After six months of celibacy—and confining herself to the automative delights of Justin, her trusty vibrator—she’d come tumbling off the wagon with the one man guaranteed to screw up the friendship she’d spent most of the summer trying to repair.
Not that she hadn’t considered this last night. Fleetingly, and through a haze of hormones.... But now, suddenly, it didn’t feel nearly so defensible. Of course it wasn’t any of Marnie’s business who her brother slept with, especially now that Carter was a free man and no longer bound in matrimony to Marnie’s best friend—and she very much doubted that even if Marnie knew about what they’d spent the night doing together she would make a fuss. She was far too mature and pragmatic and, well, polite for that.
But sleeping with Marnie’s big brother again suddenly felt hopelessly tacky and immature.
It wasn’t exactly a great way to restore Marnie’s trust in her as a person and as a friend.... Nor would it do much for Marnie’s already rocky relationship with her brother. Which Gina knew had been set on its current course as a result of their first indiscretion ten years ago.
‘What’s the matter? Is it the panties?’ Carter asked, then reached for the hotel phone. ‘Don’t sweat it. I’ll order you a new pair.’
‘No, don’t, it’s not that, it’s...’ She blinked at the tattered lace now resting on her big toe. Her stomach began to feel tight and achy, the way it always had in the past when she’d gone too far. She put her hand up, to stop him dialling the concierge. ‘Marnie will be there, at the boutique.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ He didn’t look remotely surprised or concerned as he placed the handset back in its cradle. ‘You said the Awesomes. That’s what you guys used to call yourselves, right? You and Marnie and Reese and the mousy geek girl.’
‘Cassie’s not a geek, she’s just brilliant, and, considering she’s about to marry Sam “Tuck” Tucker, the football player, I’d say mousy is the new
hot.’
And they’d called themselves the Awesome Foursome, because their friendship had been Awesome. Awesome for her at least. Until that year in college, she’d never had any close female friendships—her mother had died when she was so young she didn’t remember her and she’d always seen the other girls at school as competition. But during her year at Hillbrook she’d come to realise how important female friendships could be. And then she’d gone and torpedoed it.
But she wanted it to be Awesome again. Truly awesome. And that meant regaining Marnie’s trust. But how could she do that, if Marnie found out about her and Carter?
‘The NFL quarterback?’ Carter gave a low whistle, sounding impressed. ‘Still waters, huh?’
‘Yes, precisely,’ she muttered, gathering her clothes to her breasts again, when Carter’s gaze dipped noticeably.
‘Damn, are you sure you’ve got to run off? How about I text Marnie, tell her you’re going to be late?’
‘No!’ she yelped, she actually yelped—as all the blood headed out of her brain and exploded into her heart. ‘You can’t do that.’
The crease on his brow became a furrow. ‘Why not? I’ve gotta arrange to meet her some time this week anyhow.’ The sexy smile returned as he reached for the hem of her dress, gave it a playful tug. ‘And it’d give me time to order you up some new panties. And help you wash your hair.’
She yanked the dress out of his fingers. Was he completely insane? ‘You’re not telling Marnie about this. About us. About last night,’ she clarified when he continued to look at her as if she’d just sprouted an extra head. ‘You can’t.’
‘Why can’t I?’
‘Because I don’t want her to know, obviously.’
‘Obviously. my butt. Why don’t you want her to know? It’s not like she doesn’t know I have sex,’ he added, apropos to absolutely nothing.
‘Yes, but she doesn’t know you’ve just had sex with me, does she?’
‘Not yet, she doesn’t.’ He grasped her hand, dragged her back towards the bed. ‘But I don’t plan to keep it a secret. Why would I?’
She tugged her hand free, cursing the heat shimmying up her spine. ‘Because Marnie doesn’t need to know.’
‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ he said, an annoyingly astute look crossing his face.
‘Please, as a favour to me, Carter,’ she said, trying her best puppy-dog pout. ‘Don’t tell Marnie about us. I said some pretty hideous things to her when this happened the first time. And I really don’t want to revisit that situation in any shape or form.’
He shrugged. ‘Okay, I guess it’s no skin off my—’
‘Pinkie swear,’ she begged, keen to get a commitment out of him. But when she demonstrated the technique by crossing her own pinkie over her heart and kissing the tip, his brows lowered ominously.
‘Don’t push it, Carrington. I don’t do pinkie swears.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s girlie and I’m a guy.’ His lips lifted into a sly grin. ‘You want me to prove it?’