“Oh, yeah. Just like that, baby,” I purred.

“You sound like you’re having intercourse.” June’s dry tone broke through my hot oil massage bliss. Lula, my masseuse and friend since junior high school, snorted. Lula was tall and willowy with flawless dark skin and a riot of thick hair. She was drop dead gorgeous, an exotic looking beauty who wore denim and plaid. She was also rolling in dough, having capitalized on the tourism boom that began a few years ago. She bought the withering old Victorian and—with a little help from me—had renovated it into a kitschy, cultured day spa.

Now, Bootleg Springs Spa was the place to rest, rejuvenate, and drop a crap ton of money.

Cassidy laughed through her hot springs seaweed facial. “I bet that’s the sound your neighbors have been hearing since you and Devlin started knockin’ boots,” she said.

“Devlin is my neighbor,” I pointed out. “He’s usually there making the noise with me.”

“I’ve heard about you two,” Lula teased. “Makin’ goo-goo eyes at each other in the diner. Booking two whole hours in the hot springs.”

“We used every second of those two hours,” I said smugly.

June, bored with our conversation, turned the page in her copy of The Economist that she brought from home. She was having her toes painted a pearly pink. Cassidy picked the color for her when June’s apathy on the subject became apparent.

“Tell me more about these magical multiple orgasms,” Cassidy sighed.

“Damn, girl,” Lula said, digging her strong hands into the knots in my shoulders. “That explains the rug burn back here.”

I giggled. I couldn’t help it. I felt good. The kind of good that meant everything in my life was going in the right direction. For the first time in a very long time, I didn’t have some kind of lingering doubt or anxiety about the future. Growing up, I never knew exactly who I’d be coming home to, the fun, happy mom and dad dancing in the kitchen and making mountain pies or the screaming, accusatory parents who fought and then sulked in silence for days.

But now, things felt settled. I had a great job, a sexy neighbor who kept me entertained, friends to have a spa day with, and four brothers who annoyed the shit out of me. Life was about as perfect as it could get.

“He’s great. The multiple orgasms are great. And I’m great,” I reported with satisfaction.

“I kind of hate you a little bit,” Cassidy sighed.

“What happened with you and Amos at The Lookout last time?” I asked her, knowing Bowie’s side of the story.

“I gave him one dance for old time’s sake, and he was annoying. Thankfully Bowie cut in on him, but he just came right back the next song, talking about missin’ me and ‘let’s give it another chance,’” she mocked in a deep baritone. “Thing is, I haven’t missed him not one lick since we broke up, and that says enough to me not to get back on that merry-go-round.”

“Then how did the fight start?” I asked. Lula’s thumbs found tense muscles in my lower back, and I yelped.

“Girl, you have got to stretch. I tell you this every time. You can’t just be on your feet for twelve hours a day and expect your muscles to keep up with you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Yoga. Pilates. Stretch. I get it. Back to the fight!”

“I don’t even know,” Cassidy hedged. She was totally lying. But that’s what she did to herself when it came to Bowie Bodine. “One minute Amos and I were dancin’, and I was like ‘thanks but no thanks.’ But he wouldn’t let go. He was insistent that I listen to him and give him another chance and blah blah blah. And it must have looked like he was hurting me from the table because Bowie and Jameson showed up and had some words.”

I snorted. “As if you couldn’t take care of yourself.” Cassidy was not only proficient in firearms, but her hands could be considered deadly weapons, too. When I was demanding ballet lessons and cheerleading skirts, Cassidy was earning a rainbow of belts in Tae Kwon Do. She got her black belt at eighteen.

“Right?” Cassidy said with an exasperated sigh. “Thank you!”

“So, Bowie and Jameson had words with Amos,” I prompted her.

“Yeah. Words were had, Amos said something stupid, and then Bowie just decks him.”

“Mmm-hmm.” I lifted my head and made eye contact with Lula. She rolled her dark brown eyes in understanding. The entire town knew that Bowie was gone over Cassidy except dear, sweet, stupid Cassidy.

“Anyway, you know how Bootleg is on a Friday.”

“Everyone’s ready for a fight.”

“Yep.”

“You know what I find interesting?” June interjected over her magazine.

“What?” I asked.

“That prisons are noting a significant upswing in the delivery of contraband via recreational drones.”

Cassidy laughed. “June Bug, when are you gonna start taking an interest in human relationships?”

June raised an eyebrow. “Not until absolutely necessary.”

Lula and I chuckled over that.

“Changing the subject,” Cassidy said. “What I find interesting is that I have never seen Scarlett Bodine so giddy.”

“I’m not giddy,” I argued. “I’m drunk on orgasms.”

“Giddy. After all the guys I’ve seen you date, in high school and since, I’ve never seen you light up like you do when Devlin walks in a room. Who knew your type would be a buttoned up politician? I mean, it’s almost comical.”

“I don’t discriminate against any kind of penis,” I argued. “No matter what the person attached to it does for a living.”

“Oh, no, I think it’s something more than straight up dick worship,” Cassidy decided. “I think you like him.”

“Well, of course I like him,” I said grumpily. “I wouldn’t sleep with him otherwise.”

“Wade Zirkel,” June said, flipping another page in her magazine.

“Shut up, Juney.”

She smirked. “You know, Scarlett. Perhaps the feelings you’re experiencing are what someone else would consider romantic love.”

My body went rigid.

“Whoa. From the way your ass cheeks just seized up, I’d guess that Juney just hit a nerve,” Lula pointed out.

I lifted my head like a sea lion heaving itself onto the ice. “Love? Are you kidding me?” I didn’t like that thought one bit. I was a Bodine, after all. Bodines a) weren’t capable of love and b) made a huge mess of long-term relationships.

“I know your mama made you promise to wait, but I think she’d be givin’ you an exception for Devlin McCallister,” Cassidy pointed out innocently.

“We haven’t talked relationships. We’re not even exclusive,” I scoffed. Though if Devlin McCallister thought it was okay to stick that fine dick in someone else, he was sorely mistaken.

I had no intention of ever getting married. Not that it was something I’d ever discussed with anyone. My promise to my mama was just my excuse. After seeing my parents’ marriage and all the drama and pain that entailed, I had no interest in ever chaining myself for all of my miserable eternity. So if somehow my heart had gotten confused and stumbled a little bit over Devlin, it was just going to have to unstumble itself right quick.

“We’re just having fun,” I insisted.

“So, you won’t be upset when he packs up and goes home?” Cassidy asked.

I hadn’t thought about it. Not really. I’d been too busy getting under his skin, into his head… and into his bed.

“I’m well aware of the fact that he’s only here temporarily.” My stomach lurched.

“Annapolis isn’t that far from here,” Cassidy pointed out.

“What? You think we’d sign on for a long-distance relationship?” It wasn’t the worst idea, but it sure as hell wasn’t as convenient as strolling next door to take my clothes off.

“Or you could move there.”

“And do what?” I asked, baffled.

“I believe my sister is suggesting that you could follow Devlin and be in a relationship,” June piped up.

“He’s a politician. Can you really see me being some politician’s girlfriend?” The room went silent as everyone present considered the idea. Cassidy started snickering, and then they were all in a full fit of laughter. Even June was smiling.

While I was glad they got my point, I’ll admit I was the teensiest sliver hurt by their agreement. I wasn’t a politician’s anything. I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut. I wouldn’t prance around in cocktail dresses and bat my lashes while the “menfolk” did the work. I knew it wasn’t fair for me to be pissed that they agreed with my own assessment, but sometimes you expect your friends’ opinions to be higher than your own. Their easy agreement checked a box that I’d been trying to avoid thinking about.

Why couldn’t I be a good partner for Devlin?

I’d never backed down from a challenge before, not when it was something I wanted. Maybe I just needed to figure out what it was that I wanted where Devlin was concerned?