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“Unless it’s in the bedroom,” Ruthanne calls out.
Millie nods. “Damn straight.”
I glance at the doorway wishfully. Maybe I should leave. I’ve known these women all my life, and I do not need to hear about their sex lives. Millie was my mom’s first grade teacher, but she retired while I was still in diapers. And Ruthanne has been friends with my mom since before I was born—so, as a kid, she was like the cool aunt who let me do all the things my parents said I couldn’t do or tried to stop me from doing.
Like secretly writing romance novels.
She’s the only one who knows that secret, and I have no idea why she’s so hellbent on having me here tonight. Why would she blindside me with the fact that we’re discussing my book?
The room falls silent, and I realize everyone is staring at me.
“Well, Cam.” Sylvie rolls her eyes. “Seems that the man gets the veto vote even though he has no right to. So, will we be reading—like we always do—or not?”
I hope my expression passes for a smile despite how hard my teeth clench. “Please don’t change anything on my account.”
Sylvie continues to glower at me. I have no idea what I’ve done to make her so bristly.
“You may have read the book, but don’t think you can show up and start mansplaining it to us.”
Since I wrote the series, if anyone was going to explain it, it would be me. But it’s not like I can tell her that. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Tabs bumps my knee under the table. Her eyes twinkle beneath her glasses and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, the way she always does when she’s trying not to smile or laugh.
And just like that, my irritation at being here melts away. I can’t help but wonder if she’d make that same face with my beard tickling her inner thighs. I shake my head to erase the image.
Tabs taps the table twice. “Let’s vote on a scene.”
“Since Cam is our guest,” Ruthanne enthuses, “he should read out the choices.”
I make eye contact with Tabs and she smirks, an expression that always makes my blood boil. I look away, like I always do.
She hands me the paperback and I look over the three Post-its. “Gabriella and the Duke kiss, Gabriella and the Duke argue, and Gabriella and the Duke heart. Heart?” I look at the page and recognize the scene. “The hero and heroine make love,” I clarify.
“What are you talking about?” Tabs sounds almost offended. “The Duke and Gabriella engage in some hot foreplay, but they never make love.”
My blood pressure spikes. I stand, leaning with my fists on the table. “What are you talking about? They one hundred percent make love. The vulnerability it takes for the Duke to take that chance and tell Gabriella how he’s loved her for years? Her trust in him to believe he truly loves her, despite their history? If what follows isn’t making love, I don’t know what is.”
I’m too amped to sit, so I walk to the back of the room and stare out a window to calm myself.
“Ooh, I vote we read and discuss that scene,” Millie chimes in.
“That scene certainly is one to get passionate about,” Ruthanne adds. “Interesting how all the scenes you’ve chosen are the almost sex scenes, Tabitha.”
My palms are sweaty. Blood pounds in my ears. And for the first time in my life, I wish I wrote murder mysteries instead of romance. Then at least I’d know how to kill Ruthanne and get away with it.
Tabs snorts. “Maybe I chose those scenes because I think the author is taking way too long to get the couple together, and I want to know if you agree.”
I flinch and cross my arms over my chest.
“Now how about a vote?” she asks. “Kiss?”
No one raises their hand.
“Argue?”
Sylvie, Tabs and I raise our hands.
“Heart?”
