“But is it too much to ask for a little wooing?” Lydia couldn’t help complaining. “I mean, maybe I’m not going to get him to write poetry for me, but could he pick me flowers, or tell me I’m pretty or anything.” She gave a windy sigh and slumped forward over her knees. “I sound like a whiny teenager.”

“It will work out,” Laura promised. “He’s your mate, and you’re perfect for each other.”

He’s perfect, Lydia’s swan agreed serenely.

Lydia drew in a deep breath, turning her fold into a deliberate stretch. “You’re right,” she agreed. “I just have to have faith that we’ll get where we’re going, and I won’t strangle him on the way there. I’m too old for silly girl dreams, anyway.”

“I wouldn’t give up on those dreams just yet,” Laura said with a knowing smile. “He might surprise you!”

“Speaking of surprise,” Lydia said, glad of another subject to distract herself with. “When is Jenny leaving? I’d like to see if I can get her flight numbers so I can coordinate Ally’s flights.”

“The charter comes in mid morning,” Laura said, rising as Lydia did. “She’s packing now, I think.”

“I’ll go catch her now,” Lydia said, then stopped. “Or maybe just a little later.” She knew unerringly that Wrench was also at The Den right now, and she wanted nothing less than to run into him and let everyone witness their ridiculous awkwardness. “After breakfast.”

Chapter 15

Wrench stripped out of his suit with distaste. He always felt ridiculous dressed up. There was no point putting a diamond collar on a junkyard dog.

Someone had snuck into his room, much as they had Lydia’s, and tidied the place. The champagne was in a vessel of meltwater, and the condom rosette made Wrench scowl. Rose petals bruised underneath his feet, making the room smell too sweet.

The Shifting Sands staff uniform felt considerably more comfortable, and Wrench stomped down to the kitchen to find breakfast and advice.

Jenny and Travis were kissing in front of the fridge, which did not improve Wrench’s mood.

They broke apart when he cleared his throat, and laughingly gave him passage to the food.

Tex was pouring himself coffee, and Bastian and Saina were sitting together on the couch. Saina was reading a wedding magazine and Bastian was sorting his first aid kit on the coffee table.

Wrench took a plate of fancy egg pie and a thick slice of bacon, and went to the little island, altogether too aware of the amused and curious looks he was receiving.

“Does he look satisfied?” Jenny asked Travis in a stage aside. “I can’t tell.”

“Who could? He doesn’t do anything but glower.”

“Lydia never signaled us to come dump him in the pool, so presumably he didn’t blow it,” Tex added, leaning against the counter.

“I’m right here,” Wrench growled. “And I have ears.”

“No expressions, though,” Jenny teased.

“I asked her to marry me,” Wrench confessed.

From the couch, Saina actually applauded, and the rest of the staff gave a chorus of congratulations until Travis thought to ask, “What did she say?”

“She… didn’t seem real happy about it.”

There was a moment of silence, then Bastian demanded, “What did you do?”

“I told her, we had to, I guess, and she… wasn’t really pleased.”

The men in the room all groaned.

“Did you say that?” Jenny asked in disbelief. “‘I guess,’ and ‘We have to?’”

“Sweet daisies,” Tex said, shaking his head.

“I think that’s worse than my proposal,” Bastian said in a stage whisper to Saina.


Tags: Zoe Chant Shifting Sands Resort Fantasy