SLOW PLAY (7-Stud Club #4) - Christie Ridgway Page 0,49

wasn’t the time to ask her back to his place. As much as he wanted her in his bed, he was equally unsettled by the thought of her eventual return to Sawyer Beach. It was better to spend the night apart to ensure he didn’t become…over-fond.

Call him staid. Call him concerned about emotional safety. Neither meant stupid.

More than one person in Sawyer Beach proved impossible to resist, which was how Harper found herself sitting at a long table in the town’s former drugstore that had been converted to a popular food hall. While manning the Sunnybird Farm booth at the town farmers market that Sunday afternoon, she’d been ambushed by Sophie who insisted she join her and a group of women for dinner.

To be honest, Harper hadn’t put up much of a fight. Sitting around wondering if Mad would call or wondering if she should call him seemed like a lame move.

And being with other company proved a great idea, especially when that company came with cocktails and generous portions from the macaroni and cheese bar. The others seated beside her were delightful. There was Sophie, of course, and her friends—some who were Harper’s friends from the past as well—and then newer acquaintances.

“Tell us all about living in Sin City,” Sophie said now, leaning across the table. She’d opted for a giant margarita and then a second. “Do you know a ton of showgirls?”

Harper shook her head. “Boobs too big, legs too long. Why give myself a complex?” She was on mojito number three.

“It must be an exciting place to live though,” said Carol Ann, who’d been Harper’s partner in biology class. Now she was a pharmaceutical rep, which Harper found perplexing since the curly-headed brunette had always neglected to turn in her half of their lab write-ups.

“You were totally hung up on that pitcher for the baseball team,” Harper recalled, pointing at the other woman’s ski-slope nose. “Now I remember. You volunteered to be in charge of materials and methods every time and instead you only came up with excuses.”

Carol Ann sighed. “I was boy crazy for a while. You managed to avoid that.”

Not forever, though. And when she’d found herself drowning in her feelings for Mad, she’d sensibly taken herself to parts unknown.

“Do you gamble?” one of the other women asked. She owned the boutique in town—new to Harper, called Gifts for Girlfriends—and was to be married to John Boone, a lifetime pal of Mad’s. “You must know all the tricks and tips.”

“The only tip I know is not to gamble unless you want to lose.”

“Words to live by,” Sophie said, and lifted her glass for a toast.

The entire table clinked rims. Some beer spilled into the communal vat of truffle mac ‘n’ cheese, somewhat depleted yet not completely gone. They all gasped in dismay.

“I’ll get more,” Harper volunteered. She almost tripped over her own chair upon rising, but then managed to avoid its four legs and everyone else’s on her way to the pasta food stall. Halfway there, her gaze snagged on the back of a man—dark hair, wide shoulders, good butt. With the seriousness of the partially inebriated, she rocked back on one heel and allowed herself some moments to admire.

Then the attractive man shifted and she could see his profile—also very nice—and she recognized that the handsome guy was none other than Maddox Kelly.

Damn. She hadn’t considered they’d run into each other here. She’d counted on not running into him in fact, but once again she’d been sucked into his orbit. Or he’d been sucked into hers.

They had a mutual orbit.

Sighing, she wondered whether to fight her fate or resign herself to it. Did she go to him or try to escape somehow unseen?

Across the hall, a person waved to get Harper’s attention. She narrowed her eyes, then realized it was her favorite teacher, Mrs. Gill. Warmth rushed through Harper and she smiled, waving back with vigorous energy. Happy for the diversion, she twined around the tables, her gaze on her former mentor.

There were new silver threads in her hair, but the older woman still wore a bright berry-colored lipstick and delivered a great hug. “Sit down,” she said. “Tell me everything.”

“That might take a while,” Harper warned, but then they were exchanging life highlights. Mrs. Gill had three grandchildren and a plan to retire in another couple of years. Harper said that the farm was doing well and her family too.

Under the older woman’s fond gaze and persistent questions, she went on to share