The Spy Who Left Me (30 page)

Treflee clinked glasses all around. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she got misty-eyed, too. Weddings did that to a girl, apparently even weddings that didn’t happen.

Faye raised her glass. “Echoing Laci’s feelings—Carrie’s the best. Who else would cancel a wedding and take her friends on the honeymoon?”

The girls laughed.

Faye winked at Carrie. “You’re going to do just fine, kid.

“To Carrie and the freedom of the single life! No sharing. No compromising on dish patterns. No toilet seats left up!”

“Here, here!” Laci clinked glasses with Faye.

Everyone clinked all around.

Carla was next. “Nursing’s always on my mind, I guess. In that light, there’s no cure like an old cure—a rebound guy!

“To nursing a broken heart! And mending it with a far better, ahem”—she winked and made a gesture indicating well hung—“man!”

The girls exploded in laughter. Everyone drank.

Brandy raised her toast. “Oh, to hell with men. Down with men! Up with freedom!”

Everyone except Treflee laughed and applauded. The toasting had just taken a dangerous turn that wasn’t beneficial to her mission. The last thing she needed Ty thinking was that she was down on men, him in particular. As she glanced at him, she noticed he was looking a bit uncomfortable, too. She had to get the mission back on track and not lose that loving feeling she’d been cultivating with Ty all evening.

And yet, it was up to her to end this thing with a bang.

“Treflee?” Laci shot her a challenging top-that look.

Treflee smiled and raised her glass with too much vigor, sloshing the blue contents out onto the white tablecloth as she thought on her feet.

Ty was clearing dishes at the far end of the table. She had to send him a very clear come-hither message so she could get him naked and find that thing from the mountain.

She cleared her throat. “I may not be the closest person to Carrie, but I have bragging rights for knowing her longest. Our moms used to sleep us in the same crib.” She smiled at her cousin.

“You all know what I’m going through with a certain man right now.”

The girls murmured and nodded. Ty looked away, seemingly very busy stacking dishes.

“Which I think qualifies me to give some advice and say this—fate chooses your family. Sometimes convenience chooses your friends. But your heart chooses your husband.”

Her voice broke with emotion, which startled even her. She cleared her throat and smiled through it. “You vow to love each other for life. Which is why, in the end, he’s the only person who can really, truly hurt you.”

Ty looked up from clearing dishes.

Which was when she noticed no one had raised their glasses and the group had gone silent.

She took a deep breath. “Don’t close your heart off to love. Go for it. If it takes a rebound guy to get you back in the game, do it.” She deliberately smiled at Ty.

The girls stared at her staring at him. Which was exactly what she had intended—to telegraph her intentions so she didn’t lose her nerve. The girls knew she had a thing for him. They’d be downright disappointed if she didn’t make a fool over herself with Ty soon. And here was the perfect opportunity.

Was that a little sigh she heard?

She smiled at her cousin. “You’ll love again.” She gave Ty a sidelong look. “To second chances at love!”

Ty stared back at her, studying her as if she were sending a coded message he wasn’t certain he was deciphering correctly. Usually he didn’t have any trouble picking up on her signals. Maybe the dim lighting was interfering with her transmission.

But a little mystery never hurt anyone, even a master spy, she thought with satisfaction.

“Bottoms up!” Still staring at Ty, she drained her glass while the other girls joined her.

Carrie cleared her throat. “I think it’s time for cake. Ty?” She held her hand to the side of her mouth and made an aside to Treflee. “Calm yourself. This isn’t the bachelorette party. He isn’t going to be jumping out of it covered in frosting.”

Carrie knew how much she loved icing. She’d lick it off a piece of cardboard.

Everyone but Laci laughed, but even she wore an expression of resignation. Treflee had bested her in the competition for Ty.

Ty nodded and disappeared to get the cake. Treflee thought he moved a little faster than normal as she made a show for the girls of ogling his backside.
Oh, isn’t a buzz fun!

Carrie clapped her hands. “Present time!”

Brandy picked up the box by her plate, held it to her ear, and shook it. “You didn’t have to give us a bridesmaid gift, Carrie.”

“Yeah?” Carrie smiled. “I won’t look so magnanimous once you open them!”

Treflee ripped into her presents with the other girls. But unfortunately, she knew her cousin’s tastes all too well—sparkly and flashy.

And she wasn’t disappointed. Carrie gave them each a gaudy hot-pink rhinestone bracelet with a silver heart charm engraved with their name and Carrie’s wedding date, and a matching pair of monogrammed taffeta wedding flip-flops.

Carrie picked up one of Laci’s flip-flops and displayed it for the group like a shoe salesman with a tempting new offering. “You were supposed to kick off your heels after the wedding and relax in these babies while still styling. With the woven mats, they’re really comfy.”

“Oh, let me see!” Laci snatched it out of Carrie’s hand and put it on.

Laci stood up and strutted once around the table, hand on hip, modeling the flip-flops and bracelet before taking her seat again.

Carrie laughed and applauded. “Fabulous! But for future reference—never engrave or monogram any bridal gift until
after
the wedding.”

“Better to never monogram anything.
Ever
.” Treflee hooked her bracelet on. It may have been on the showy side, but it sparkled prettily in the tiki light.

Carrie raised her glass. “To a monogram-free world!”

“Cheers!”

A few minutes later, Ty arrived carrying a luscious three-layer guava cake.

Carrie clapped again. “Let them eat cake! I get to cut.” She grabbed a silver cake server.

Faye chimed in. “Cut me a sliver to put beneath my pillow.”

“Beneath your pillow?” Carla gave her a gentle elbow. “Who are you planning on dreaming about?”

Faye slid her bracelet on and winked. “The one man I definitely should
not
marry!”

As the other girls laughed, Treflee couldn’t help shooting a surreptitious look Ty’s way. Would dreaming about him with a piece of called-off wedding cake beneath her pillow have stopped her from marrying him?

Laci grabbed a slice of cake and pushed back her chair. She eyed the bar. “I need a drink to wash this cake down with.”

Brandy slid back, too, slipping on her taffeta flip-flops and slapping them against her feet with her toes. “And some music to try out these new dancing shoes.”

Ty took his cue and headed for the bar.

The way the girls drank, he’d be busy for hours. While Ty was occupied, Treflee intended to seize the opportunity to search his tent. Not that she seriously believed he’d leave anything valuable lying around for her or anyone else to find. But she was desperate and bound by the code of suspicious and highly curious wives to take a look.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Treflee paused at the opening to Ty’s tent. The last time she’d searched his room, someone had tried to kill her with a lei. She looked down at the pink and white plumeria flowers looped around her neck. Unlike plastic, this real flower one was too delicate to do much damage.

While Greg unwittingly created a diversion as he banged, scraped, and loaded dishes into the caterer’s bin, she slipped into Ty’s tent.

Not surprisingly, it was a real bachelor-pad tent. A backpack and half a case of beer tossed in the corner, a full-sized inflatable air mattress in the middle of the space, a couple of towels and some toiletries and clothes lying around. All that was missing for the perfect ambience was a box of condoms.

She tested the air mattress with her foot. Not bad for an evening romp if it came to that. Pretty cushy, with a fair amount of bounce.

She looked through the towels, toiletries, and clothes. Nothing, as expected. She replaced them as she’d found them. Outside, Greg shattered a dish. She jumped.

Did real spies startle so easily? Did her terminally unperturbable husband, Ty? If she was going to keep this up much longer, she needed to develop unflappable nerves and eyes in the back of her head.

She grabbed the backpack and riffled through it quickly. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing! She did a little mental cursing. Foiled again! She put everything back more or less as she’d found it. Having a photographic memory would have been a big asset right about now.

Something rustled outside. She froze, heart pounding. Listening. Barely breathing for what seemed like an eternity.

Silence, pan clanking, and drunken laughter. No psychotic lei stranglers jumped in from the bushes. Finally, she peeked through the tent flap and made her exit.

She’d tried to avoid it, she really had, but fate had left her only one option—get Ty out of his clothes and search them. And him.

*   *   *

Out of the corner of his eye, Ty saw Treflee sneak off as he poured the girls another round. A few more and they’d pass out. It wouldn’t surprise him if Treflee was off to search his tent. The woman had prying eyes and her curiosity was anything but idle. She was probably looking for more dirt on him and a way to get him to sign those damned papers. He knew better than to believe her suddenly flirtatious act. She was up to something. He intended to make sure it backfired on her.

He wondered if she really thought he’d leave anything lying around. She’d always been too optimistic for her own good. He’d even hidden the pearls he planned to give her tonight.

He smiled to himself. Just how far would she go to get what she thought she wanted? He knew what he wanted—her naked and in his arms. No divorce. Ever.

He had a plan to get her there. Just as soon as the eighty proof ran out.

*   *   *

Carrie caught Treflee’s arm as she returned to the party. “Where have you been?”

Treflee pointed to the Porta Pottis behind the tents.

“You’ve been gone a long time.” Carrie’s speech was almost too precise, as if she were trying too hard not to slur.

Treflee shrugged, hoping Ty hadn’t noticed her absence, too. She’d thought she’d been quick in his tent. Time flies when you’re playing spy.

“I thought you’d chickened out,” Carrie said.

“What?”

“That speech at dinner and the way you looked at him like he was a piece of huli-huli chicken. When are you going to make a move on our hot tour guide, Ty?”

“That blatant?”
Good, I’ve done my job.

“Totally.”

“He’s playing bartender right now—”

“No problem. I’ll release him!” Carrie made a grand gesture, as if she were a queen handing out pardons.

“Yeah, do that.” Treflee’s heart pounded. Ty naked—way too salacious a thought after a six-month abstinence stint.

“I will.” Carrie nodded. “I will.”

She grabbed Treflee’s arm and dragged her to the bar. She snapped her fingers to get Ty’s attention. “The girls have had enough. Shift’s over.”

She turned from him toward the girls and waved her arms. “Hey! Closing time. One last call if you want alcohol.”

Brandy called out for her to grab what was left of the hard stuff and come join them.

Carrie slapped the bar. “Okay. You’re done.” She made a shooing motion. “Go.”

She grabbed the remains of the last bottle of coconut rum and wandered off to share with the others.

Ty stepped away from the bar and watched Carrie walk off. “Your cousin’s a world-class heavyweight drinker. Anyone else would have passed out by now.”

Treflee nodded. “The ride back tomorrow should be fun. They’re all going to have magnificent hangovers in the morning.” She had a wicked thought. “How fun would it be if I hid their sunglasses?”

His eyes twinkled. “You’d have to hide their rearview spy glasses, too.”

“Good point.”

Ty leaned toward her and whispered in a low, sexy voice, “Any particular reason Carrie thought it was time to shut down the bar?”

Treflee tried to appear nonchalant. “She knows her limit.”

“Does she?”

Treflee nodded.

Ty took her arm and whispered in her ear, “Rebound guy? Seriously?”

She stared up at him, trying to keep her heart from hammering out of control, and laughed for the others’ benefit. “Why not? Ty the tour guide’s hot and handy.” She ran her gaze over him, letting her alcohol-induced flirty side take over. “I don’t think my husband will mind.”

He stared at her mouth, looking as if he wanted to kiss her. “No, I don’t think he’ll mind at all.” He paused. “Why this change of heart?”