Drake Hotel, Gloria exited with about as much dignity as a cockroach scuttling out of a room when the light came on, finding the nearest crack to crawl inside. Because of the big slippers she wore, her scuttling was more of a shuffle-slide.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” the bellboy called.
Ignoring him, Gloria checked the screen of her phone. It was 3:17 and still no message from Daisy.
Crap.
She leaned against the wall, trying to figure out what to do. She wasn’t about to interrupt her friend on her wedding night, that was for sure. But what were her options? Go back to her room? Tell the cowboy to get out?
Just like that, her vision went all spotty again and Gloria doubled over to keep from passing out. Seriously! What was it about the man that pushed her to the brink of a panic attack just by thinking about him? If that wasn’t a sign that tonight had been a big, fucking mistake, what was?
She concentrated on her breathing again, following the advice her psychologist had given her a decade ago to keep the sense of panic at bay. But the ringing between her ears only got louder.
Wait. That wasn’t between her ears, that was her phone.
“Gloria?” Daisy’s voice was soft and slurred with sleep. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I’m standing outside your door.”
“You’re where?”
“Just outside.”
“What are you doing there?”
“I don’t know.”
The phone went dead. Turning toward the wall, Gloria banged her head softly against it. This was ridiculous. Here she was standing outside her best friend’s honeymoon suite, on her wedding night.
The door opened and Daisy stuck her head out. At least her best friend looked just as disheveled as Gloria. That made her feel better. And, the fact that her friend was letting her in at all. She had to count that as a blessing.
“What happened to you?” Daisy asked, covering a yawn that looked suspiciously like a smile, as she opened the door wider.
So her best friend should be a little less amused and a little more empathetic, but whatever, she was there. Daisy closed the door, slid her arm through Gloria’s and pulled her close. Gloria held on tight, appreciating the simple comfort of having a best friend when she needed one.
“How’s the cowboy?”
Some best friend. “How’d you know?”
Daisy’s eyes twinkled. “The way you two were dirty dancing out there tonight? Uh, yeah, doesn’t take a genius.”
Gloria dropped to the big white couch in the sitting area of the suite. Weird how she’d been there only twelve hours earlier, in this exact place, laughing and toasting, never imagining she’d be back. The cowboy never even entering her mind. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He’d been annoying the hell out of her all day. Contradicting her, teasing her by calling her darlin’ and Red and other offensive pet names. He was the kind of macho man she despised and avoided.
Until tonight.
Daisy sat next to her and Gloria realized they were dressed exactly the same, both sporting the too-big hotel robes, but Daisy’s feet were bare, and her toes painted a pretty pink that matched the icing on the cupcakes that had served as Daisy’s wedding cake. Focusing on Daisy’s toes seemed like the only way to not focus on what just happened.
“Tell me...” Daisy said, patting Gloria’s knee. “Is the big cowboy...big all over?”
“Daisy!”
This time Daisy didn’t even bother covering up her laugh. “Honestly, Glo. What’s the problem?”
“I did not mean to sleep with him.”
“Hmm.” Daisy tilted her head to one side. “Kind of looked like you did.”
“I don’t like him.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I’ve disliked him from the moment I met him. Remember what a jerk he was at your fund-raiser last year?”
“Of course I remember the fund-raiser. I don’t remember him being a jerk. I thought he was sort of—”
“No.” Gloria held up a finger to stop Daisy. “He’s an ass. He may be Jamie’s cousin, but he’s an ass.”
Daisy’s brows drew together. “So, why’d you sleep with him?”
“I don’t know.” Gloria dropped her head to her hands. All she knew was that every time she thought of him she felt as if she was in a tiny, constricted space where there wasn’t enough air and she couldn’t move and she couldn’t breathe and she needed to get out of there as fast as she could.
They sat there for a few minutes, Daisy rubbing slow, comforting circles on Gloria’s back. “So,” she said eventually. “The sex was bad, huh?”
Gloria didn’t answer at first. “Well...”
Daisy’s hand stopped moving. “Does that mean the sex was good?”
“No. It was not good.” Gloria lifted her head to meet her friend’s gaze.
Liar!
Gloria’s body—the lower bits—quivered indecently at the thought of the sex. Dillon was certainly adept between the sheets. God, the man had owned her body yet took the time to give her pleasure, as well—more than once. It was too much. The way he made her feel so beautiful and desirable and good. The way he’d murmured wicked things in her ear...
“Glo?”
“Hmm?”
“How come you’re smiling?”
She wasn’t smiling. Absolutely not.
“You’re panting, too.”
The bedroom door opened and Daisy’s husband, Jamie, emerged, hair tousled, eyes squinty with sleep. “Wife, of less than twenty-four hours...what are you doing out here?” He rubbed his eyes. “Oh. Hi, Gloria.”
Gloria covered her face and moaned. It was one thing to be mortified in front of your best friend, quite another in front of her nearly naked new husband.
“Hon,” Daisy said sweetly. “Go put on some clothes.”
“I am wearing clothes.”
“Umm...you’re wearing underwear and they really don’t do a good job of covering up your husbandly junk.”
Mortification did not even begin to describe Gloria’s current situation. This was a mess, a royal-flipping mess, and if there was one thing she loathed above all else, it was a mess. Gloria pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets so hard that
