ago, before he went to California and spent the week with his college friend, Spike, before she found out that Spike was female.
A scatter of polite applause welcomed the singer.
Skye was pretty sure those clapping did not realize what they were about to hear. Looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to her, Skye tore the corners off her paper napkin, and stuffed them into her ears.
Forty minutes later Skye squirmed and checked her watch. The makeshift earplugs weren’t working. It seemed as if the soprano had been singing for hours. She glanced around; the rest of the guests looked as bored as she felt.
Scooting down, Skye rested her head on the back of the sofa, closed her eyes, and allowed her thoughts to drift. She wondered what all the men were doing while their women were spending Thanksgiving weekend at the spa. Her father, Jed, would be the worst off. He didn’t cook, and had only a nodding acquaintance with most household appliances. Owen, Trixie’s husband, knew how to use a microwave, but the dishwasher was beyond his comprehension.
Frannie’s dad Xavier, Bunny’s son Simon, and Skye’s brother Vince would most likely consider this a break and take advantage of their womenfolk being gone. Skye winced; she hoped her brother wouldn’t take
too
much advantage of Loretta’s absence.
Which left Skye’s recent significant other, chief of police Walter Boyd. Wally hadn’t been happy to hear Skye would be occupied for the four-day vacation. Clearly, he’d been hoping to take their relationship to the next level during their days off, and maybe it was time.
Skye and Wally had a long, emotionally charged history. Although they hadn’t started dating until recently, there had been chemistry between them since she was a teenager and he was a rookie cop. Nothing had happened when she was underage, or even when she returned to Scumble River as an adult, because by then he was married, and when his wife left him, Skye had been involved with Simon.
Finally, at the end of September, both Skye and Wally were free and over twenty-one. Their dates had gone well, and the sexual attraction was an eleven on a ten-point scale, but Skye had been determined to take things slowly. Now,maybe it was time to let nature take its course. It was getting harder and harder to end their evenings with a good-night kiss.
Too bad Skye had already promised to help Margot. Still, Wally was picking her up Thursday around noon. Skye’s plan was that they’d go for Thanksgiving dinner at her aunt’s, spend a couple of hours socializing with the family, then go back to his house for dessert—a dessert she’d been denying them both for too long. Wally was in for a pleasant surprise.
Skye’s lips turned up slightly in a Mona Lisa smile, which quickly melted away when she noticed a commotion at the door. Barb, the girl who had been working behind the reception desk, stood on the parlor threshold, gesturing wildly to Margot.
The spa owner frowned and shook her head, but the clerk insisted. With an apologetic murmur, Margot stood and edged out of the room. Skye followed, both out of curiosity and as a way to escape having to listen to one more aria.
Margot and Barb were moving quickly, but Skye kept them in sight. She almost gave herself away when Margot abruptly stopped a few steps before the lobby’s entrance. Just in time, Skye ducked behind a large sculpture. She peered around the carving, blinked, and looked again.
What was Elvis Doozier doing with Amber? To begin with, he was at least five years younger than the girl; second, she had at least thirty IQ points on him; and last, Amber appeared to like expensive trinkets, while Elvis’s idea of haute couture was the blue-light special at Kmart.
When Skye peeked again, Barb had continued on into the lobby, but Margot, Amber, and Elvis were standing in a tight triangle, and the two women were arguing. What were they saying? Skye edged closer, carefully keeping in
A scatter of polite applause welcomed the singer.
Skye was pretty sure those clapping did not realize what they were about to hear. Looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to her, Skye tore the corners off her paper napkin, and stuffed them into her ears.
Forty minutes later Skye squirmed and checked her watch. The makeshift earplugs weren’t working. It seemed as if the soprano had been singing for hours. She glanced around; the rest of the guests looked as bored as she felt.
Scooting down, Skye rested her head on the back of the sofa, closed her eyes, and allowed her thoughts to drift. She wondered what all the men were doing while their women were spending Thanksgiving weekend at the spa. Her father, Jed, would be the worst off. He didn’t cook, and had only a nodding acquaintance with most household appliances. Owen, Trixie’s husband, knew how to use a microwave, but the dishwasher was beyond his comprehension.
Frannie’s dad Xavier, Bunny’s son Simon, and Skye’s brother Vince would most likely consider this a break and take advantage of their womenfolk being gone. Skye winced; she hoped her brother wouldn’t take
too
much advantage of Loretta’s absence.
Which left Skye’s recent significant other, chief of police Walter Boyd. Wally hadn’t been happy to hear Skye would be occupied for the four-day vacation. Clearly, he’d been hoping to take their relationship to the next level during their days off, and maybe it was time.
Skye and Wally had a long, emotionally charged history. Although they hadn’t started dating until recently, there had been chemistry between them since she was a teenager and he was a rookie cop. Nothing had happened when she was underage, or even when she returned to Scumble River as an adult, because by then he was married, and when his wife left him, Skye had been involved with Simon.
Finally, at the end of September, both Skye and Wally were free and over twenty-one. Their dates had gone well, and the sexual attraction was an eleven on a ten-point scale, but Skye had been determined to take things slowly. Now,maybe it was time to let nature take its course. It was getting harder and harder to end their evenings with a good-night kiss.
Too bad Skye had already promised to help Margot. Still, Wally was picking her up Thursday around noon. Skye’s plan was that they’d go for Thanksgiving dinner at her aunt’s, spend a couple of hours socializing with the family, then go back to his house for dessert—a dessert she’d been denying them both for too long. Wally was in for a pleasant surprise.
Skye’s lips turned up slightly in a Mona Lisa smile, which quickly melted away when she noticed a commotion at the door. Barb, the girl who had been working behind the reception desk, stood on the parlor threshold, gesturing wildly to Margot.
The spa owner frowned and shook her head, but the clerk insisted. With an apologetic murmur, Margot stood and edged out of the room. Skye followed, both out of curiosity and as a way to escape having to listen to one more aria.
Margot and Barb were moving quickly, but Skye kept them in sight. She almost gave herself away when Margot abruptly stopped a few steps before the lobby’s entrance. Just in time, Skye ducked behind a large sculpture. She peered around the carving, blinked, and looked again.
What was Elvis Doozier doing with Amber? To begin with, he was at least five years younger than the girl; second, she had at least thirty IQ points on him; and last, Amber appeared to like expensive trinkets, while Elvis’s idea of haute couture was the blue-light special at Kmart.
When Skye peeked again, Barb had continued on into the lobby, but Margot, Amber, and Elvis were standing in a tight triangle, and the two women were arguing. What were they saying? Skye edged closer, carefully keeping in
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