men do, big and hard and tight and over as quick as it had begun. “This is good news,” he whispered fiercely, glancing at Emily with a look that spoke volumes.
Relief flooded her.
Frank winked. “Good news indeed.”
Chapter Eleven
By Tuesday, it was common knowledge that the recently and tragically widowed Emily Davenport was pregnant. Crystal Lake, being like any other typical small American town, had a demographic of down-home folks who’d grown up with each other in a place settled generations before by their ancestors. Knowing everyone’s business was like breathing air.
Some folks took in that information and let it marinate. They might have brought it up at the dinner table while passing the basket of buns or reaching for the mashed potatoes. But generally, they’d talk about it and let it go, content in the knowledge that, while somewhat scandalous, Emily Davenport’s pregnancy didn’t affect their day-to-day lives.
But there were others, like Darlene Phibbs or Trudy Styles, who lived for the sort of gossip they could twist and turn into something sordid. They took pleasure in spreading stories, not because they had firsthand knowledge and wanted to right some wrong assumptions, but because they enjoyed being the center of attention—even if that attention was focused on them because of the gossip they spewed and nothing else.
Case in point.
Tuesday night was a busy one at the Coach House. Not only was it half-price fajitas and nachos, but after nine o’clock, karaoke was king. It was a night when money and laughter and alcohol flowed (and not in that particular order) and by eight Georgianna, had already made nearly two hundred dollars in tips. She’d just dropped off menus at a rowdy table of guys who’d come in to celebrate their beer league hockey game win, when she grabbed a plate of nachos from the busboy Gus and carried them over to her booth in the back. It was occupied by none other than Connor Jenkins and a man he introduced as Ryland Banks. Apparently, the man had been born in Crystal Lake, but he was someone she wasn’t familiar with.
He was, however, very attractive in a dark, dangerous kind of way, though the newcomer wasn’t very talkative. In fact, he seemed annoyed whenever Georgianna approached their table. She set down the nachos with a smile for Connor (screw his friend) and took exactly one step back when she heard Trudy Styles speak. The woman’s voice was unmistakable on account of the fact it was high and nasally and she was obviously projecting because she wanted people to hear her. She sat in the next booth with three women, all of them locals, though older than Georgie.
“So you guys know how I told you Miss Prom Queen was pregnant? I’ve got more tea.”
“Tea?” one of them asked.
“Yeah. Tea. As in the scoop.”
“I don’t understand,” the woman replied.
“Tea means gossip.” Trudy made a sound of disgust. “It doesn’t matter. Get this. The father is Ethan Caldwell.”
Georgianna’s face burned at the glee in Trudy’s voice.
“Didn’t he go a little crazy after Rick’s accident?” one of them asked.
“Like a bat. A hot, dark, and twisted bat,” another piped in. “God, he’s handsome.”
“He’s like, well, he was Rick’s best friend.” If anything, Trudy’s voice got louder.
“I don’t believe you,” the first woman said.
“It’s true,” Trudy insisted.
“Well, if it is,” one of the other woman said, “I think it’s awful. I mean, what kind of woman would have sex with her dead husband’s best friend?”
“The kind who would sleep with anyone’s husband. I heard she was keeping company with Boone Avery a while back. Maybe folks have got it wrong. Maybe it’s his kid.” The venom in Trudy’s voice was hard enough to slice through glass.
Trudy glanced up just then. Her eyes collided with Georgianna’s gaze and a slow, predatory smile spread across her face. “Why don’t we ask Georgie Caldwell? Did you brother knock up Emily or what?”
Georgianna waited a couple of heartbeats before answering the woman. She had to. The anger that burned inside her and heated her blood was so strong, she had to resist the urge to grab the full jug of beer from Connor Jenkins’s table and toss the entire thing over the blonde’s head.
She took the last few steps needed to bring her abreast of the table and took her time eyeing up the other ladies before stopping at Trudy.
“Do you know what I find interesting about you, Trudy?” Georgie asked lightly, smiling down at the woman with the biggest fake-ass