frowns, her gaze returning to mine. I think she’s confused. Welcome to the club. “Eleanor isn’t good at the flirting thing.”
We all know this. We love and protect Eleanor as much as we can. We encourage her and tell her she’s a strong, independent woman and she shouldn’t take any crap from any man no matter what. But she’s the friend in our group with the pure heart and trusting soul. She wants to believe that everyone is as wonderful and kind as she is.
This is why she gets burned. She doesn’t have a steel wall erected around her heart like the majority of us. Instead, her heart lies open and bleeds for anyone and everyone.
“Oh, we know she’s not good at it,” I say, and Sarah shoots me another meaningful look. One that says, get over there and help our friend. “I should probably go rescue her from Carter.”
“Yes, you should,” Sarah agrees.
“Want me to come with?” Caroline asks, appearing ready to leap into action.
My mind flashes with panic as I scramble to answer Caroline, but Sarah comes to my rescue. “I was hoping we could talk, Caroline. I took some photos of our new bridal lingerie collection and thought you’d want to see them.”
“Oh my God, yes! Show me!”
I walk away from them without another word.
Thank God for good friends who wield solid distraction tactics.
Fourteen
Carter
How the hell do I politely get out of this conversation?
Eleanor, while a perfectly nice woman with pretty eyes and an expressive face, is definitely not my type. She’s overly sweet. It almost seems fake. She also can’t stop touching me. Hey, I like being touched by an attractive woman, but this…doesn’t feel right. Something’s off. And she keeps sending me these weird, almost comically lustful looks that make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
What the hell is up with that?
She’s currently discussing her entire regular customer list with me right now, telling me the ins and outs of their personalities and how one older gentleman comes in every single week for a trim and tries to pinch her butt when he gets out of the chair.
“Sounds like a complete perv,” I say when she finishes, not knowing how else to respond.
Eleanor just laughs, leaning forward and resting her hand on my shoulder. “He’s not so bad. I don’t mind a pinch on the butt every once in a while.”
“From an elderly man?” I raise my brows. I find her attitude a little…
Strange.
“He’s harmless.” She waves a hand, like she deals with this sort of thing all the time.
“You actually believe that? Sounds like sexual harassment to me,” I say.
Eleanor’s eyes go wide and her cheeks are flushed red. “Wow, you think so? I never th—”
“Hey!” Stella magically appears.
Beautiful, gorgeous, sexy-as-hell-in-red-lace Stella. The relief that floods me at first sight of her is almost staggering.
“What are you guys talking about?” she asks, her expression bright and cheery as she looks from me to Eleanor.
“I’m telling Carter about old Mr. MacIntosh. You know, the one who always tries to pinch my butt after I give him a trim.” Eleanor laughs, slapping her knee. “He’s such a character!”
This is getting worse by the second. Is she drunk? Is she nervous? I don’t understand why she’s telling me these stories. Or why she thinks they’re so funny.
“Sounds—interesting.” Stella’s smile freezes in place. “You two are certainly chummy over here.”
Oh. Shit.
I do not want Stella to believe I’m interested in Eleanor. Thinking like that will get me nothing but trouble.
Trouble with a capital T. No, I take that back. Trouble in all caps, baby. Stella doesn’t want me messing with any of her friends. Again, there’s that girl code to consider. It exists. I know it does.
And I’m down with it. Not like I’m actually interested in Eleanor. She’s friendly enough, but…
She’s not Stella.
“Carter’s a total sweetheart, listening to me ramble on,” Eleanor says with a little hiccup.
Yep, she’s buzzed.
“I love that you two seem to have hit it off so well.” That same weird smile is still on Stella’s face, and it’s making me uneasy.
“I should go to the bathroom.” Eleanor rises to her feet, a little unsteadily, and Stella reaches out, stabilizing her friend. “I’ll be back.” She lifts her head and walks away, appearing rather dignified.
I’m impressed.
“You dog, flirting with one of my closest friends.” Stella collapses into the chair, her dark eyes blazing full of anger. “You have a lot of nerve.”
“Hey, she was flirting with me, if that’s