"You are such a liar! You guys are always having parties," she reminded him, but she was charmed nonetheless. She punched him on the shoulder.
"Ow!" he yelped. "You ..." And before she knew it, he was tickling her, and she was laughing so hard she got the hiccups.
"Oops," she said, feeling embarrassed.
"Just hold your nose. Here, I'll do it for you," he said, pinching her nose with his thumb and index finger.
"I can breed," she gasped, still giggling. She pulled his hand away, and then he was holding it tightly in his.
"If you say so," he said, leaning over to give her a kiss, and
164
she met his lips with her open mouth, tasting the mix of salt and sweet liquor in his kiss. As he kissed her, his hand smoothed her hair ever so gently.
A loud honking interrupted them, and they pulled away just in time to see another golf cart pull up next to their overturned one. Grant was sitting in the front seat, and he looked genuinely pained to see his friend alone with Jacqui.
"Jac, you're missing the Killers. And you, my friend, have got a phone call," Grant told Duffy pointedly. "Your girlfriend's on the line."
"So, you've got a girlfriend?" Jacqui said to Duffy, her arms crossed. She got up to sit next to Grant and let him drive her back to the party.
"Ex-girlfriend. We broke up six months ago!" Duffy pleaded. He looked so crushed that Jacqui immediately forgave him. But the golf cart sped back to the house anyway.
She danced with Grant in the middle of the mosh pit, the two of them mangling the lyrics to "Mr. Brightside." He made sure she was relatively unharmed within the circle of slam dancers, but a beefy kid broke through, knocking right into them, and Jacqui stumbled to the ground. She lost Grant in the pushing, milling crowd, and for a moment she was worried she was going to be trampled.
But a strong hand pulled her up to her feet, and she was relieved to find Grant's tall form standing protectively above her
165
once more. He cleared a path through the dance floor to the kitchen. "C'mon, let me get you some ice for that cut," he said. "Sorry about that. I'll have that kid beaten behind the shed," he said in his laconic southern manner. He was Rhett Butler in a Death Cab for Cutie T-shirt.
"I'm all right, really," Jacqui said, touched by his concern.
Grant pulled out a medical-grade ice pack from the fridge, twisted it to release the chemical reaction that created the ice, and held it against Jacqui's forehead gently.
She put a hand over his, pressing it closer to the wound. He was such a gentleman. A ministering angel. They stood like that for a long time without speaking, and part of Jacqui wanted to never stop bleeding. Grant pulled his hand away and assessed the cut on her forehead. "I think you're okay now."
Jacqui nodded, a bit speechless. Grant was so handsome, with his striking eyebrows and gray eyes. The sideburns gave him a rockabilly edge that she found immensely appealing. He was just so sexy--there was an animal magnetism to him that she couldn't resist. The heat of the dance floor had made her blood run quickly, and she looked at him hopefully.
That was all he needed, and without warning, he pinned her against the sink, looked deep into her eyes, and kissed her urgently. There were a few people milling about in the kitchen who soon fled when they noticed what was going on. Jacqui kissed him furiously back, embracing him tightly.
She pulled him closer to her, and when his warm hands
166
slipped up the back of her shirt and down her jeans, she wanted nothing more than to feel his body next to hers.
"They're all in love with you, you know," Mara warned Jacqui when they bumped into each other at the party after Jacqui had stumbled out of the kitchen alone, trying to get her bearings. She and Grant had quickly separated when Duffy walked in, complaining to Grant that the bars were short of mixers.
"They're just having fun," Jacqui demurred, stirring her drink.
"Are you having fun?" Mara asked pointedly. She was covering the party for her column, had already leveled her steady gaze on the trio, and had described them in print as the kind of fellows from my high school who would sit in the back of the class throwing spitballs and clapping erasers but who secretly earned straight As. Smart boys can play dumb too.
Jacqui blushed, thinking of kissing Ben in his room, Duffy by the beach, and Grant in the kitchen. The truth was that when they kissed, she forgot about all the Perrys' divorce as well as the fact that she had kissed one of each guy's best friends a few minutes before. Oh, well, she was just having fun, right?
Later, when Jacqui returned to the main party, she received knowing secret smiles from all three boys.
"This is such a great party," Jacqui said, watching members of the Killers push each other into the pool.