Shaking his head, Vince pushes up off the ground. He was sitting next to Cherie, dipping his legs in the pool, but now he goes over to save Meg from being ignored.
“That’s because you gave them a godawful name,” Vince states, stopping by the little bar Meg has set herself up behind. I tilt my head back and watch as Vince eyeballs a tall, wavy glass of pink and clear alcoholic beverage. “What’s in this thing?”
Meg grins at him. “Happiness.”
He is unimpressed, but takes one anyway.
Mia has been watching too, but now she settles back to sunbathe again and smiles over at me. “He’s such a sucker.”
“I heard that,” Vince calls back.
“Wait, your cherry!” Meg grabs his wrist to keep him from escaping while she plucks a shiny cherry from the jar and drops it in the top of his drink. “You need garnish. It’s classy and fun.”
“Maybe people would want your drinks if you didn’t brand them pink ladies and call out things like ‘wait, your cherry,’” Vince suggests.
“Where’s Adrian?” Meg asks, looking back over her shoulder. “I can force my drinks on Adrian.”
“Jeeze, you’ve objectified me, forced alcohol on me, and now you’re done with me? You’re cold, Meg.”
“Ice cold,” she verifies. “I can objectify you some more if it makes you feel better.” Leaning across the bar, she runs her fingers down his abs. “Rawr.”
“Okay,” Vince says, pushing her hand away. “I think you’ve been sampling the pink ladies yourself.”
“Unfortunately one of the many downsides to a summer pregnancy is no poolside drinks for me. But that doesn’t mean any of you should share my plight.”
Mia sits up, sighing and pushing up off the lounger. “I’ll be your next victim.”
“Oh, good,” Meg says, plucking another cherry and putting it in a second glass. “Do I have to compliment you, or will you just patronize my free bar because you’re my friend?”
“I’ll take pity on you,” Mia tells her, accepting the beverage. “You don’t even have to offer to lick my abs.”
“I only touched Vince’s abs. I’m saving the tongue for Mateo.”
Mia grimaces. “Ah, gross. Gross, gross, gross.”
Vince smirks, winking at Meg over Mia’s head to let her know he appreciated that.
Mia shudders at the mental image of Meg licking Mateo’s abs, abandoning the bar and heading back to the lounger beside me.
“Come on, Francesca,” she says, flashing me a cheerful look. “You’re up.”
“Nope, I’m good,” I tell her, closing my eyes to really sell how relaxed I am.
“You look like a goddess sunbathing over there. That long dark hair is seriously ridiculous. Salvatore is one lucky man.”
I wish that lucky man would hurry up and finish his conversation so he could join me out here. I was looking forward to spending the day with him, and he’s spent the whole afternoon in with my brother. Mateo’s probably managed to win Sal over like he does everyone else. They’re drinking cognac in the study, relaxed with air conditioning while we all sweat out here by the pool.
“Oh, thank god,” Meg suddenly says, then I hear what I assume is a kiss. I tilt my head back and see Mateo has finally come outside, and with him, Adrian and Sal.
Excitement courses through me and I rise from the lounger, going over to greet my man.
“There’s the Morelli I wanted to see,” Sal comments, smiling as his gaze drifts down my body, lingering on the tiny triangles of fabric gingerly held together by little turquoise strings. It’s hard to enjoy being checked out by my sexy fiancé while Meg tries to suck Mateo’s face off right next to him, though. I grimace at her before turning my attention to the much lovelier sight of Salvatore. He’s still dressed in jeans and a light blue, short-sleeved button down that he wore to his mom’s. I’m kind of glad he hasn’t shucked his clothing in favor of pool wear like I suggested; I’m not nearly as cool as Mia with Meg hitting on my man, even if only for the sake of doling out poolside beverages.
Once she stops kissing him, Meg pulls back and flashes Mateo a pretty pout. “Nobody wants my pink ladies.”
He rolls his eyes. “I can’t imagine why.”
“What’s so wrong with the name? God, Morellis are the worst.” Turning her attention to Sal, she says, “Hey, kung pao friend. Would you like a pink lady?”
“Nope.”
Meg rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Adrian. Unlike Sal in his semi-casual outfit, and Mateo, dressed to the nines as usual, Adrian is dressed for the pool in a T-shirt and long swim trunks. He doesn’t swim, but Elise is in a bikini top and a colorful wrap, so presumably she’s going to try to convince him to. Since he adores her, he probably will. “Adrian. Adrian Palmetto. Can I say how much I love you dressed down? You in a T-shirt—”