“All right, then,” he said.
They dressed in silence and left the small cabin. Her feet were bare—the Louboutins tossed into the garbage once and for all—and her dress that had once been cute and swingy was now saggy and a sad shade of muddy gray. She had no idea where her panties were, either, but was too embarrassed to admit that to Colt.
He borrowed a Jeep from the school and she climbed in. “Where to?”
“My salon,” she said, and ran her fingers through her tangled hair again. “While I would love to go and give my smirky little sister a piece of my mind, I can’t really go back to my parents’ house looking like this.”
He grunted. “You’re an adult.”
“It’s not them I’m worried about.” She thought for a moment, then paused.
“What?”
Beth Ann glanced over at him, then bit her lip. “It’s just that…if it got back to Allan, he’d be worried, and then he’d swing by the house to make sure I’m okay, and I just don’t feel like the hassle.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. “All right then.”
They rode back to town, awkwardly silent. Beth Ann was almost disappointed to see the bright, cheery pink sign of California Dreamin’. Her wild little weekend was over. No more mud, no more hiking.
No more Colt.
Just Lucy, who wouldn’t feel guilty in the slightest that her big sister got stuck in the woods all weekend. Just her parents, who would shake their heads, puzzled at her need for independence at the age of twenty-seven. Just Allan, who would come by on an almost-daily basis to give her sad puppy-dog eyes and hope that enough guilt would make her go back to him.
She sighed as he pulled into the space in front of the salon. “Thanks again for the ride,” she said. “I’ll see you around town?”
He gave a crisp nod.
She opened her door and began to slide out.
His hand caught hers and she looked back at him, hopeful.
“Keys,” he said.
“Keys?”
“To your car. I’ll bring it by when it’s towed with the others.”
Oh. “Of course,” she said hastily and dug into her ruined little purse. Her keys were muddy, too, and she tugged the Volkswagen key off of the key ring. “Here you go.”
Colt nodded at her, and she thought she caught a glimpse of dimple. And then she shut the car door, and he pulled out.
And he was gone. Good-bye weekend, hello reality.
She sighed, unlocked the door to her salon, and stepped inside. Her answering machine light was flickering—no surprise. She ignored it and went to the big mirror in front of the barber chair. Sure enough, she looked like a wreck. She set to work—once her hair was detangled, she pulled it into a braid and curled her bangs. Her nails had little rings of dirt under them, so she fixed that and repainted both fingers and toes, and then moisturized her feet because they’d had a rough weekend. She flipped through the magazines she kept stacked in the salon, even though she’d read them all before. When she could stall no longer, she headed to the back storage room where she kept her air mattress and a few changes of clothes. She switched out, tossing her dress into the garbage—it was ruined. Then she changed clothes, put on a pair of disposable flip-flops, and called her parents’ house, hating that she had to do so.
Lucy picked up.
“It’s me,” Beth Ann said. “Come and pick me up at the salon.”
EIGHT
Lucy had been all apologies, and was still apologizing when she dropped by the salon to pick up Beth Ann a few minutes later. “Mom and Dad totally grounded me. I can’t see Colossus anymore,” Lucy said with a frown, her blue-streaked braids swinging as she shook her head. “It’s such bullshit.”
“That’s too bad,” Beth Ann murmured, lost in thought. Her brain was still focused on that morning, waking Colt up with her mouth. She’d loved that electric moment when he’d wrapped his hand in her hair and she’d realized he was conscious and could feel everything she was doing. That had been so…delicious.
“So where you been all weekend?” Lucy asked, giving Beth Ann a narrow-eyed stare. “You get evacuated, too? I tried calling your cell but you didn’t answer. I thought you were pissed at me.”
“I was mad. I’m still mad,” Beth Ann said lightly, and pulled out her waterlogged phone. “And you owe me a new iPhone.”
Lucy looked over and sighed. “Were you at the motel, too? They made us sleep girls with girls. So lame.”
“No,” Beth Ann said, and then paused. “I had one of the volunteers drive me to the salon so I could cool off.”
A total lie, but she didn’t want to tell Lucy that she’d spent the weekend with Colt. That was a little too personal.
“Huh,” Lucy said. “I could have sworn I left with the last batch of volunteers. I stuck around to see if you were going to make it out, you know. I wouldn’t leave you behind. I didn’t realize you’d deliberately wanted to be left behind.”
Lucy looked over and gave her sister an obvious wink.
Ha. “Nothing like that. I left a little after the last group,” Beth Ann said.
“Sure you did.”
Beth Ann gritted her teeth. “I left a little after the last group, honey,” she repeated. “And if you don’t want me telling Mom and Dad that they were handing out alcohol and condoms at the gate, I think we should just end this conversation right now.”
“Ending conversation,” Lucy said with an impish grin made all the more roguish by her nose ring. “We won’t talk about anyone’s hookups.”
“Do not mention hookups, Lucinda Janelle Williamson,” Beth Ann hissed. “If this gets back to Allan—”
“I know, I know,” Lucy said, turning the car up the long, winding drive to their parents’ house. “Then his crazy ass will start stalking you again. Don’t worry. The last person I’d tell about your hookup is that jerk. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks, Luce.”
Lucy examined her fingernails. “Don’t suppose you’d hook a sister up with a mani?”
She had a feeling there’d be a lot of free manicures in Lucy’s future, just to keep her mouth shut. “You know I can.”