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Topic change. “Is this a rental?” I’m in love with the car.
“Nah. A friend of my friend in Vegas wanted this beauty,” she says, hooking her thumb over her shoulder, “to get delivered to Temecula. I was going to hire a car to get me here, but my friend offered up the Mustang because she knew I was coming this way anyway. The catch was they needed it here before nine-thirty this morning for a pickup. So here I am.Ta-daaaa!” She raises her arms in the air and twirls around.
“And here you are.” I give her another quick hug. My friend is outgoing with a big heart, and I love her to bits.
“With eighteen minutes to spare, might I add. The car has a tracker on it, so the guy should be arriving here soon to take it off my hands.” Gwendoline threads her fingers through mine, ushering me closer to the Mustang. “Selfie time before my boyfriend here”—she lovingly caresses the side of the Mustang—“dumps me for another woman. It was good while it lasted.” She sighs dramatically. “Six hours of togetherness, and then I’m—”
“Another woman?”
“Yeah, this guy”—she pats the Mustang driver’s door—“is an early Christmas present for the guy’s wife.”
Oh, what a lucky woman.
“You can spend time with my Manny. I’ll share him.”
“Manny?”Gwendoline tilts her head to the side, one finger taps against her bottom lip, while her focus wanders over my shoulder. “Is that Manny?” Her eyes light up with interest, then she frowns. “Although he doesn’t look like a Manny, are you offering up the deliciously sexy man who seems to find you very amusing? Please, can I have him?”
“What?No!” I growl possessively. “You can’t have Tucker.” I take a deep, calming breath because I shouldn’t be reacting this way.
“Oooh,is there something you aren’t telling me?”Oh, boy.
“No!” I snap out far too defensively.
She tilts her head from side to side, studying me. “Hmmm…”
“Hmmm, what?”
“There’s something different.” She taps her chin with a manicured fingernail.
I’m conscious of Tucker listening in. “Nope! I am the same old Ophelia.”
Gwen’s eyes narrow at my comment. “Nope, there is definitely something different about you.” She’s a bloodhound on the sniffer trail. “Have you gotten laid recently?”
“No.”
She arches an eyebrow with a side-glance in Tucker’s direction. “Oh, you are a saucy minx,” she whispers. “I approve, and he couldn’t take his eyes off you when we were putting on the floor show, which is even better.”
“No. No. No.”
“Liar-liar, your undies will catch on fire. Unless, of course, you aren’t wearing any, then your va-jay-jay will—”
“I am not ly—”
“Save it. You have always been a terrible liar.” She crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head slowly. “We have a high level of trust in our sisterhood. I’ve known you too long for you to give me a lame-arse lie. The thing I’m concerned about is you have your rule book with the i’s dotted and t’s crossed, but you let handsome over there through the golden gates and into your garden—”
Oh, boy.
“—and I don’t blame you. He’s golden-gate-worthy.”
I spin to see Tucker sitting on the helicopter passenger cabin floor with his legs dangling outside, typing on his phone. His aviator glasses have slid down his nose.
He glances over at us, shaking his head, laughing at our back-and-forth dialogue. The man has been multitasking. He doesn’t miss a thing.
Then a light bulb goes off. “Is Tucker a pilot?” she whispers next to me, “I could go away and come back tomorrow if this is a bad time?”
“Yes, Tucker is a pilot, among other things.”
“Oooh, other things. I need to hear about theotherthings.”
