Flavor Of The Month (Kiss & Tell Book 2) by Tori Carrington

because she couldn’t imagine their circle without Jack, and his snug jeans and denim shirts, in it.
    Layla snapped Reilly back to the here and now and the uncomfortable conversation Mallory had lured her into.
    “Him who? Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Layla asked.
    Jack mumbled something under his breath. “Don’t we all have enough to worry about without adding to the mix? I’m getting a refill.”
    All three women watched him go. Simply because it was so much fun to do so. Especially since he knew they were watching him. They could make out his curses as he walked.
    “Ben Kane,” Mallory said.
    Layla nearly toppled her stool over she sat back so quickly. “What? Not the Ben Kane? The infamous Ben Kane of Benardo’s Hideaway fame? The same Ben Kane who was mentioned in the Confidential piece along with our dear friend yesterday morning?”
    “Say his name like he’s a nationally recognized trademark again and I’m going to smush a sticky bun into your neat white blouse,” Mallory threatened.
    Layla’s answering smile made Reilly smile back.
    “Anyway, I thought we were here to discuss weddings—namely Layla and Sam’s—and bridesmaid dresses—namely mine and Mallory’s?”
    Layla sipped her coffee. “There’s always time for talk about Ben Kane.” She looked to Mallory. “What happened?”
    Mallory shrugged. “He came in yesterday.”
    Layla looked disappointed. “Is that all?”
    Both women looked at Reilly expectantly. “What do you want me to say? That his pastry chef quit? That he cleaned out my display case then ordered a whole bunch of other stuff? That I was wearing my granny underpants and the instant he saw them he ran full-out in the opposite direction?”
    Jack had returned to the table, stopped cold, then turned around again and started toward Johnnie Thunder, apparently craving some man speak.
    Mallory held up a hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. How did we get from cleaning out your display case to his seeing your enormous undies?”
    Reilly hated that her friend knew what kind of underwear she wore. “Never mind. It’s not going to happen again, so there’s no sense in even going there.”
    “Oh, please go there. If just so Mall and I can enjoy the trip,” Layla said.
    To her surprise, Reilly found herself sharing every last detail from the night before. From how Ben had shown up at her shop at midnight, fed her dinner—she conveniently left out the blindfold part because she still wasn’t sure how she felt about that herself—to how he’d gotten an eyeful of her underwear then beat a hasty retreat.
    “Oh, God,” Layla said, horrified. “I probably would have killed myself if that had happened to me.”
    Mallory grimaced. “No, you wouldn’t. Granny panties are not suicide material. After all, look what they landed Bridget Jones.”
    Reilly and Layla stared at her. “It got her heart broken by a womanizing loser,” Layla said.
    “Yes, but it was Hugh Grant. As far as losers go…” She seemed to realize what she was saying and made a face. “Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. The fact remains is that he wanted to see your underwear, period. And that you let him.”
    Reilly stared down into her black coffee.
    “And that he just called,” Mallory finished.
    Layla’s head snapped to. “Yes! What did he want?”
    Reilly shrugged. “To confirm today’s order.”
    “Liar,” Mallory accused.
    Reilly was secretly delighted that Ben had asked her out. Well, not too secretly because she caught her friends sharing a grin.
    “Is it safe to come back now?” Jack asked, hesitating near his stool. “I’ve had enough cyber lingo to last me at least the rest of the day.”
    Layla laughed. “Do so at your own peril.”
    He sat down again. “I know Ben Kane.”
    All three women stared at him.
    “What? I did a piece on him about a year ago. If you guys read my column, you’d know that.”
    Mallory raised her right hand. “I read every last one of