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I grinned back even as sadness crept into my chest and my belly and everywhere in between. I was lonely. More than that, I was…yearning.
For August. Merely for sex, of course.
Lots and lots of sex.
Trying to play it cool, I waited until we were back in my truck to ask the question lingering in my mind. Ivy was complaining—loudly—about not being able to drive a stick while I snickered and made jokes about finding out if her husband agreed.
She flipped me the middle finger and managed to make it out of Vee’s driveway without leaving my engine on the blacktop. Narrowly.
“Did August tell you about his latex issues?” I asked finally.
“Better question is, did he tell you?”
She accelerated and I looked behind us to see if I was missing a muffler on the street. “I’m thinking I’m still better off driving. Or Uber?”
“Or we could call Rory. Or better yet, August. What about August, huh? Then you can get the straight skinny on all his thoughts on latex and proper usage and such. Unless you already contacted him. C’mon, you know you did.”
My face started burning to match the fingers I was currently twisting in my lap. Who needed gloves? Embarrassment clearly created warmth.
“I have no need for such information.”
“No? Seems like you might, since he decided to chat condoms with you at the wedding. That’s what you did, right? Talk?”
Among other things.
“How did you forget how to drive a stick?”
“Oh, you never forget. Comes right back as soon as you climb on the…horse.” She shot me a blazing grin with her jaunty pompom knit hat askew.
“I just bet. Your dad taught you on that old truck of his. Didn’t August inherit it for a while?”
“He sure did.”
“Whatever happened to it? I’m surprised August didn’t pass it to Caleb and then to you.”
“Oh, he passed it to Caleb, all right, and then it had to be fumigated after he went to the lookout point in it one dozen times too many.” She wrinkled her nose and lurched around a corner, making me brace myself in case we suddenly became airborne.
I nearly asked about August’s history with the old truck before I bit my lip to stifle myself. Then he picked that moment to follow-up on the text I had not yet answered.
I ignored it, staring straight ahead as my phone buzzed in my pocket.
“Aren’t you going to answer my brother?”
“What? Huh? Why?”
“You texted him to ask about the latex allergy, right? I mean, why else would he be texting you, except to answer your question?” A pregnant pause filled the truck. “Can’t think of any other reason, can you?”
I frowned. Was Ivy baiting me? Did she know something? Probably just my guilty conscience kicking into gear.
“No, of course not. But how do you know that’s August?”
“He’s texted you before when I was with you and had my phone off, remember? That’s the tone you said you gave him.”
No. I didn’t remember much right now. Except that I should’ve stuck to water.
At least the text buzzing stopped.
“We’
