Every Last Secret - A.R. Torre Page 0,63

drunk. She pulled away, and I felt unsteady, too many factors suddenly added to this game.

“Anyway . . .” Cat dabbed at her bottom line of lashes and gestured to the vibrator. “I really love mine, and I thought you’d like one, too. You know.” She smirked. “For when Matt is out of town.”

“Oh.” I looked back down at it. “Thank you.”

She studied me for a minute, her beautiful features pinching. “Oh God. I weirded you out, didn’t I? I’m sorry.”

I stopped her. “You didn’t weird me out. Honestly. It’s a great gift. It’s just . . .” I shrugged, grateful for the change in subject. “Thank you.” For this trashy, cheap sex toy.

“Oh, it was nothing.” She pushed off the stool with a big smile. “Now, sit down and let me fix you a drink. We’ve got four hours of time to kill, and I’ve got the juiciest gossip about one of the security guards at the north gate.”

I glanced at the men and opened our junk drawer, slipping the vibrator in among the scissors, pens, and Scotch tape. Following her deeper into the kitchen, I watched as she opened up cabinets and got to work with our drinks. When she dropped the queen-bee act, there were times when she was almost likable.

She reached for a bottle of vodka, and I straightened.

“Oh, wait—I have something chilling for you.” Crouching down, I opened the wine cooler and pulled out the bottle of limoncello that I had purchased for her. I twisted the cap. “I already opened it—had to try a little last night to see what the fuss was all about.” She’d gone on and on at dinner one night about a limoncello vintage that was—in her words—to die for. Both Matt and William had expressed dislike over the lemon liqueur, which I’d never had.

“Wow! I can’t believe you found this.” She swooped forward, picking up the rare edition, which I had spent hours tracking down. I’d ended up ordering it from Italy, the shipping price more than triple what the bottle had cost. “Did you love it?”

“I have to side with Matt and William on this one. It was too sour for me. So—” I gestured to it. “Please, drink up. It’s all for you.”

“Thank you so much.” She beamed, then squeezed me in another hug, and I almost felt guilty for what I was doing. Almost.

Two hours later, the game paused for halftime, and we took the opportunity to sit outside. It was pleasant, looking over the lit pool, the twinkle lights on, our firepit crackling. Though he had done it slowly and complained about his ribs and arm the entire time, Matt had actually gotten off his butt and helped out. With the recent injury, he’d grown more needy, as if his good arm were as useless as his bad. Still, his injury had an upside—his inabilities had given me several opportunities to ask William to come over and fix things or lift heavy items. And while my husband had many shortcomings, ignorance was still one of his strengths.

I passed through the arched opening and spotted our husbands already by the firepit, glasses in hand, the ice drenched in something golden. “That better not be tequila,” I warned the pair as I slipped my arms around Matt.

“Let’s pretend it’s not.” Matt smiled at me, and I rose on my toes, gently planting a kiss on his lips.

I stole his glass and peered at him over the rim, playing the sexy, coy wife. “Let’s pretend I’m not going to steal it from you.” I tipped back his glass and was rewarded by a chuckle from William. A chuckle I ignored, turning my head to call out to Cat. “Need any help?”

From the kitchen, she scooped a slice of my blueberry pie onto a plate and hummed along with the Stanford fight song. “Nah. Just find out who’s eating.”

I glanced at William. “Are you going to eat any of my pie?” I kept my expression blank and innocent, devoid of the playfulness I’d given Matt.

He studied me, trying to understand if I heard the sexual innuendo in the words. “Sure,” he said finally. “I’ll have a piece.”

I would have preferred a comment about how much he loved my pie, but I still chalked it up as a step in the right direction.

A round of pie later, I was in the kitchen struggling with a bottle of champagne when William came in, two plates in hand, and gave me an