until a few hours ago, she hadn’t heard the term before. And now? A grin touched her mouth as she ate a snow cone doused in fresh maple syrup. Now she was a fan.
They’d spent the last four hours out on Hudson Blackwell’s property, which was located high up in the hills among forests that seemed to span forever. It was a vacation property spread out over at least one hundred acres, maybe more, complete with bungalows for rent that surrounded a lake for kayaking and water sports in the summer, pond hockey and ice fishing in the winter. It wasn’t Crystal Lake and not nearly as big, but for this particular slice of heaven, it was enough.
There was a good-sized gang out here, and she’d met a ton of new people. And in the gathering gloom as she stood in the shadows, warmed from the large bonfire that shot flames high into the air, she couldn’t help but marvel at the buffet of men to peruse. In fact, she’d low-key taken a few pictures and sent them to her sister. Kylie had responded with a text message.
I’m on the next plane out.
Then…
Which one is your guy?
Sid stood in a group of women who’d been lovely and friendly and super inclusive: Poppy Fairbanks, Sara Blackwell, and Honey Booker. They’d made her feel welcome, which wasn’t always the case when coming into a new group, and for that, she was grateful. She felt like she’d made some frie
nds. And yet she couldn’t stop staring at her guy. Her cheeks warmed at the thought. Her guy.
“Pretty incredible, isn’t it?”
She turned and accepted a cup of hot chocolate from Poppy. “You mean the view?”
She made a comical face and laughed. “What else?”
“You do seem to have a high ratio of extremely hot men. Is it a Crystal Lake thing, or is this phenomenon statewide?”
