“I see how it is. The truth comes out,” she teased. Wrapping Shayla in a full embrace, Carrie Ann swayed a little, holding to her tightly, whispering, “Have a great time. Thanks so much for helping me every year. It wouldn’t be the same without you. Love you.”

“Love you too. It’s always a pleasure.” Shayla pulled back making close inspection of her unusual show of emotion. “You okay?”

A sting of sentiment gathered in her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Must be the champagne. Have a great time.”

Shayla squeezed her upper arms. “Call me if you need to talk.”

Jason appeared at her side with another flute of bubbly. Other couples wandered off, stealing away to the dance floor. Feeling relaxed, she took a long sip. The golden effervescent tingled her nose making her giggle a little. Jason held out a hand, encouraging her to sit. She snuggled into the corner of the white outdoor sofa, crossing one leg over the other.

“I’d say tonight was a huge success for you and for the HAHF.” Jason raised his crystal flute. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

The chilled bubbles slid down her throat. She licked her lips, catching a dribble of sweet liquid at the corner of her mouth. Her bottom lip felt numb as she tugged it between her teeth. Carrie Ann hadn’t eaten so much as one appetizer and the effects fuddled her senses, leaving her unsteady and a bit slow.

Easily distracted, she stared off into the distance, mesmerized by the heavy mist moving in. The drone of Jason’s voice slipped into obscurity. The fog took on a golden glow under the chandeliers, swirling in waves and eddies as people moved under the canopy. Without knowing what she agreed to, the words, “Sure,” floated happily from her mouth.

Following his lead, she took another swallow from the crystal flute and placed the empty glass on the table in front of them. She hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow, clutching to Jason as he escorted her to the dance floor.

“Oh, we’re dancing,” it came out more as an ambiguous statement than a question. Her free hand flew to dip at her throat, testing the giddy tremor inside her chest.

Jason caught her around the waist and she automatically draped a wrist near the back of his neck, relaxing against him. The smell of the ocean clung to the damp night air. A cool evening breeze gusted beneath the tent and a shiver chased over her bare shoulders. Carrie Ann slipped her other arm inside the fine silky lining of his suit coat for warmth, molding herself to his masculine form.

“I feel bad…not being able to save you from a date with Ryan.”

Her thoughts jumbled, losing focus to the wispy mist sweeping beneath the hem of her gown as they danced. “You mean Summer?”

Carrie Ann pulled her eyes away from the dreamlike haze to look up at Jason, but as he swayed to the side, her gaze collided with Summer’s. Head on. He stood in the distance beneath a long branch of a pepper tree covered in twinkle lights.

The muted lighting silhouetted his rigid stance, but she could still detect his irritation. His penetrating stare cut to her core.

For some reason his annoyance made her giggle a little. Slyly, she wiggled her fingers up and down in a waving fashion. This only made his heavy brow furrow into a hard squint.

“Yes,” Jason continued. “Hopefully that doesn’t discourage you from going on another date with me.”

Feeling slightly tipsy, she couldn’t contain an awkward, breathy laugh. It made her shake internally from head to toe. Carrie Ann clutched to Jason to keep from stumbling. The feel of his well-built back felt surprisingly nice under her palm.

Words and thoughts weren’t registering correctly. In the back of her mind, she knew there was a question she needed to answer, but her brain wasn’t functioning. She snuggled closer letting her hips sway freely to the rhythm of the music while her eyes fixed on Summer. The creases of her lips bent upward, relishing in the play of muscles under his white dress shirt.

He felt so good pressed against her body, but Summer looked confused, and pissed, and jealous. And far away. Too far away. It felt as if she were in a dream, standing on the outside looking in.

Two plus two were not adding up.

Hearing Jason’s voice at her ear made her recoil, jerking away from his body, as if the mere touch of him scalded her flesh. Her exhales came in labored huffs. The tips of her icy fingers rubbed clumsily at her neck and nape.

“You okay?”

Peering up at Jason, her head bobbled from side-to-side, sluggishly. Confusion grew. Beats of the music streamed through her veins, keeping pace with her heart. She could not understand why Summer was so far away.

Her head twisted, raking a seductive stare over the silhouette beneath the tree. The dim glow from above shadowed his features, hollowing his cheeks and defining the dimple set perfectly in the center of his chin. The man was like a force of nature, his presence a gravitational pull she couldn’t deny.

A slow burn of yearning brought a flush to her cheeks. Old cravings twisted deep inside, turning her heartbeat unruly. Her eyes drifted shut as her lips parted, releasing a long breath. She could feel him from across the room, the implicit fluency of his touch as it traveled over tender, vulnerable secret spaces of her flesh and heart. Places only he knew. Places only he owned. Her body had a mind of its own and it was becoming very, very hungry.

Suddenly, Carrie Ann Lowell felt like a million fucking dollars.

Chapter Six

‡

A pale greyness passed through the window swallowing the day’s light. Carrie Ann laid sprawled out in bed, lying face down, nose squished in a fluffy pillow. She peeled one eyelid open then the other, glaring at a log wall.

Heaviness encumbered her limbs as she drew them beneath her chest. The sound of rain falling on the roof wrapped the space in a hushed solitude. She raised to her elbows, lifting her head from the sateen steel blue pillowcase. The tips of her fingers turned small circles rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Her heart rate picked up speed, scouring the bedroom for familiarities. Carrie Ann made detailed observations of her rustic surroundings, hoping something would ring a bell, but the spacious bedroom held none. Only fine cabin-like furnishings. Her eyes immediately drawn to a large antique armoire filling the far corner of the bedroom. The dark wood almost hidden beneath the distressed sea-glass blue patina. A floor lamp made of antlers sat beside a craftsman style overstuffed chair and ottoman covered in worn leather and a camp-style blanket.

Her head twisted to the right inspecting the rumpled down blanket on the other side of the bed. A shallow indentation on the pillow indicated she’d not slept alone. Panic settled over her like the heavy wool blanket¸ filling her with dread.

“Shit,” she croaked, smacking and licking her dry lips searching for much needed saliva.

Propped on both elbows, her naked breasts bounced as she reached for a tall glass of water on the bedside table fashioned from a tree stump. A wicked hangover pounded her temples. Two blue Advil set beside a folded piece of paper reading:

You’re safe

Take these

I’m outside in the barn

Summer

“Summer?” Her confusion mounted, yet oddly enough, seeing his signature brought a bit of relief to her reeling imagination. Carrie Ann downed the pills, quenching her parched scratchy throat. “Barn? Where the hell am I?”

Every inch of her body was sore and stiff. Fisting the silky sheets, she attempted to slip out of bed, but a bulky weight laying atop the covers between the back of her spread thighs prevented her from moving.

Oh God.

The heaviness stirred, stretching with a shiver before settling a portion of its bulk atop her rump. She wriggled, pressing her hips to the mattress. Noting the tenderness in her inner thighs, she swallowed, hard. Her shoulders raised and lowered with each exaggerated breath she desperately tried to control. There was nothing. Zero recollection of the night. Embarrassment slowly crept over her nude body, bringing a wave of nausea to her tummy.