Page 28 of Stand Your Ground

“Touché.”

“Who were you texting?”

“No one.”

My best friend leveled me with a glare then. She was so beautiful I sometimes wondered if she could have been a model, had she not chosen the life of plant lady and community do-gooder. Her hair was natural at the moment — tight coils that framed her face like a crown, soft and full of life. Her skin was a rich, glowing brown that seemed to drink in the sunlight, radiant in a way that made you stop and stare. She wore a wrap skirt and a loose, off-the-shoulder blouse like she’d just wandered out of a bohemian dream barefoot, grounded, and completely at ease. Maven didn’t ever have to try to be gorgeous. She simply was. Earthy. Ethereal. Unshakably herself.

Before she started dating Vince Tanev, she’d been quite prickly, too. She still had that edge about her, but her now-husband had given her warm, strong arms to relax in. He’d made her feel safe enough to put down her sword.

I envied what they had, even if I pretended like it was the last thing I wanted for myself.

“You are such a little shit,” she whisper-yelled, pinching my elbow again.

“Ow-ah-chuh!”

“You had a goofy grin on your face and if there’s anything to make me suspicious, it’s that. So, who were you texting? Tell me right now.”

“It was Carter! You sadist.” I rubbed my arm. “Now stop assaulting me so we can help our friend pick her wedding wardrobe.”

“Carter Fabri?” She scrunched her nose.

“Do we know another Carter?”

“Why is he texting you?”

“Why else but to be an annoying fly buzzing around my face?” I feigned indifference and nonchalance, shrugging as I looped another moonstone onto the delicate fourteen-karat chain with my pliers. “You know him and his corny pickup lines. Apparently, I’m his favorite victim to test them on.”

Maven relaxed a bit at that, all the suspicion leaving her eyes as she settled her back against the couch again. She knew as well as anyone else in this room that Carter had been a flirt toward me since we met. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to text me or trip over himself whenever we were all together.

And it wasn’t a lie — hehadbeen texting me lines, although the one about wanting to make me moan again had been anything but corny.

Still, my best friend didn’t need to know that I’d taken on the role ofSex Professor. At least, not right now. She also didn’t need to know that I had an impenetrable grin on my face not just from the glorious deposit that hit my account earlier today, but because I was excited to see Carter this weekend, to give him another lesson.

That part surprisedme— so I knew it would make Maven fall out on the floor.

I was remiss to admit it, but I’d gone into that first night with Carter thinking this whole arrangement would be like a second job to me, something that took my time and energy in exchange for a paycheck.

What had surprised me was thatfunwas included in that exchange, too.

I’d thoroughly enjoyed it — bossing Carter around, discovering his muscled body and thick cock, coaching him through all the ways to please me with that mouth of his.

I was just as eager for round two as he was, even if I’d never admit it.

Maven smirked. “Ah, well — that tracks. Did you tell him he may want to make an appointment with an eye doctor after that shot he missed?”

I barked out a laugh. “You chirp almost as well as your husband now.”

“Who do you think taught him?”

We turned our attention back to Chloe as Maven slid her arm under mine with a smile, cuddling me as we voted yes or no on the next round of outfits. When we transitioned from dresses to swimsuits, Grace brought the conversation full circle.

“I know we were joking about the whole goddess of fertility thing earlier, but on a serious note… where do you and Will stand on the whole baby thing?” She drained the last of her beer before setting the empty bottle on the coffee table. “You can totally tell me to fuck off, too. It’s none of my business, and I know it’s an invasive question. But also… I’m nosy, and you two are hot as fuck, and I think you’d make really cute babies. If you want to, of course.”

Chloe’s skin turned a lovely shade of pink as she held up a white one-piece that we all immediately vetoed.

“Too virginal,” I said.

When she held up an emerald-green two piece with strappy hip bottoms and a triangle top weknewwould show off her cleavage gloriously, we applauded like she’d just sung in an opera.