Wild Girl (Wild Men Texas #3) - Melissa Belle Page 0,16

in surprise.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

She whips her head over to me, and that girlish enthusiasm returns to her expression. “Oh, yes, I’m very okay. In fact, Logan and I are going to have a big pre-wedding party at Brick’s Barbecue the night before our wedding here. My mom and I think it will be so quaint.”

“I don’t think Brick’s is quaint,” I say, not able to keep my mouth shut.

Ginny freezes next to me.

After it pops out of my mouth, I worry Logan will tell me off, so I’m surprised when he starts to laugh. Dave and Blake laugh, too, and Gigi glares at all of them.

“It is too quaint!” she says. “What would you call it, Macey?”

“I’d call it country. Yeah, it’s a little old-fashioned, a little redneck. But it’s not something you can point at from a distance and judge, Gigi.”

Logan stops laughing, and his eyes blaze into mine intently.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Gigi says. “I don’t judge Darcy. And neither does my mom. She was here a few years ago, and…”

Logan kicks his tackle box so hard the sound reverberates off the water.

And Gigi shuts up.

I look between her and Logan.

What the hell is going on?

Beside me, Skip’s attention is piqued. He sits up straighter and stares at Logan.

Gigi clears her throat. She almost looks like she’s trembling.

“Anyway, I have nothing against Darcy. I think it’s…”

“Quaint,” I repeat. “I know. You’ve said it a bunch of times. But it’s where we live. It’s not a dollhouse or the place of the month. It’s home.”

Gigi looks to Logan for help, but he’s watching me. His gaze is smoldering, and I can practically feel Skip’s mind churning.

I turn away awkwardly and comment on the starry sky. Ginny agrees it’s beautiful, and the moment passes.

Chapter Eleven

While Skip helps himself to pie, I take off my shoes and socks and walk down to the water.

“Eeewww, your poor feet are so close to all that mud,” says Gigi’s sister, Miranda. “Do you do that for the pores?”

“Huh?”

“Like at the spas? A mud bath.”

“Not exactly.”

I leave the water and walk over to the cooler to get a beer, but Miranda and Corey follow me.

I glance from one concerned-looking sister to the other as I pop open a beer.

Miranda lowers her voice. “Gigi told us why you don’t want to get married. Again,” she adds with raised eyebrows.

I tilt my head, and Corey leans in conspiratorially. “She said you and your mother are unnaturally obsessed with Jane Austen and that your dream since you were a little girl was to be just like Jane when you grew up.”

O-ka-ay.

“Being a famous novelist would leave you no time for domestic things like taking care of a home and kids. So marriage was out for you.”

“Ri-ight. I guess.” I tilt my head back and empty about half a bottle of Lone Star down my throat.

“And you wanted to try marriage out the way most people try on a prom dress. Just for a night, right? With sex, of course.” Miranda laughs. “Marriage would suck without sex. But so would a prom. I mean, what’s the point?”

I drop my bottle and watch the rest of the beer pour out onto the grass.

“Is Logan good in bed?” Corey whispers to me. “I mean, I always had a cowboy fantasy, and Logan’s forearms sure are muscular. Not to mention the way he fills out those jeans. Did he—you know—satisfy you? Because Gigi’s waiting until marriage to find out.”

She’s what??!

I jerk my head toward Logan and Gigi by the water.

They aren’t having sex? So that means Logan hasn’t had sex since Vegas—with me.

I suck in my breath. “A lady never tells.” I grab a fresh beer from the cooler. “Excuse me.”

Not knowing what else to do, I decide I might as well get my interview over with. I motion to Skip to follow me over to the lone picnic table up on the bank.

“Okay,” I say once we sit down, and he’s still staring down at the creek. His gaze is trained on Gigi’s ass. “Eyes back in your head.”

Skip drags his gaze back to me. “Do you think all New York City girls look like that family?”

“I would imagine not. But who knows?”

I take a few sips of my beer. Okay, more like several really big gulps. Now the bottle’s half-empty. Skip watches me as he matches my gulps with one small one.

“Boy, that was amazing pie, Macey. You made it?”

When I nod, he sighs. “The