Stacy and Layne had not discussed anything further than that night, but Stacy had hoped she might see her again. She was thoroughly disappointed when she woke up in that hotel room alone, and even more so when the Calloway lead ran dry. After her move to New Orleans and meeting Ronnie, she’d listen to Ronnie speak often about her closest friends. Stacy had never dreamed that the woman she’d let get away without even a phone number was the Layne who Ronnie was so fond of. As Stacy stared at the shoulder she’d kissed, her hatred for irony deepened.
Irony was a cold-hearted bitch that reared her head at all the inopportune times, and this was certainly no exception. She liked Ronnie, but Chloe—or Layne rather—had made a mark on her. Before meeting Ronnie, Stacy had spent many a night mentally reliving each steamy kiss, each look, each stroke. Layne had unknowingly taken something from her that night, and Stacy wasn’t exactly sure what it was or even if she wanted it back. She had been left with more than memories—a sweet longing that she had come to accept would never be quenched, and as she looked at that shoulder, she knew for a fact that her fantasy of reconnecting someday would not come true in the way she dreamed.
“So how did you two meet?” Molly asked, softly glancing nervously at the front of the van.
She knows, Stacy thought to herself, and looked at the way Molly’s partner stared at her almost imploringly.
They both know.
“We met in a bar,” Ronnie said with a laugh. “Stacy just moved to New Orleans from Detroit.”
“Detroit,” Molly repeated. “Are you from there originally? I’m not picking up on an accent.”
“No, I was born in Baton Rouge and lived there until I graduated from LSU.”
“She’s an artist,” Ronnie said proudly. “I haven’t seen any of her paintings yet, but her sketches are amazing.”
“Amateur artist,” Stacy asserted quickly.
Listening to the conversation, Layne closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the glass of the passenger window as she recalled the question Stacy had asked during their encounter.
“What colors do you see when you close your eyes?”
Layne had thought the question odd, but as Stacy kissed her way down Layne’s body, Layne closed her eyes and saw red.
“Red is the color of passion,” Stacy said before she ran her tongue over the top of Layne’s thigh.
“Layne, I understand you moved to a new place,” Ronnie said louder from the backseat.
“She did,” Molly answered when Layne pretended not to hear, “right down the street from us. The house is adorable.”
“I haven’t talked to her about Olivia,” Ronnie said softly. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” Jenny said with a nod, her gaze meeting Stacy’s for a millisecond before looking away.
Ronnie turned to Stacy. “Olivia is Layne’s ex. I’m sure you gathered they broke up recently.”
Stacy nodded, wondering how recently. That would explain why Layne lied to her about her real name and why she left without so much as a goodbye. Someone was probably waiting for her at home. She turned and looked out the window, not wanting to hear anything else about Layne Stone.
The landscape looked much like that of Louisiana, and the farther they traveled, the more wooded everything became with an interspersing of houses here and there. Stacy watched it all fly by, wondering what she should say to Ronnie. She’d missed her opportunity at the airport because she’d been floored when Ronnie pointed out her friends and Stacy’s gaze fell on a pair of startled blue eyes. And when Ronnie introduced Layne by her real name, Stacy’s shock turned to anger. She didn’t bother to examine why she felt that way because being pissed off trumped what she felt after her encounter with Layne, and she hoped it would last the entire trip.
“Was that a joke?” Jenny said loudly. “Hey, Patty, was that sign for real? Was that a bear crossing?”
The driver spoke up loud enough for everyone to hear. “Black bear and yes. We have quite a few around here.”
“Layne’s tiger and bears, oh, my,” Jenny said with a laugh.
“Layne’s tiger?” Stacy inquired, looking at Ronnie.
“It’s what her boss calls her. She’s the makes-things-happen kind of girl, and no one gets in her way,” Ronnie said with a note of pride.
Stacy nodded and looked back out the window as Ronnie draped an arm over her shoulders.
“You’ll be given a map of the grounds. The rules for your safety are on the back,” Patty continued. “Pay close attention to the one that says not to leave food outside your cabins and do not feed the animals.” She looked up into the rearview mirror. “If you feed them, they will come.”
Patty slowed and turned off the main highway onto a sandy road. Palm trees grew wild among the pines and oaks. Every so often, there’d be a break in the thick foliage, and Stacy caught glimpses of people on horseback. She noticed women fishing on the banks of a large pond. It looked like a lot of fun, and she hoped that she’d be able to enjoy it. Stacy grabbed a hold of the seat in front of her when the van came to an abrupt stop. She was the last to climb out and joined the others who stood in a circle. Layne glanced at her and quickly looked away, her expression blank.
“We’ll go ahead and put your luggage in your cabins.” Patty pointed to a trail. “Follow that up to the main house, you can’t miss it. Someone at the front desk will check you in. I hope you enjoy your stay.” She touched the brim of her cowboy hat.
Stacy brought up the rear when Ronnie sidled up to Layne and noted the pale skin of Layne’s legs. In Detroit, she’d noticed that Layne was fair-skinned, but in the stark light of day, those legs looked as though they’d never seen the sun. She clamped her lips tightly together as a flash of that same body naked filled her mind. It all seemed like a sexy dream that suddenly turned into an ugly nightmare.
“Welcome to Moss Ranch,” a woman greeted them brightly as they walked into the main house. “I’m Les McGill, my partner,” she waved a hand at another woman, “is Joy Kimball. You’ve managed to arrive right at lunch. Would you ladies like to eat before we check you in?”
“Uh, y’all go on ahead.” Layne stepped forward. “I’ll take care of this and join you.”
“Okay, great.” Jenny tried to usher everyone to the dining room that was just off the reception area.
“Go ahead, sweetie.” Ronnie kissed Stacy quickly on the mouth. “I’ll stay with Layne. We’ll be along in a minute.”
Layne walked over to the counter with Les, and Ronnie joined her. When Les turned to collect the paperwork and keys, Ronnie put an arm around Layne’s waist. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you since the thing with Olivia.”
Layne glanced at her and smiled. “I got the flowers you sent. I knew you were thinking of me.”
“It was time, Layne, you know that, right?”
“Well past due.” Layne turned when Les put the paperwork in front of her and put her credit card on the counter.
“You’re not paying for our cabin.” Ronnie pulled out her wallet and presented Les with her credit card. “Stacy paid for the flights, I pay for this. I’ll give you some money toward Molly and Jenny’s bill, too. Molly told me what you did.” Les took the cards, turned, and began punching keys on the computer.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ronnie asked. “You look a little down in the dumps.”
“This vacation wasn’t my idea,” Layne said, averting her gaze. “David decided that I was overworked and basically banned me from the office. I guess I’m kind of stressed about what I’m going to walk back into.” It wasn’t a total lie, but the truth wasn’t something Layne was willing to entertain.
“You just let all of that go.” Ronnie rubbed her back soothingly. “There’s nothing you can do about it right now anyway. Relax and have a good time.”
Impossible, Layne thought to herself, but she smiled.
“Ladies, you’re all set. After lunch, Stick will show you to your cabins.” Les smiled when Layne and Ronnie looked at her questioningly. “That’s one of our hands. Her real name is Agatha Martin. She prefers Stick. Ask her why, she enjoys telling the story. Enjoy your lunch.”
Layne walked toward what was termed the mess hall in the brochure and expected to see picnic tables where dusty cowhands fresh off the trail ate beans and franks off metal plates. But what greeted her was a brightly lit room filled with moderate-sized round tables covered in white cloths with fresh flowers as the centerpiece. A large buffet and salad bar split the room in half, and the women who gathered there weren’t dressed in western garb. Instead, they looked much like Layne and her friends dressed casually in shorts, T-shirts, and tank tops. The only cowboy boots in sight were on a woman who stood talking to a group at one of the tables. She glanced at Layne and Ronnie as they walked into the room and smiled.
“They’re over there.” Ronnie took Layne by the arm.
Jenny’s plate was already loaded when they joined the group at their table. “Plates are on the buffet, and drinks are over there.” Jenny pointed at the corner. “You’re gonna love the salad bar, Layne.”
Stacy was nowhere in sight. Layne dropped her backpack in the chair next to Jenny, and her stomach started to growl when she got a whiff of the barbecue. “You need anything else, Jen, maybe another rack of ribs or perhaps a wildebeest?”
“I’m starving. All I had this morning was a muffin. I’ll get my own wildebeest, thank you very much.”
Layne went over to the salad bar and surveyed the impressive spread as she picked up a plate.
“It’s odd seeing you here…Chloe.”
Layne stiffened and looked back at the table, finding Molly and Ronnie just sitting down. “I can explain.”
Stacy moved beside her and picked at the broccoli with a pair of tongs. “You don’t need to. I think I understand why you lied about your name and left without saying goodbye.”
Layne straightened, keeping her face hidden from the others behind the top of the buffet. “You didn’t give any indication that you expected more than what…we did.”
“A note would’ve been nice, but like I said, I do understand now why you weren’t honest.”
Layne felt her anger flash at the sanctimonious attitude. “You weren’t exactly honest with Ronnie either at the airport, and I can only assume it’s more serious with her than the one-night stand we had,” Layne said lowly.
Stacy met her eye for the first time. “You didn’t either,
best friend
. But the simple truth of it is, what happened between us occurred before I ever met Ronnie. She does deserve to know the tie we have, but when exactly do you suggest I tell her?”
Layne bit the inside of her cheek. She’d been asking herself that same question since the encounter at the airport. “I don’t know. This is all so damn…overwhelming.”
“Yes, it is,” Stacy said with a nod. “I was more than a little taken aback when I realized who you really were and that you’re Alana’s colleague. The one she speaks so highly of, the one she was going to introduce me to that night. She thought we could at least be friends since we had so much in common and I was planning to move to New Orleans. Alana even gave me a stern warning not to hit on you because you were so very faithful to your partner. Had I known who you really were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Really?” Layne shot back hotly. “I thought for the
Mayeaux
women, commitment just sweetened the challenge of getting the prey into bed. Frankly, why do you care at all?”
Stacy watched Layne stalk off without awaiting a response, which was probably the best thing, because she couldn’t answer the question. Why did she care? Why did it make her so angry to know that Layne had a girlfriend? That she was a womanizer Stacy could not deny. She’d sweet-talked many a woman between the sheets and had sneaked away, not caring what the other party felt in the light of morning. Perhaps the most plausible answer was that she was not accustomed to being left behind scratching her head.
When Stacy joined the group, Layne kept her focus on her plate that held one slice of roast and a few pieces of steamed asparagus. She appeared to be doing more slicing than eating. Stacy wasn’t sure if Molly had seen them arguing or if she sensed the tension Stacy felt swirling around her and Layne, but Molly began chattering incessantly.