Erin and Adam were the last to arrive. Kizzy noticed that Erin was wearing a baggy sweater (green, of course) over her jeans. She knew that hide-the-flab ploy from personal experience. Poor Erin. She was having the hardest time of all of them to keep on track with her diet. It seemed like every time she lost a couple of pounds something would happen either at work or with Adam and then she’d be back binging on the chips again. Judging from the outfit, this had been a binge week.
“This was such a good idea,” she said to Angela as they settled in. “After what Gregory put me through today I am so ready for a beer. But just one,” she added.
Next to her, Adam flashed a smile that should have been on a billboard somewhere. No doubt about it, the boy was one of the most gorgeous things God ever made. But Kizzy wasn’t convinced he was the man God made for Erin.
And she was even less convinced when, after dinner, he informed Erin they had to pass on coffee and some DDR at Lionel and Kizzy’s.
“Oh,” she said, sounding a little surprised.
“I’m afraid I’ve got to get back home and study,” he explained to the others.
It must not have been something he’d explained to Erin. She looked chagrined. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t know.”
“How about a rain check?” Adam said to Kizzy.
“Sure.”
He shot that Colgate smile at everyone and said, “Good to see you all. See you at the wedding?”
“Yeah, see you,” Brad replied in a tone of voice that said he’d as soon not.
Adam took Erin’s arm and, with one final flash of his pearly whites, steered her out of the restaurant.
“Is it just me or is that weird?” Megan said, watching them go.
Angela sighed. “I think it’s normal for Adam.”
“I mean, he just took over,” Megan continued in disgust. “And I understand about having to study, but once you’ve made a commitment to do something with people … I mean, it was like he could barely wait to get away.”
“In all fairness to Adam, we invited him for dinner and he came for dinner,” Kizzy said. “And medical school is hard. I’m sure he did have to study.”
“Law school’s no picnic, either, but nobody studies twenty-four /seven. He only had to come by the house for an hour,” Megan finished with a frown.
“The guy’s a dickhead,” Brad said. “Let’s forget about him and go have our coffee.”
The women got the message and dropped the subject. But back at the house, once they’d banished the men to the living room, they conferred in the kitchen under the guise of making coffee.
“Brad’s right, you know,” said Megan. “Adam is a dickhead.”
“Okay, so he ditched us, but he’s got some good qualities, I’m sure,” Kizzy said. What a lie! She wasn’t sure at all.
Megan shook her head. “The jury’s still out on that.”
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have stopped by Kizzy’s for a little bit,” Erin said as she and Adam walked into her house.
“Because a little bit would have turned into all night. And I wasn’t lying. I do have to hit the books later.” He caught her and pulled her to him. “But first I wanted some time alone with you. You know, you should have moved in with me in January. Then we could have been together more.”
“You’d have just been studying anyway,” she said, still feeling a little pouty over the way he’d swooped her off.
“I could always find time for you, babe,” he said. “Now, come on. Kiss me. I’m Irish.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “You are not.”
“I am for tonight,” he said, and kissed her.
Twenty-two
Angela returned from her trip to Italy with dreamy eyes and six extra pounds. “But it was worth every one,” she informed the Bikinis as they gathered around Kizzy’s kitchen island to sample each other’s diet appetizers. “Venice is amazing. Brad is amazing. Do you know he’d been saving for this trip for two years?”
“That is impressive,” said Kizzy.
“Going to Venice on your anniversary, that is too romantic,” said Megan with a sigh.
“It was romantic. And fun, too. Brad is still my best friend.”
“Friends with benefits. Sounds good to me,” quipped Megan.
Erin smiled right along with the others, but behind her smile she felt a question lurking. Was Adam her best friend?
Best friends told each other everything, and there were some things she still hadn’t told him. Like who paid for their flowers. And whose band was going to play for their wedding. She needed to tell him about the band, she decided, neatly sidestepping the issue of the flowers.
“We don’t need to hire a DJ. I’ve got it covered,” she told him as they settled in to watch a DVD on Saturday night.
“You do? You never told me. Who?”
“The local band I’ve hired to play at Slugfest. They offered to do our wedding as a thank-you.”
Adam looked genuinely pleased. “No way.”
She nodded. “Way.”
“Good job, babe.”
“Thanks,” she murmured as he pulled her to him for a kiss.
You didn’t tell him that the band belongs to Dan Rockwell, scolded her inner mother.
No, but what did it matter who played at the wedding as long as she and Adam were dancing happily together?
The Heart Lake Slugfest, named after the Northwest’s famous pest, was in full swing or, as Erin’s boss liked to say, full slime—Gregory considered himself a real wit. Her team had actually pulled it together, adding a rock-climbing wall and a bounce house for the kids and bringing together what Gregory had rhapsodized over as the best arts and crafts fair yet. In addition to Dan’s band, one of the girls on Erin’s team had found them another act, a rapper named B-Kool, who was serving as a warm-up for Dan’s band. Erin thought a better name for the guy should have been B-Bad, but he was drawing a crowd so she didn’t care. The street dance officially started at eight, but for the first hour it would be more like a street mill, while people patronized the food booths, talked, and listened to the music and parents twirled their kids in circles. Later in the evening, things would really get rocking.
Now she stood at the edge of the beer garden, smiling over a job well done. It seemed like all of Heart Lake and at least half of Seattle had turned out. And most of them were in the beer garden, which occupied one entire side of the Safeway parking lot, conveniently located so people could easily drink and join the street dancers. It was roped off by a low, white picket fence and decked out with little white twinkle lights and Chinese lanterns. People were enjoying themselves and it was getting rowdy. The revelers who got too rowdy would be escorted somewhere to dry out by one of the Heart Lake Police Department’s finest, many of whom were picking up some overtime patrolling the event.
Erin sighed. She wished Adam would have come and kept her company. But of course, he had to study. “You don’t need me there,” he’d told her. “You can do parties in your sleep, and I really have to hit the books this weekend.”
Of course, she’d understood.
“Looks like we’ve got a good crowd for our Slugfest debut,” said a voice at her elbow.
She turned and saw Dan Rockwell standing next to her, hands shoved in his jeans back pockets, surveying the crowd. With the jeans and his black, tight-fitting T-shirt and his slightly shaggy brown hair, he looked like a rocker, a sexy rocker. A couple of women walked past them and one of them looked Dan up and down in a way that invited him to look back.
“I see you’re already collecting fans,” Erin observed.
“What can I say? When you’re hot you’re hot.”
“You’d better be hot up on stage or they’ll throw empty beer bottles at you,” she teased.
“We will be.” Dan looked around her. “Where’s your man?”
“Studying.”
Dan nodded thoughtfully. “He does a lot of that.”
“It’s part of being a me
dical student. It will be different once he’s an intern.”
“Yeah, then you’ll really never see him.”
“I’ll see him,” Erin said. She looked at her watch. “Isn’t it about time for you to go on?”
“As a matter of fact, it is. Wish me lucks?”
“Break a leg,” she said, and turned her back on him.
It wasn’t as easy to turn her back on his music, especially the love songs. There was something about them that made her feel so … lonely. Of course you’re lonely, she told herself, Adam isn’t here with you.
“Great band,” Samantha told her when she stopped by the Brewsters’ beer garden booth to see how they were doing.
Kizzy and Lionel were there, buying beer and pretzels. “Light beer,” Kizzy was quick to explain.
“You may as well not drink beer at all if you’re going to swill that stuff,” Samantha sneered.
“It’s better than nothing,” Lionel said.
“This is great,” Kizzy said, surveying the makeshift fairground with its arts and crafts booths, big kid toys, and the dance and refreshment area. Below the Safeway in the Heart Lake Park, kids were enjoying pony rides, while couples rented swan-shaped pedal boats for a romantic interlude on the lake. The air smelled like cotton candy and elephant ears. “And it’s not even raining,” she added. “Did you phone in a special request to the weatherman?”
“I went a little higher up than him,” Erin said with a smile. She saw Angela and her family and waved at them.
Angela pointed Brad and the girls toward the pony rides, then came over to say hi. “This is great,” she congratulated Erin. “The girls are having a blast.”
“I think everyone is,” Erin said happily. And next year she’d top it.
Except next year she probably wouldn’t be here.
People party in New York, she reminded herself.
The band finished their first set, then stopped for a break, and the sound guys switched to preprogrammed music.
“Looks like the band’s going to take us up on our free drink offer,” said Samantha.
Even before she turned around, Erin knew she’d see Dan Rockwell. She’d gone years with never seeing him except at Christmas, and now every time she turned around there he was, getting under her skin like a giant tick.
“You guys are good,” Mike greeted him.
“Ready for that free beer?” added Samantha.
“I could go for a brew,” Dan said amiably. He smiled at Erin. “Great crowd.”
She looked around, pleased. The pony rides were just closing down and parents were starting to lead tired children off to their cars, bright balloons bobbing along in their wake. Tweenies and teens darted in and out of the crowd and the beer garden was packed.
“Now it starts getting really good,” Mike said with a grin. “The grown-ups will kick loose, drink a little more, dance a lot more.”
“And drink a little more,” Samantha added with a grin. “Kaching.”
“Remember, if someone’s had too much you’re cutting them off,” Erin reminded her.
Samantha looked offended. “Of course. We just want people to have fun. We don’t want anyone to get killed.” She shot a look at her husband. “And speaking of fun.”
He held up a hand. “I know, I know. Don’t worry. I’ll dance with you before the night is over.”
“Dancing,” Dan said, setting down his drink. “There’s a good idea. How about keeping the help happy?” he asked Erin, taking her hand.
Valentine’s Day all over again? She didn’t think so. “Oh, I don’t—”
Samantha cut her off. “Go ahead. Unwind a little.”
“I don’t think Adam—”
“Is going to care if you dance one dance with an old friend,” Dan finished for her. “Let’s take a vote. All in favor of the boss having fun for three minutes say aye.”
“Aye,” everyone chorused.
“It’s like Vegas,” Samantha added. “What happens at Slugfest stays at Slugfest.”
That was all the encouragement Dan needed. He towed Erin over to the middle of the street where the die-hard street dancers were now going at it to Wreckless Eric’s “Whole Wide World.”
“I shouldn’t be dancing with you. I’m engaged,” she said sternly as he put an arm around her and started them doing some kind of crazy swaying thing. She suddenly felt like a contestant on Dancing With the Stars. “I don’t know how to dance like this. What are you doing?”
“Having fun.”
“I’m glad someone is.”
He shook his head at her. “Just relax and let go. I’ll lead you.”
She didn’t want to relax and let go, and she didn’t want Dan to lead her anywhere. She was just about to say so when he pulled her against him and spun them in a circle. Zing.
Then he pushed her away from him and twirled her back under his arm, wedging her up against his chest. Zing, zing.
“Okay, how about this move?” he said, and spun her in a whole new way.
Several people clapped and somewhere in back of them a woman howled.
“All right, big finale,” Dan said. “Trust me.”
“What are you … ?” She didn’t have time to finish the sentence. In one smooth move, he flipped her completely over, making her feel like she was on some wild ride at the amusement park. The Dance-O-Tilt. Every endorphin in her brain stood up and cheered. So did the crowd they had now gathered.
The song came to an end and people applauded. “That was awesome,” a kid with a face full of piercings told Dan.
“Do you rent him out?” joked a middle-aged woman.
“He’s not for rent. He’s free,” Erin said. Okay, enough fun. It was time to go now, before she did any more zinging while she was on duty. “Thanks,” she said to Dan, and started to walk away.
“That’s all you’re good for? One dance?”
“Got to get back to work. I am on duty, you know.”
“Hey, I’m on duty, too, but that’s not going to stop me from having some fun,” he said.
“That woman is interested,” Erin told him, nodding to where the middle-aged woman stood with her friends. “Actually, it looks like you’ve got a lot of interested customers,” she added, taking in the group leer.
Dan made a face. “A little too old for me. I have standards, you know.”
“So do I. You’re lucky I lowered them for one dance.”
“Once a cheerleader always a cheerleader,” he taunted.
She almost retorted, “Once a dork, always a dork.” But somehow, she couldn’t get out the words. She told herself it was because that would be mean. “I need to go check in with the rest of my staff.”
“Come on. One more dance won’t hurt.”
The next dance is bound to be a slow one, warned her inner mother. That would not be a good idea.
“One dance,” he said softly, taking her arm and giving her little tug toward him.
Sure enough, her inner mother was right. It was a slow dance. But it was too late to leave now. She didn’t want to make a scene.
So she let Dan draw her to him and slide an arm around her. It was just a dance.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?” she asked.
“I took lessons once with an old girlfriend.”
The remark stirred up an odd mixture of curiosity and irritation in Erin.
He cocked his head and smiled. “Don’t look so shocked. Some women like dorks.”
Erin felt her cheeks warming. “I did call you that once, didn’t I?”
“Or twice.”
“Okay, I’m undorking you now. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” he murmured, and drew her closer.
It was almost scary how well their bodies fit together.
They may fit together, but they don’t belong together. You’re engaged, her inner mother scolded.
We’re just friends; she argued, and to prove it, she started making conversation. “So what happened to the
old girlfriend?”
“We broke up.”
Erin made a face. “I figured that much.”
He shrugged. “She was nice and it was good. But when you’re looking for the person you want to spend your life with, it has to be more than good. It has to be a perfect fit. Like with dance partners,” he added softly, and snuggled her up against him.
Her body went into melt mode. Of course you’re melting, she told herself, you love to dance.
“When the fit’s not right,” Dan continued, “it doesn’t matter how great the person is. It won’t work. You’ve both got to get each other, be able to move together, like one.” He demonstrated, twirling them. “You’ve got to have that connection. Here.” He tapped his chest and then hers, sending a jolt through her.
She tried to ignore it. “You’re never going to find the perfect woman, you know.”
He shook his head. “Now that was spoken like a chick.”
Erin frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know one of the differences between men and women, why men get paid more, for example?”
“Sexism?”
“Nope. Women settle. They never think to ask for more. They do that when it comes to men, too. It’s why you’ll see a woman with an ugly guy a lot more than you’ll see a man with an ugly woman.”
“That’s not a matter of settling. That’s just men being shallow,” Erin argued.
He shook his head. “Nope. That’s holding out for the best.”
“Okay, so what’s your idea of a perfect woman?”
“One who’s got some fire in her, and some ambition, someone who likes to have a good time—someone who’s strong and who can go through hard stuff and survive. Someone like you,” he added softly.
The look in his eyes was enough to give Erin’s inner mother a fit, but before she could protest he said, “Okay, no more talking. Close your eyes and feel the music. This is a perfect slow dance song.”
It was. A guitar softly strummed as Dierks Bentley urged her to come a little closer and let go.
Dan slipped a leg between hers and swayed them gently. Now they were entwined, bodies touching intimately, and the music poured over Erin, warm and sweet like honey. She could feel herself going limp. Her eyelids fell shut.
Bikini Season Page 22
