Summer Days (Fool's Gold #7)(37)

“Yes, but it was—” Heidi slapped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to mention the kiss. She dropped her arm to her side. “It’s not what you think.”

“Was there tongue?” Charlie asked.

Prepared now, Heidi pressed her lips together and didn’t speak.

“That’s a yes,” Annabelle said with a sigh. “I miss tongue. Or any kind of kissing. I miss sex and men and orgasms.” She sighed again. “I’m sorry. What was the question?”

“Tongue is exactly what I think,” Charlie said.

Jo brought their burgers. When she left, Heidi grabbed a fry from her plate.

“No, it was an accident. Or meaningless, or both. He has a matchmaker. Who does that? I don’t know why he can’t get his own girl. The man is rich and good-looking. And when he rides Mason… Oh!” She turned to Charlie. “Did you know your horse knows how to rope a steer? Well, the horse part of it. He’s not the one throwing the rope.”

Charlie picked up her burger. “Seeing as I bought Mason, yes, I knew. So Rafe is sexy on a horse?”

“More than should be legal. With those shoulders and in that hat?”

“Oh, no. You have it bad.” Annabelle stared at her. “I thought you were going to sleep with him to keep him from getting the ranch. Not fall for him.”

Heidi took a bite of her burger and chewed. She swallowed, then flicked her fingers at both of them. “I’m not falling for him. He’s not my type. He’s a townie. I know better.”

“Townie?” Charlie mouthed. “I can figure that out in context, but it’s not like you’re still in the carnival. You live in a town. You’re a townie now.”

“Not in my heart.” Heidi drank more of her margarita.

The tequila went down smoothly. If her brain was a little fuzzy, that was a good thing. Soon she wouldn’t have to think about Rafe on a date. With some San Francisco-based bimbo.

“Stupid man,” she muttered. “Who does he think he is, looking that good on a horse? It’s not like I started the kissing, either. He kissed me.”

“Was it amazing?” Annabelle asked wistfully.

“Yes. But it’s not like he wanted to have sex with me.”

“Not that you’re bitter,” Charlie murmured.

“I’m not. Stupid man.”

“You said that already,” Annabelle told her.

Heidi gulped the rest of her margarita and signaled for another.

“You really don’t want that,” Charlie told her. “You’re plenty drunk as it is.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Heidi announced.

“It’s too late,” Annabelle said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“You’re going to be hating life, come morning.”

Maybe Charlie was right, but at this moment, Heidi didn’t care.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“BUT I NEED MY CAR,” HEIDI said, leaning against the door in Charlie’s truck. “Not that I would have driven, but we could have towed it. Or herded it. Like the cows.” She giggled at the image of herds of cars following faithfully behind. “They should make a commercial.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie asked.

“Nothin’. My cheeks are numb.”

“You’ll be throwing up soon enough.”

“Na-ah.” Heidi liked the way the sounds felt in her mouth and made them again, then laughed. Her amusement ended in a snort that had her covering her mouth. “That wasn’t me.”

“That is so the least of what you’re going to be doing tonight,” Charlie told her, as she pulled around the ranch house and stopped by the front porch. “When next we see each other, I’m going to say, ‘I told you so,’ and I don’t care how pitiful you look. You’re going to be living in a world of regret.”

“Already there,” Heidi said, fumbling with her suddenly complicated seat belt. There were many regrets, most of them fuzzy. A few of the more clear ones were about Rafe and his date.

“I hate her.”

“Who?” Charlie asked.

“I don’t know yet. But her.”

“Okay, then.”

Charlie climbed out and came around the truck. As she reached for the door, Heidi saw someone on the porch. The shape moved toward them and she recognized Rafe.

“You shouldn’t be back,” Heidi said as Charlie opened the door. “You should be out with her.”

“Oh, Lord,” Charlie muttered. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

“What happened?” Rafe asked.

He was tall. With big man-shoulders. Heidi remembered how he’d looked in that towel—all wet and sexy. She would like to see him naked again. She hadn’t seen a penis in a long time, and she had a feeling his would be especially nice.

“Too many margaritas,” Charlie said, unfastening the seat belt. “Heidi’s not much of a drinker. She’s going to have a difficult night. Come on, kid. There’s going to be a big step.”

“I’ll get her,” Rafe said, stepping closer.

Charlie moved back, giving him room. Heidi found herself at eye level with Rafe.

“This is your fault,” she told him.