of the Cowgirl Up Café back home, brushed past her and into what Kylie was sure they would sense was her den of iniquity.
“Are we supposed to meet here for the brunch?” Cessy asked.
“Uh, no.” Kylie turned quickly, hoping the women wouldn’t notice the remains of last night’s debauchery that still littered the nightstand and floor. “We were supposed to meet downstairs at the buffet.”
Kylie’s frantic search zeroed in on the wedding photo and license she’d left on the chair, and she quickly sat on top of them.
“You’re not ready,” Cessy said, pointing out the obvious.
“No, I’m running a little late, Mrs. Walker. Why don’t you two ladies go on down and let everyone know that we’re... I mean, that I’m on my way.”
“Kylie.” Cessy tsked, looking around the room. “You’re one of the maids of honor. You’re supposed to be hosting the brunch. It’s in bad taste to show up late to your own event.”
Hopefully, Sugar Falls’s resident society matron wouldn’t find out what other forms of bad taste Kylie had recently been engaged in.
“Is your shower running?” asked Freckles—who looked older than Kylie’s grandmother, yet dressed as though she was a runner-up in a Dolly Parton lookalike contest.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just about to hop in when you guys knocked.”
“Well, we’ll just wait out here for you, then. Maybe it’ll speed you along.”
Kylie thought about the man inside her bathroom who, right this second, was probably lathering up his well-muscled body. She couldn’t go in there now or she’d see him in all his angelic glory. She would have blushed in mortification at her lustful thoughts for a stranger, but she was too busy flushing bright red at the realization that the two women looked like they were going to settle in and wait for her to do just that.
Before she could muster a protest, an undoubtedly manly shout sounded from the other side of the door. “Ow! Man, that’s slippery!”
Freckles’s face split into an ear-to-ear lipstick-covered grin. But her slightly younger and overcontrolling cohort looked confused.
“Who was that?” Cessy asked.
“That’s what I call the evidence of a good bachelorette party.” Freckles giggled, slapping her painted on jeans–clad thigh.
“Kylie Chatterson, I can’t believe you brought a man back to your hotel room—and of all times. You couldn’t go one weekend without one?” Cessy looked more exasperated than surprised, and Kylie’s pride stung at the implication that promiscuous behavior was expected from her. Normally she would’ve launched a full verbal attack against any petty remarks directed at her or her loved ones. But the truth of the situation and her growing shame wouldn’t allow her to defend her questionable honor.
“Stop being such a prude, Cessy,” the other woman said. If Kylie hadn’t been sitting across the room in the chair, refusing to budge for fear of revealing the condemning documents, the older waitress probably would’ve high-fived her.
Freckles was the liberal yin to Cessy’s conservative and proper yang. They were a mismatched set of friends, and right about now Kylie fought back tears at their intrusive assumptions. But at this second, she couldn’t argue with the evidence. So she bit her lip and tried to come up with a plan to get them out of her room.
“Well, you’d better not bring some one-night stand to my daughter-in-law’s prewedding brunch. Cooper’s friend, that sweetheart of a man who’s performing the wedding, is going to be there. His father is a minister, and Drew himself is a well-respected and high-ranking officer. The last thing we need is for him to think the bride’s best friend is hooking up with random men.”
The sharp insult was a stiletto to Kylie’s heart. She wanted to scream that the almighty, holier-than-thou Doctor Gregson was too busy being naked in her shower and recovering from a hangover of epic proportions to worry about anyone else’s misconduct.
But she wouldn’t turn this into a bigger scandal and out the poor guy like that—even if misery did love company.
Kylie counted to one hundred under her breath. The only thing stopping her from verbally putting Cessy Walker in her place was the fact that, in this situation, Kylie’s behavior was indefensible. Even if it seemed to be what everyone anticipated. And that was what hurt the most.
Sure, Kylie wore clothes that were arguably a bit too sexy by Sugar Falls, Idaho, standards. But underneath the beauty-queen smile, the spandex and the heels, she was a well-balanced and professional woman.
Heck, Kylie even did Cessy Walker’s—as well as half the town’s—income taxes. It seemed everyone trusted her sensible side when it came to important things like their finances and life savings. But nobody seemed to trust her when it came to moral values that were none of their business anyway.
She was just about to say as much when Freckles finally spoke up and pulled her friend’s arm. “Cessy Walker, don’t try to shame the girl for having a little fun. You were on your third marriage by the time you were Kylie’s age. C’mon now, let’s go meet everyone downstairs. She’s a big girl and can make her own decisions. Besides, she’s so smart...”
Their voices drifted down the hallway as Kylie slammed the door closed.
Just then, Drew poked his head out of the bathroom, probably making sure the coast was clear. “I, uh, don’t have any of my clothes except the ones I wore yesterday. Do you think I have time to go back to my room to change?”
His slim hips were barely covered by a knotted white towel; his wide shoulders and tapering torso were too much for her overcrowded mind to take in. “Just put on the same stuff and get down there before me. Nobody will notice what you’re wearing anyway.”
“Listen,” he started, and she could already see the pity in his face. “I couldn’t help but hear Mrs. Walker’s voice. I’m sorry for the way she spoke to you. I’m sure that if we put our heads together, we can figure out how to minimize the gossip.”
His words stung her pride even more than she’d thought possible. She hated anyone feeling sorry for her and was mortified that he’d overheard the older woman chastising her. Her parents had raised her to be tough, and she’d been on the receiving end of worse insults than the ones he’d just overheard. What she couldn’t handle was pity. His sympathy implied she had no control over her life and needed Doctor Goodbody to step in and save her.
“Don’t worry about it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that gossip in small towns is pretty standard. So just as long as nobody finds out who the man in my room is, I can live with one more blemish on my unearned reputation.”
With that, she grabbed his discarded clothes off the bathroom counter and tossed them toward him before locking herself inside. She didn’t wait to make sure he left before getting under the hot spray of the shower nozzle to scrub away her sins—along with her hurt and embarrassment. All she wanted was for him to get dressed as quickly as possible and get out of her room before she did something stupid, like let him hold her while she cried her fool eyes out.
But twenty minutes later, when she pageant-walked into the reserved dining room for the prewedding brunch as though everything in her life was
