“Glitter Girl to Fast Break and Paintball, do you copy?”
Trip smiled at Grace’s voice and scribbled faster to finish the billing statement she was filling out. This guy was going to pay a hefty emergency fee for calling her out on a late Sunday afternoon just because he wanted to go fishing with his pals tomorrow morning instead of waiting for her to come out then. She was about to stick it to him, when she reconsidered. He could have gone fishing and waited until Tuesday to call, leaving his horse to suffer two more days. She relented and marked down her usual fee. She knew he wasn’t one of the county’s super wealthy and had been looking forward to this rare outing. Her client peered past where she sat in the truck to the CB radio snugged under the truck’s dash.
“Didn’t know anyone still used those things,” he said.
Trip totaled the bill on her cell phone’s calculator app. “They still come in handy occasionally. Cell service can be sketchy in some remote areas.”
Several clicks sounded from the speaker, then “Come in, guys.” Grace was getting impatient.
Trip handed over the bill, and the client handed over his credit card. She used her phone to swipe the card and finish their transaction.
“Paintball here.” Trip turned down the volume on Clay’s response.
“Here you go,” she said, handing back the credit card. “Soak that hoof twice a day for the next five days, but don’t stop the antibiotic until it’s all gone. It should be fine, but call me if you think I need to look at it again.”
“Sure thing, Doc.”
Trip upped the CB volume again as she drove back onto the highway.
“Where are you?” Grace asked.
“On a pickup near the county line, about thirty minutes outside town,” Clay said. “Are you okay?”
Trip grabbed her mic and cut in. “Fast Break, I copy. What’s up?”
“Any chance you guys could meet me at Mosquito Alley for a powwow?”
“Paintball ETA about five thirty,” Clay said.
“Fast Break same.”
“Thanks, guys. This could take a while. I’ll bring food. You bring drinks. Glitter Girl out.”
Trip chewed her lip. She was so preoccupied with the sudden appearance of Jamie, that she’d forgotten other things were afoot. This was a good idea to check in. Or was it? She wasn’t sure she wanted to confess about Jamie, not even with her two very best friends. Having a chance, well, trying to get a second chance with Jamie felt very fragile. Like the tiniest misstep could turn it all wrong again. So, maybe she’d just see what was up with Grace and keep the Jamie thing quiet for now. Yeah. Quiet. Oh, but find out if Clay was making any progress with River.
* * *
Trip carried her flip-flops and towel in one hand and Playmate cooler in the other as she padded barefoot down the sandy path between the highway and their special spot by the Altamaha. Clay was already sitting by the river’s edge, propped against a cooler and sipping a beer. Nostalgic flashes of the three of them splashing in the river, drinking their first alcohol here, and sharing secrets instantly peeled away the adult in Trip. She dropped the cooler and barreled down the path, yelling a battle cry and flinging her towel and shoes at Clay as she shot past. A thick, knotted rope dangled from a huge oak limb that stretched out over the water, and Trip launched smoothly from the small beach to grab the rope and swing out as far as possible before dropping into the water.
She came up sputtering just as Clay cannonballed into the water next to her. They laughed, splashed each other, and wrestled to dunk each other until they both were gasping for air and coughing swallowed river water. Damn, this felt good. They grinned at each other and chorused “Dude” in a mutual greeting.
“So, what’s up?” Trip swam closer to shore in a lazy paddle until she found footing on the sandy bottom.
“Don’t know.” Clay followed until they stopped in chest-deep water. “Grace called this meeting.”
“Hey, where are you guys?”
“Speaking of Grace.” Trip turned and cupped her hands to yell back. “Cooling off. Bring your mosquito spray.”
“I could use a hand with the food,” Grace called back.
Again, they spoke as one. “Food.” Their base brains ran on the same wavelength, even though Trip’s higher thinking was all science and Clay’s was deeply artistic.
Trip sprang toward the bank. “Last one—” Her words turned to a gurgle as Clay pushed her face-first into the water to gain advantage and spring ahead.
“Dibs on the drumsticks,” Clay shouted as she sprinted up the path.
Trip scrambled to catch up. “You always were a leg woman.”
“Did somebody mention food?” Clay, her shorts and tank top dripping, grabbed Grace in a big wet hug. “Where’s your swimsuit, woman?”
Before Grace could answer, Trip hugged her from the back, effectively soaking her from both sides. “The water is just right.”
“Who needs to swim when I have you guys?”
In an unspoken and time-honored ritual, Clay grabbed Grace’s cooler while Trip carried the picnic basket. Grace could kick butt with the best of them, but her flair was a bit more feminine and always triggered Clay’s and Trip’s innate butch chivalry.
At the water’s edge, Trip set the basket down and signaled Clay with a conspiratorial smile.
Grace was having none of it. “Don’t even think about it, Trip Beaumont. If you throw me in that water, neither of you will get anything to eat.”
Trip shrugged, nudged Grace closer to the water, and then darted around her side and jumped in, splashing just enough to cool Grace’s legs. Trip pointed at Clay, who held her ground next to the food. “Chicken.”
“Exactly,” Clay said, pointing to the picnic basket.
“You’re just afraid Grace will get out the handcuffs. No, wait. From what Shayla says, you like that kind of thing.”
“You made that up.” Clay helped Grace spread the picnic blanket, then plowed into the river to resume their earlier water war. After a few minutes, the clink of beer bottles brought them up short.
“Cold one?” Grace didn’t have to ask twice.
“Okay, hand over my money.” Trip held out her hand to Clay.
“What did you two bet on this time?” Grace asked.
Clay riffled through her dry clothes until she found her wallet and handed a ten-dollar bill to Trip. “How long you’d wait to talk. I said thirty minutes, and Trip guessed fifteen. So, what’s up, Gracie?”
Trip searched for somewhere to tuck the bill. Her dry clothes were up the hill, in her truck. Finally, she tucked it into her wet sports bra. It would dry later.
“Aren’t you hungry? I brought all your favorites. Chicken wings, ribs, cracklings, and potato salad.”
Trip cocked her head at Grace’s oddly evasive tone. “Now you’re stalling. We know where the food is. What’s going on with you and how can we help?”
Grace took a deep breath. “Dani Wingate.”
Trip looked at Clay, who hesitated before fishing another ten from her wallet and handing it over.
“Seriously, guys?” Grace frowned at them.
“I’m a sucker for a sure bet,” Trip said. “Besides, Jolene at the diner is telling everybody the two of you’ve already slept together.”
“What?” Grace glared at her. “I hope you set her right.”
Trip shook her head. “She could know something I don’t.”
“She is your type,” Clay said, taking another swig of beer.
“And what exactly is my type?”
Clay looked at Trip for help.
“I’ll let you hatch that egg, pal. You laid it.” Trip bit into a chicken wing to indicate she wasn’t going to attempt an answer.
Clay shrugged. “You know, like…us.” She wagged a finger between herself and Trip. “Handsome, butch, sporty…did I mention handsome?”
Trip swallowed her mouthful of food. Okay. Maybe she’d help Clay a little. “In other words, if we weren’t like sisters, we’d probably be trying to date you.”
“There’s a significant difference between you guys and Dani. She doesn’t even want to be around me.”
“What makes you think that?” Trip asked.
“She barely speaks to me unless she has to, tenses if I try to touch her, and goes to Savannah at least twice a week, probably to hook up.”
Trip frowned. “You mean when I send her to the airport to ship or pick up semen?” She tossed her chicken bone into the woods for natural recycling. This was breeding season, and frozen semen was big business in the horse world. She’d been sending Dani to Savannah to keep her from feeling isolated in Pine Cone. Trip glanced at Clay, but Clay was studying Grace who stared out at the river as she sipped her wine. Trip, too, turned her gaze on Grace. Holy crap. Was Grace—?
Grace seemed to flinch under their gaze. “No, no, no. I’m not falling for her. Really.”
“Then why can’t you look at us?” Trip asked.
“And why is your left eyebrow doing that little quirky arch like it does when you’re not being entirely honest.” Clay waved a rib in front of her face like a magic wand. “You looked pretty cozy in the alley the other day.”
“Yeah. Wait. What alley?” Whoa. Clay had been palming an ace.
“She said nothing was going on, but it looked pretty cozy to me,” Clay said.
“You’re imagining things,” Grace said.
“I don’t think so,” Trip said. She’d get the details on this alley thing from Clay later. “Did I imagine seeing Dani drag you into my office yesterday?”
Grace was insistent. “I’m not falling for her, and I probably won’t. It’s like she’s afraid of connecting, I mean really connecting.”
Trip shifted uneasily. She was sure this was a career issue for Dani, not a Grace issue. If she and Clay helped Grace nail Dani, this could go two ways. Grace could be the anchor to keep Dani in Pine Cone. On the other hand, Dani might leave anyway and break Grace’s heart. Trip stood and walked around Clay to sit on the other side of Grace. The two knights now flanked the princess they were sworn to protect. “What do you want, Grace?” Trip waited while Grace scanned the river for an answer.
“I can’t stop thinking about her,” she said at last.
Clay nodded, her eyes dreamy and fixed on the flow of the water, as though the river had also spoken the same answer to her.
Trip should admit the same. Jamie had been on her mind constantly since the cookout. But the confession stuck in her throat. She’d look like a fool if she let her friends know she wanted to risk letting Jamie break her heart again. She shoveled a spoonful of potato salad into her mouth to stop from blurting out something stupid. Yeah, she was being a coward, but this wasn’t about her.
Trip put down her plate and slapped her knees. Nothing chanced, nothing gained. “Okay. You’ve got a pulse and you’re hot. You have to slow down and take your time to get a skittish horse to cross the creek. We both know you’re the Glitter Girl, and for once, I agree with your choice. Your problem is that you always break out of the gate early and set the pace too fast.”
“What?” Grace grabbed a drumstick and tried to fling it at Trip.
Clay, always a great wingman, snagged it from her hand and endorsed Trip’s advice. “Nothing wrong with wanting forever, Gracie, but it’s not a good idea to advertise the fact on the first few dates.”
“So far you guys aren’t being very helpful. I need useful advice not a list of what I’m doing wrong. You know her, Trip, what’s the best approach?”
“Yeah, Fast Break, tell us more,” Clay said, opening a couple more beers and passing one to Trip. “I’d like to get something besides a full stomach and a swim for my twenty dollars.”
“Very funny.” Trip washed down her potato salad and turned to Grace. “If you yank on the lead rope to force a horse to follow, he’s either going to balk or his flight instinct will kick in and he’ll drag you off your feet. So instead, you guide the horse to go where you want by teaching them to give to pressure. It’s how a stallion moves a herd, or a boss mare leads it. Before you know it, she’ll be following you around like a puppy.”
“I thought we were talking about dating, not riding lessons.” Clay shook her head. “Seriously, dude, how did you ever get a woman, much less bed half of Pine Cone with advice like that?”
“Dating, training horses, a lot of the same techniques apply. That’s why I’m so good at both.” Trip blew on her fingernails and brushed them against her shoulder.
“Okay, I get it, maybe,” Grace said. “But you know I’ve got no game.”
“Absolutely none.” Trip had to agree. Grace was no player. Whether she admitted it or not, Grace went on every date unconsciously hoping this woman would be the one.
Clay draped her arm around Grace’s shoulder. “The important thing is to just be yourself, Gracie. You’re a people person who enjoys chatting and sharing time, and that’s all it takes. Just let Dani see the real you. Let her know you’re interested. She’ll either come around or she won’t. And if she doesn’t, she’s not worth your time anyway.”
“Exactly,” Trip said. Dani could be good for Grace. She was a good vet and the compassion Trip saw when Dani interacted with clients and their animals spoke volumes about her. Yep. Trip liked her.
“She practically bolted from the cottage the other night, like her butt was on fire.”
“Your cottage?” Trip asked. Now Grace had been withholding information.
Clay rolled her hand, encouraging Grace to come clean.
She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. She’s trying to figure out why Harry hates me, so I asked her to come by and check out my place. We had a couple of drinks, and…”
“What were you wearing?” Trip caught and held Grace’s gaze.
“Perv,” Clay said, nudging Trip with her foot before looking again at Grace. “Tell me it wasn’t your Daisy Dukes.”
Grace nodded.
Trip couldn’t stop her howl of laughter. “You’re killing me, Gracie.”
Clay touched her beer bottle to Trip’s. “Dani’s a goner, but doesn’t know it yet.”
“And we almost kissed…or I almost kissed her. I’m not exactly sure who moved first. It just sort of happened, but it didn’t. I felt like I’d accosted a teenager on her first date. All I saw were elbows and dust shooting up from her shoes all the way back to the house.” Grace paused, her face flushing red. “Then she kissed me at the cookout.” She gave Trip a shy glance. “I think she was jealous after she saw Jay crying on my shoulder.”
“Yes.” Trip pumped her fist in the air. “Then what’d you do?”
“Well, her kiss was a bit awkward. Sort of like ‘There. I did it.’” Grace ducked her head and grinned. “Then I showed her how to really kiss.”
Clay hooted, and Trip reached behind Grace to bump fists with Clay.
“Sounds to me like she’s coming around,” Trip said.
Grace frowned. “I don’t know what to do next.”
“Cook for her,” Clay added, her stomach never far from any conversation.
“Screw her brains out at the first available opportunity,” Trip said. “She can get good food at a dozen restaurants, but great sex—”
“You guys are worthless, totally worthless.” Grace pulled up two handfuls of grass and tossed them simultaneously. “Let’s talk about something else.” She eyed Clay. “Like maybe Clay scoring with the gorgeous River Hemsworth?”
“Wait, what?” Trip looked at her.
“Nothing,” Clay said.
“Come to think of it, why did you leave yesterday in such a hurry? You didn’t even say good-bye. And you left River poolside looking kind of upset.” Trip’s attention was fully focused on Clay now.
“I don’t want to talk about me. We’re here for Grace, remember?”
“Too late,” Grace chimed in.
“So? What happened yesterday?” Trip wanted to know that at least one of them was doing more than treading water.
“We had a misunderstanding,” Clay said.
Trip gritted her teeth. Dragging information out of Clay was as hard as starting an IV on an iguana. “And?”
“We spent last night sorting it out.” Clay’s cheeks flushed red.
“All night?” The pitch of Grace’s voice notched up.
“And this morning.” Clay’s smile was slow and dreamy.
“I knew it.” Grace smiled too, the worry finally gone from her face. “I knew she was into you. That very first day under the maple tree, sitting on that stupid fake plastic deer. If you’d been ice cream, she’d have poured herself all over you like hot fudge.”
“Yeah, well, it just took me a little longer to figure it out.”
“Maybe you’ll finally cheer up. I miss my pal, Clay.” Trip playfully punched Clay’s shoulder. Still, she knew this thing between Clay and River wasn’t a done deal. The toothpick Clay chewed and rolled from one side of her mouth to the other told Trip that she was still worried. Would Clay return to New York with River? They picked at the grass, scratched a few mosquito bites, and peeled damp bottle labels, but nobody was ready to talk about that elephant sitting on the riverbank with them.
Clay rubbed her hands over her face. “Okay, okay…enough about me. We’re here to help Grace, remember?”
“Talking with you two always helps.” Grace smiled. “More chicken? And don’t forget the potato salad.”
Clay and Trip reached for second helpings of both, then settled back to eat. They ate in silence until Clay tossed her empty plate into a garbage bag and offered it to Trip.
Grace wrapped an arm around Clay and kissed her on the cheek, then looked at Trip. “And what about you, Fast Break?” Grace smoothly moved the spotlight away from Clay, who relaxed and lay back on her elbows. “Who’s the next unsuspecting woman to fall victim to the Trip Beaumont charm?”
“Nobody, really.” Trip shook her head. She’d been sure earlier that she wasn’t ready to talk about Jamie, her biggest regret in life. Even eighteen years and lots of women since hadn’t lessened the shame or changed the feeling there would always be a tear in her soul. But how did she explain it? She finally shrugged. “It’s…complicated.”
“Oh, do tell.” Grace rubbed her hands together.
Trip peeled at the label on her beer bottle. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all, but she’d already put it out there. “She’s someone from my past, and she’s not the forgiving type.”
“Somebody you were in a relationship with and you cheated on her?” Grace stared at Trip and sipped her wine cooler. Her smile was slow as she swallowed. “No. You’re too honorable to make a promise, then cheat.” Grace tapped the bottle against her chin, her gaze wandering over the evening light playing in the swirls of the river. Her eyes snapped back to Trip. “Did you sleep with this person’s girlfriend?”
Trip stared at her feet. “When they were together.” She held back the most incriminating detail. Revealing that would be an invasion of Jamie’s privacy.
Clay sat up. “Oh shit, dude, really?”
Grace’s eyebrows shot up. “The girl from college?”
Trip studied her feet, digging her toes in the sand.
Clay frowned. “Did you run into her in Savannah?”
Trip shook her head. “Here. She’s in Pine Cone.”
Grace looked at Clay. “Who did we miss? The only new women in town are…let’s see…Dani and River.” Grace began to sputter as realization dawned across her face. “Jamie? My Jamie?”
No. My Jamie. Trip nodded to confirm it.
Clay shook her head. “I’m confused. Isn’t she the one who’s been sticking parking tickets on your truck like wallpaper?”
Trip smiled grimly. “She’s always been Jamie Do-right.”
“She’s just doing her job, Trip. I’ve asked her to use more discretion, but she’s military—by the book.”
“I’d be happy to pay every single ticket if she’d just talk to me.”
“We’re a sorry bunch,” Grace said.
Trip sighed. “Pathetic.”
They were all silent for a few long moments, staring out at the river while they contemplated their woman issues. Then Grace threw her head back and laughed.
“You guys can sit down here and sulk if you want.” She turned both her thumbs toward herself. “Glitter Girl is going after her woman.” Grace pointed at them again. “And as soon as y’all are done with your little pity party, go home and put on your big girl pants, then go courting too.”