Page 24 of The Worst Possible Plan

Dottie’s entire face softened. “Oh…”

It wasn’t an oh of concern. It was an oh people usually reserved for newborn babies.

“And two alpacas?” she said dreamily. “With those sweet little faces?”

I snorted. “One of them followed me around like we’d signed adoption papers.”

Her face lit up. “Well, of course it did.”

“Of course?”

“Animals know good people.”

I stared at her. “You think?”

“I’m serious,” she said. “You can’t fool them. They know who’s kind. And they know the bastards.”

I laughed. “Well, I thought it was stalking me. Maybe it thought I had a cookie in my pocket or something.”

“It liked you.”

“Doubt that. My sister is the one gifted with animals. Animals don’t like me. They never do. Believe me.” I loved animals. They just didn’t love me back. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t bother me a little. Especially when all you want is to pet a beautiful fluffy cat and all it did was try to take out your eyes with its claws. “This one spat on my shirt.”

Dottie was still smiling at me. “It was sharing.”

I laughed so hard I nearly snorted coffee through my nose. “I’m fairly certain that’s not how alpacas express affection.”

She shrugged with complete confidence. “Maybe not to you.”

I opened my mouth to say something else, but someone beat me to it.

“There you are,” said a woman’s voice.

I turned in time to see Lola sashaying her way over to my table in a black dress that was way too tight, way too short, and far too sexy for this early in the morning. As she crossed the dining room, I watched three husbands glance up almost in perfect synchronization. Their wives noticed a fraction of a second later and delivered matching elbows. The husbands suddenly became very interested in their toast.

Lola grabbed the chair next to me and sat. “I had such a great time with Leo last night. My thighs are still numb.” She laughed, wiggling her eyebrows as if the rest of the dining room had somehow missed the announcement.

Eww. This was also way too early. I’d barely finished my first cup of coffee, and already Lola was treating breakfast like an after-hours girls’ night. There should’ve been rules about this. Preferably municipal ones. Nothing remotely suggestive before at least nine o’clock and a second cup of coffee.

Dottie tutted, shaking her head with the long-suffering patience of someone who’d heard variations of this conversation approximately five thousand times. She looked at me and said, “I’ll be back with your breakfast.”

Lola raised her arm. “Make that two, darling.”

Dottie gave her an annoyed look before disappearing back into the kitchen, muttering something under her breath about “women with too much energy and not enough shame.”

“You look dreadful,” said Lola, frowning at me as she leaned closer, studying my face with unsettling concentration. “You’ve lost that sparkle. What happened?” She tilted her head another inch. “Actually… no. Wait. You’ve got a different sparkle. It’s just buried under those dark circles under your eyes. Tell me everything.”

I debated whether to tell her and decided that she’d probably hear all about it later, so I might as well. When I was done, Lola had the strangest little smile on her face.

“What?” I asked her.

Lola raised her brows suggestively. “You and the sheriff? You naughty girl. When are you going to do the nasty?”

I snorted. “Nothing happened.” Though I’d thought about it. Once. Twice. A hundred times.

A smile spread over Lola’s face. “Honey, you practically licked him with your eyes, didn’t you?”

My cheeks burned. “You’re crazy.”