After a couple of rounds of drinks, somebody came up with the idea of crashing the bachelorette party. Jeremy was out of options and decided it couldn’t hurt. Besides, he’d get to see Annie.
A mere two days ago that prospect would have sent him into a panic of indecision. His confidence in that department had grown exponentially. Instead of being worried about his reception, he looked forward to being with her.
Luckily they’d invited Chief Bob Anglethorpe to the bachelor party, so he led the way in his squad car with the dome lights flashing. Because they’d all been drinking, they drove slower than a funeral procession so nobody would get hurt. Jeremy took Bruce and Ambrose in his Samurai.
‘‘I can’t understand what happened to the belly dancer,’’ Jeremy said as they followed Bob’s cruiser up First Street and turned right at Fourth, headed for Sean and Maggie’s house.
‘‘Well, it’s the thought that counts.’’ Bruce sat beside Jeremy in the passenger seat, his face alternating red and blue as the cruiser lights flashed through the windshield. Bruce was a big guy who made the Samurai seem crowded. ‘‘This could turn out better, anyway. I’ve always wondered what bachelorette parties are like.’’
‘‘Thanks for not being pissed.’’ Jeremy had always appreciated Bruce’s even temper. He’d need it with Melody, who’d had a chip on her shoulder all her life. Jeremy understood that. It couldn’t have been easy being less attractive, less brainy, less everything compared to Annie.
‘‘Where was the belly dancer coming from?’’ Ambrose asked from the backseat.
‘‘Evansville,’’ Jeremy said. ‘‘I asked Bob to check and there weren’t any accidents along that stretch tonight. It’s not like she could get lost on Highway 64, either. You can’t miss the exit sign for Big Knob.’’
Ambrose made a funny little sound.
‘‘You okay back there?’’ Jeremy asked.
Ambrose cleared his throat. ‘‘I’m fine. Thought I saw a skunk on the road, but either I didn’t or you missed it.’’
‘‘I would hate to hit a skunk, for a lot of reasons,’’ Jeremy said. ‘‘After Sean saved a family of them living under his rental house last fall, I’ve become a real fan of skunks. I went out with him once to see the spot he fixed for them in the Whispering Forest. Pretty cool.’’
‘‘You wouldn’t catch me in the Whispering Forest,’’ Bruce said. ‘‘That place is haunted.’’
‘‘I don’t know if it is or not,’’ Jeremy said. ‘‘What do you think, Ambrose? Don’t you and Dorcas have picnics out there?’’
‘‘I don’t think it’s haunted,’’ Ambrose said.
‘‘Try going out there at night,’’ Bruce said. ‘‘You’ll change your tune. Back in school a bunch of us went out there, thinking we were big brave football dudes. First we smelled smoke, and then we saw these red eyes, and this spooky voice said, ‘Go away.’ If we could’ve run that fast on the field, we would’ve been state champs.’’
Jeremy laughed. ‘‘I remember you telling me about that. I still think it was Stanley, the geek nobody liked, getting his kicks by scaring the pee out of you.’’
‘‘Stanley. God, I’d forgotten all about old Stanley,’’ Bruce said. ‘‘Didn’t I hear he ended up in Silicon Valley and was making a fortune?’’
‘‘Something like that,’’ Jeremy said.
‘‘You could’ve done that, man. You have the smarts.’’
‘‘Yeah, but I hate traffic.’’ Jeremy grinned at him. ‘‘Anyway, I didn’t feel the need to leave town. I was the geek everybody liked.’’
The procession turned down the lane leading to Sean and Maggie’s, but they had to park a distance away because the circular drive was already full of cars. The old Victorian blazed with lights.
Bruce turned to Jeremy. ‘‘Did we bring beer? We can’t barge in on their party if we didn’t bring anything. ’’
‘‘Jeff loaded us up.’’ Jeremy climbed out of the car. Good thing Jeff Brady, owner of the Big Knobian, had given them a discount. ‘‘I have to say, this is beginning to feel like a military operation.’’
Bob walked back toward them. ‘‘How do you want to play this?’’ Bob was middle-aged and married, with a slight paunch and a bald spot. But tonight he looked like a frat boy at a panty raid. ‘‘I doubt they know we’re here,’’ he said with barely disguised glee.
Jeremy glanced at the line of cars and trucks pulling in behind him. Sean’s old pickup was directly behind them, and after that about a dozen other cars had rolled in. The line extended out to the main road.
Jeremy glanced at Bob. ‘‘You don’t think they saw your bubblegum machine twirling around on top of your car?’’
‘‘I turned it off before we were in sight of the house.’’
‘‘Then let’s ask Sean.’’ Jeremy sauntered back to Sean’s truck. ‘‘It’s your house, buddy. How do you want to do this? Just go up to the front door and knock like normal people?’’
‘‘Hell, no. That’s no fun. Let’s sneak up on the porch and see what they’re up to before we announce our presence.’’
‘‘There’s about thirty of us,’’ Jeremy said. ‘‘You think thirty guys can do a decent sneak?’’
Bruce came up beside Jeremy. ‘‘I can sneak with the best of them. I say let’s do it that way.’’
‘‘The bridegroom has spoken.’’ Jeremy liked the way the evening was turning out. Getting drunk and watching a belly dancer hadn’t appealed to him, but he’d thought that was the expected drill, so he’d arranged for it. ‘‘Sean, will you pass the word down the line that we’re orchestrating a major sneak?’’
‘‘You bet.’’ Sean looked eager to begin. ‘‘Who’s the point man for this operation?’’
‘‘I am,’’ Jeremy said. He didn’t even stop to think about it. Yet he’d never taken command of much in his life, other than the Internet café and the kayak adventure last night. Or the interlude up in his apartment this afternoon. Obviously Annie was inspiring him.
A couple of minutes later, Jeremy gave a soft whistle and motioned the guys forward. He and Bruce took the lead, with Ambrose and Sean following close behind. Bob fell in with Jeff to help carry the beer.
It was a reasonably quiet procession. Once in a while a bottle in one of the cases of beer would clank, or a muffled laugh would break the stillness. But all in all, it was a most excellent sneak.
Once they reached the front porch steps, Jeremy could hear music with a Latin beat.
‘‘Maybe they’re dancing,’’ Bruce murmured.
‘‘Let’s see.’’ Jeremy climbed the steps carefully so they wouldn’t squeak, but with the music inside the house, he didn’t think anyone could hear them, anyway. Edging along the porch, he peered in the first of two living room windows. What he saw made his blood run hot.
Only one person was dancing, and that was Annie. The other women formed a circle around her as they clapped and whistled their encouragement. Annie’s natural coordination made her a good dancer, but more than coordination was going on. Annie was gyrating and undulating in a combination of sexy moves that left Jeremy with his tongue hanging out. Who needed a belly dancer?
‘‘You have one hot mama, there, my friend,’’ Bruce said, his tone worshipful.
She’s not mine. But Jeremy didn’t say that. For now he’d pretend that the woman dancing so sensuously inside the circle—the woman every man in this posse wanted except maybe Bruce, Ambrose, and Sean— that woman was Jeremy’s girl. Reality would hit soon enough.
The dance ended, and some bozo hanging on the porch railing lost his grip and hollered like a banshee as he fell into the flower bed. Maggie peered out the window and shrieked, and it was all over. The door swung open and chaos erupted.
A couple of minutes passed before Jeremy worked his way over to Annie. Her cheeks were pink and her skin moist from her dance, which made her even sexier. He wondered if now that the bachelor party had combined with the bachelorette party, they could both be excused
for the night.
‘‘What are you guys doing here?’’ She didn’t look upset about it, though. She looked happy, in fact.
‘‘I hired a belly dancer from Evansville, but she didn’t show.’’ He surveyed her outfit, a flowered dress that didn’t quite reach her knees. Being near her again made him grin like an idiot. ‘‘I should’ve asked you to dance, instead.’’
Her cheeks grew even pinker. ‘‘We were playing truth or dare, and I picked dare, which turned out to be dirty dancing.’’
‘‘I liked it.’’
She met his gaze. ‘‘Do you dance?’’ she asked softly.
‘‘I . . .’’ He came close to admitting the truth, that he was lousy at it.
As he tried to figure out how to answer the question without lying, Ambrose showed up to save him.
‘‘Have you seen Dorcas?’’ Ambrose asked.
Annie glanced around. ‘‘About fifteen minutes ago she went out back to check on Isabel. Maybe they’re still out there.’’
‘‘Thanks.’’ Ambrose took off.
‘‘Hey, Jeremy!’’ Bruce called from across the room. ‘‘The girls say if we’re staying we have to play truth or dare. I took a poll and the guys are fine with it.’’
‘‘All right.’’ Jeremy wanted to stick around, so if they had to play silly games, so be it.
‘‘We decided you should be the first victim,’’ Bruce added.
‘‘Me?’’ Jeremy had hoped to use the distraction of the game to slip outside with Annie. ‘‘You should go first. You’re the groom.’’
‘‘Exactly, which is why we picked you, my best man, to do the job for me, bro.’’
Jeremy sent a pleading glance in Annie’s direction, but she shrugged as if to say she couldn’t save him.
‘‘So what’ll it be?’’ Bruce hoisted the beer bottle in his beefy hand. ‘‘Truth or dare?’’
Neither. But he didn’t have that choice. Two days ago he could have picked truth with no problem. He’d been a man of no secrets. Now his life was riddled with them. But choosing dare was almost as scary. No telling what a crowd of liquored-up friends would think of.
He took a deep breath. ‘‘Dare.’’
Bruce nodded. ‘‘Okay, men. Huddle.’’ As the guys formed a tight circle, snorts of laughter punctuated the muted discussion.
‘‘You should see your face,’’ Annie said. ‘‘Want a blindfold and a cigarette?’’
Jeremy glanced at her and remembered that she’d put herself on the line only minutes ago. He wouldn’t come off as much of a hero if he couldn’t handle a party game without passing out from fright. He squared his shoulders and gave her what he hoped was a nonchalant smile.
She smiled back. ‘‘That’s better. Anybody who can keep his head when kayaks are flipping over should be able to conquer truth or dare.’’
‘‘I don’t mind playing the game,’’ he said. ‘‘But I was hoping you and I could step outside for some air.’’
Her smile faded. ‘‘About that. I’ve been thinking that maybe we shouldn’t—’’
‘‘We’ve decided!’’ Bruce took a sip of his beer while the rest of the guys, minus Ambrose, who was still outside, grinned at Jeremy as if they could hardly wait to find out how he’d deal with their challenge.
‘‘Lay it on me.’’ But he was no longer concerned about the game. Annie had been about to say something that he definitely didn’t want to hear. Was she going to let what happened today scare her off for the rest of the weekend? What a depressing thought.
Bruce cleared his throat. ‘‘We dare you to dance with Annie to the same tune she danced to a few minutes ago. We want to see some dirty dancing from you, bro.’’
Panic rose in his chest. He wasn’t much of a dancer. Correction, he was not a dancer at all. The few times he’d been forced to dance, like at his sister’s wedding, he’d managed with a hold-the-girl-and-shuffle maneuver that had gotten him through.
Annie stepped closer to him. ‘‘You can do this.’’
‘‘I don’t think so.’’
She gazed into his eyes. ‘‘I know you can.’’
‘‘But—’’
‘‘We’re starting the music,’’ Maggie announced. ‘‘Ready?’’
Annie glanced over at her. ‘‘Bring it on!’’ Then she leaned closer to Jeremy. ‘‘Watch my eyes and think sex.’’ As the music began, she began to undulate in time to it.
With her hips moving like that, he didn’t know how he was supposed to watch her eyes. He stood frozen in place, mesmerized by the magic of her body.
Magic. Would that help? Ambrose hadn’t said a thing about dancing, and yet . . . there had been music that night. He was almost sure of it. And some dancing.
‘‘Go for it, bro!’’ Bruce yelled out. ‘‘Shake your booty!’’
‘‘Look into my eyes,’’ Annie said as she shimmied closer. ‘‘And think sex.’’
Jeremy dragged his attention from Annie’s gyrating breasts and hips so he could gaze into her eyes. Slowly he began to move in time to the beat. ‘‘Abracadabra,’’ he muttered under his breath.
The result amazed him. All at once he began rotating his hips in sync with hers. When she leaned back and wiggled her shoulders, he leaned forward and wiggled his. He had no idea how he was doing that, but he wasn’t going to question it. Somehow, through some process he didn’t understand, he was dirty dancing.
As an added bonus, he was making points with Annie. He could tell by the way she smiled and the heat built in her eyes. He could tell by the trembling of her body as he slid his against her. His dancing was turning her on. If he’d realized how effective this could be with women, he would have taken lessons years ago.
Although most of his concentration centered on her, he was vaguely aware of all the whistles and catcalls coming his way. No one had expected him to pull this off, but by God, he was doing it. Score one for Jeremy, the guy who’d always been clueless on the dance floor.
When the music ended, he wrapped his arms around Annie as the room erupted in clapping and cheers.
She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with obvious lust. ‘‘Wow. You’re something.’’
‘‘So are you.’’ He was hot and aroused. ‘‘What were you about to say before the dance started?’’
She moistened her lips. ‘‘Never mind.’’
He had little time to savor the meaning of that before the guys surrounded them, clapping him on the back and carrying on about his studly performance. Somehow he and Annie got separated and someone shoved a cold beer in his hand. He drank the beer and accepted all the good-natured kidding, but all he really wanted was to get back to Annie.
Then, before he realized she was there, she linked her arm through his and stood on tiptoe to murmur in his ear. ‘‘Still want to get some air?’’
His heart, which had begun to slow after the exertion of the dance, picked up the pace. ‘‘You bet.’’
‘‘Let me get my purse. I’ll meet you in the front entryway.’’
He leaned down and put his mouth close to her ear. ‘‘Do you think we can leave?’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Then why bother with your purse?’’
Her laugh sounded breathless. ‘‘I want to show you the prize I won for pin-the-penis-on-the-man.’’
Chapter 14
Dorcas walked quickly in the direction of the Whispering Forest. She’d promised Ambrose she’d keep track of Isadora, and now the wily witch had given her the slip. Dorcas should have realized Isadora was getting bored and might search out better entertainment. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out where she’d gone.
Maggie and Sean’s house was about a ten-minute walk from the dragon’s favorite clearing. Dorcas followed a narrow trail, stumbling across tree roots and banging her head on overhanging branches. Just her luck—she was out here without her light globe, but at least the moon shining through the trees allowed her to see the biggest obstacles.
Her work with the smallpox plague was as famous in the wizard world as it was here in Big Knob. True, she’d been a reluctant nurse, but she’d stuck it out and saved the town from potential annihilation. Underneath her brash exterior was a sympathetic heart, which had prompted her to come back and help with Dee-Dee.
As Dorcas drew closer to the clearing, she heard Isadora’s boisterous laughter float through the trees. Then George shouted, ‘‘Righteous!’’ followed by a chattering sound that had to be the raccoons.
‘‘I’m all in,’’ Isadora announced.
So they were playing poker. Dorcas had known about these nightly games for months, but she and Ambrose had never caught them at it and George was very closemouthed about the proceedings. If nothing else, she’d finally have her curiosity satisfied as to how they worked the monetary angle.
Like every dragon, George had a chest full of gold pieces in his cave under the granite spire of Big Knob. Most dragons had no reason to spend the money, but most dragons didn’t strike up a friendship with poker-playing raccoons, either. Dorcas suspected the raccoons of trying to swindle George out of his fortune.
Isadora had to have brought cash with her when she flew here from San Francisco, so she’d have no trouble buying in to the game. But what about the raccoons? They had no source of income, yet they’d been playing constantly ever since Dorcas arrived in town, and probably for years prior to that.
Led onward by the sound of the game in progress, Dorcas arrived at the edge of the dirt road that was the only vehicular access into the forest from the main road. Across the way was George’s favorite clearing, illuminated tonight by a battered kerosene lamp hanging from a tree branch.
George, Isadora and four raccoons were gathered around a large, flat-topped tree trunk. All the players perched on makeshift stools made from sections of another hefty tree trunk. George required three chunks roped together.
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