Laughing, I leaned back into the sofa. “It’s good to take a break for a while. Puts things in perspective.”
“You barely made it a week,” he scoffed.
“Ten days, actually. Ten horrible, hellacious, horrendous days.” I took another drink.
“Right? Sucks. Bad.”
“I wouldn’t want to go through it again, but I’m glad we were able to take sex out of the equation for a little bit. Made us focus on talking things out and enjoying just hanging out. When we finally let loose, it was …” I licked my lips. “Explosive.”
“You’re making me hard.”
I snorted. “What doesn’t?”
He shot me an arch glance. “I will not be ashamed of my healthy sex drive.”
“Just be proud of yourself for taking some time to figure out where you’re going. I’m proud of you.”
“Aww, thanks, Mom.” He leaned his head on my knee. “You know … I could be lying to you.”
“Nope. If you were fucking around, you’d want me to know about it, because then I’d kick your ass, which is part of the fun.” Not. But it was a way he used me to punish himself.
“What’s going to be fun is Ibiza.”
“Ibiza?” It took me a second to put it together. “For my bachelorette party?”
“Yep.”
Spain. Half a world away. I hadn’t been expecting that. “How long is this party supposed to last?”
Cary flashed his million-dollar smile. “The weekend.”
“Not that he gets a say, but Gideon’s not going to like it.”
“I smoothed him out. He’s antsy about security, but he’s going to be busy himself, in Brazil.”
I sat up. “Brazil?”
“You’re like a parrot tonight, repeating everything.”
I loved Brazil. Loved the music, the weather, the passion of the people. There was a sensuality to the culture of Brazil that was unmatched in the world.
And thinking of Gideon there, with that pack of hot, rich men he called friends, celebrating the last days of a bachelorhood he’d already given up …
My best friend twisted to face me. “I know that look. You’re getting twitchy just thinking about him surrounded by Brazilian bikinis and the hot-blooded women wearing them.”
“Shut up, Cary.”
“He’s got the right crew to hit it hard, too. Especially that Manuel character. He’s a major player.”
I remembered watching Manuel Alcoa make a conquest when we’d all gone out together to a karaoke bar. Like Arnoldo, Gideon, and Arash, Manuel didn’t even have to try. He just had to pick from the wide selection of women throwing themselves at him.
What would my husband do when his friends paired off with beautiful babes? Sit by himself and nurse a caipirinha? I didn’t think so.
Gideon wouldn’t cheat. He wouldn’t even flirt; it wasn’t his style. He hadn’t even flirted with me in the beginning and I was the love of his life. No, he would dominate the room, looking dark and dangerous and untouchable, while an endless tide of gorgeous women frothed around him.
How could he possibly be unaffected by that?
Cary laughed. “You look ready to murder someone.”