Page 133 of Rescuing Mary

Rayne shook her head. “Nope. Sure doesn’t seem like it.”

“I think it’s so romantic that Ghost is taking you back to London and the same hotel you had your one-night stand in all those years ago.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing,” Rayne agreed.

“What time are you and Ghost leaving tomorrow?”

“Our flight doesn’t leave until ten in the evening, but Ghost hates to be late, so I’m sure we’ll leave here around three in the afternoon.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “At least you’re going first class.”

“Right? Although Ghost is all upset that they have those pod things. I think he wanted to rejoin the mile-high club.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “I remember when you told me about you guys going at it and almost getting caught the last time you flew overseas together. You’d think he’d have learned his lesson.”

Rayne giggled. “Apparently not. But I have to say, he can’t wait until I get home tonight. He loves when you and I go out together.”

“Why, because you come home drunk and he gets to have his wicked way with you?”

Rayne laughed again. “As if you don’t get the same thing when you get home!”

“That’s true. And it’s much easier since the kids are out of the house and on their own. We don’t have to be quite so creative.”

“Preach it, sister,” Rayne said, nodding. “Last month, I barely made it through the door before Ghost was on me.”

Both women giggled.

“I love you, Mare,” Rayne said, sobering up.

“Don’t start,” Mary said, holding up a hand.

“Seriously, I do. I have no idea what I’d do without you. When I thought I was the worst mom ever, you talked me off the ledge. When Ghost got hurt on that one mission, you were there for me, making sure my kids didn’t starve to death. When Greta called from college crying because she’d almost been raped at that party, you and Truck not only kept Ghost from going down there and killing the asshole, you drove the four hours with me to get to her. Then you scared that pissant frat boy so badly by threatening to not only kick his ass in front of all his buddies, but swearing if he so much as looked at another girl cross-eyed after that, you’d know and ruin him.”

“I was bluffing,” Mary mumbled.

“But he didn’t know that. And you showed Greta that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for her. My life wouldn’t be the same without you, Mare.”

“Oh, shit,” Mary said, pressing her lips together, trying not to cry.

“I know why you did what you did all those years ago, but I swear to God, if you ever do something so stupid again, I’m gonna kill you myself, hear me?”

Mary nodded.

Rayne turned her head and yelled for the bartender. “We need another, Jimmy!”

With a smirk, the good-looking, young, buff bartender poured two more shots and pushed them across the bar.

Mary knew when the college kid looked at them, he saw two middle-aged women way past their prime, probably desperate and looking for a hookup. But he’d be wrong. Oh, they might be middle-aged, but they were nowhere near their prime. They still had years and years to cause trouble together. And looking for a hookup? No way. Their men were at home waiting for them.

Mary knew as much about Rayne’s love life as she did her own—that’s how best friends operated, they didn’t keep secrets from each other, even when it came to things like menopause, or how well and often their men still made love to them. She also knew for a fact that her best friend was still having as much amazing sex as she had twenty-five years ago.

“I love you, Raynie,” Mary told her best friend. “The day we met at that bar was the best day of my life. I would go through cancer all over again, twice, if it meant having you in my life.”

“Don’t say that!” Rayne protested immediately. “No more fucking cancer for you, bitch!”

Mary laughed. When Rayne got drunk, she always got sappy…and swore like a sailor.

Just then a song came on. It was an oldie, way older than most of the people in the bar at the moment, but Rayne immediately turned to Mary and screamed, “Black Eyed Peas! We have to dance!”