own. Might be a touch easier.”
“That’s also acceptable,” June said.
“Y’all, just sit with who you want so you can discuss the book,” George said. He glanced up, meeting June’s eyes, and his face broke into a wide smile. She beamed back at him.
The noise level rose again as the ladies all gathered purses, tote bags, and paper plates piled with food, and moved their chairs into smaller circles. I walked over to Shelby, who gave me a quick hug hello. We tucked in with a group that included Cassidy, Scarlett, EmmaLeigh—who also eyed me like she knew a secret—and Dixie Miller, a white-haired woman with clear blue eyes and a lap full of her knitting.
It occurred to me as I watched all the ladies settle in that there was a distinct lack of Misty Lynn Prosser in this room. Of course, it was a book club. That sounded like Misty Lynn repellent to me.
Nadine paused by our circle, met Cassidy’s eyes, and gave her a little smile. Then she dragged her chair to another group nearby. Looking around, it seemed like none of the ladies with grown daughters in attendance were sitting with them. Maybe they were just trying to sit with people they didn’t see as often—a nod to June’s attempt at randomization.
“Well, y’all, I don’t even know where to begin with this one,” Scarlett said. “It was even better than the last book. Do y’all agree?”
Heads bobbed with enthusiastic nods.
“I was particularly interested in the shenanigans on the couch,” Scarlett continued. “Did y’all find that difficult to picture, or was it just me?”
“I actually found the description quite helpful,” Cassidy said. “And by god, once you get it right, it’s worth it.”
“Is it?” Shelby asked, leaning forward. “I wasn’t sure, but maybe we should give it a go.”
“Are you kidding?” Cassidy asked. “Jonah was basically made for that sort of thing. Trust me. Try it.”
“Ladies, that wasn’t even my favorite part,” EmmaLeigh said. “I was all aflutter at the end when he met her out on that balcony. There were all those people down below, but they just…”
A chorus of oohs and ahhs went around the circle.
“For me, it’s not so much about the way the scenes play out,” Cassidy said. “Because let’s be honest, a lot of it is more than any of us would really indulge in.”
Heads nodded in agreement.
“But there’s a freedom in it,” she continued. “I think that’s what I’m enjoying the most.”
I leaned down, reaching into my bag to dig out my Kindle.
“You know what I really appreciate,” Dixie said, glancing up from her knitting. “I feel like I’ve been able to connect with Clyde in ways we haven’t in years.”
“That’s so beautiful,” EmmaLeigh said.
“It is,” Dixie said, her expression going wistful. “Here I thought my lady parts had all but dried up. They just needed a little spark to wake ’em up again.”
“Good for you,” Cassidy said.
“Get it, girl,” Scarlett said with a grin.
“You’re never too old to rev up your engine,” Dixie said, pointing around the circle with one of her knitting needles. “Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” Scarlett said, leaning back in her chair. “I plan on having orgasms until the day I die.”
“Use it or lose it,” Dixie said. “Although take it from me, if you lose it, you can still bring her back to life. Clyde and I ain’t what we used to be, but some old-fashioned horizontal refreshment is still plum good. Even at our age.”
I blinked a few times, still bent over with my arm in my bottomless bag. What on earth were they talking about? I sat up and leaned closer to Shelby.
“I thought this was a book club,” I whispered.
“It is,” she whispered back.
“Then why does it sound like Dixie Miller is talking about sex?”
“Because she is,” Shelby said, as if that was what all seventy-plus-year-old women talked about at book clubs.
“Why?”
“Haven’t you read the book?” she asked.
“Just the beginning. Everyone said I should come anyway, but I’m lost.”
“Oh,” Shelby said, like it all made sense to her now. “Skip to chapter six.”
I dug around in my bag again until I found my Kindle, then swiped through the pages to chapter six. The rest of the women continued their conversation—EmmaLeigh started in on a list of ten ways to get in a quickie when you’re pressed for time—and I started reading.
My eyes slid across the page, a scene that began with the two main characters chatting over dinner in a fancy restaurant. Their conversation quickly