A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) by Darynda Jones

She rose onto her feet. Both man and truck were gone. When she looked back, Lottie was coming out of it. She scooted against the liquor case, her knees drawn, hands cradling her forehead.

Sun squelched the dubious scowl threatening to break free. “Stay put. I’ll call an ambulance.”

Lottie’s eyes widened, but she recovered quickly. “Oh, no. I just need some water. I’m much better now.”

Sun leaned closer and let the barest hint of the scowl she’d been holding back float to the surface. “Oh, I insist.”

The sheepish air that came over Lottie’s entire demeanor spoke volumes as Sun depressed the talk button on her mic. Lottie was going to urgent care and she’d have every test known to man run on her before the day was done if Sun had anything to do with it. Or she could charge her with obstruction. So many choices, so few hours in the day.

The lights were out at the Freyr house, thus Sun headed straight for her own humble abode and the magnificent shower ensconced within. No need to wake Auri.

Thirty minutes later, squeaky clean and slightly annoyed that Carver had texted her yet again, she’d settled on her sofa in a knee-length nightshirt, beige slouch socks, and an overfilled glass of chardonnay. She opened her laptop to do some research on Keith Seabright when a knock sounded at the door. She froze. Surely he wouldn’t. Surely he didn’t know where she lived.

She took a huge gulp of wine, then stood and walked to the door, fully prepared to confront Carver and inform him that their one date was also going to be their only date. Honestly, the nerve of the guy.

She did a quick scan of the room. All of her strategically placed décor that served as lethal weapons should she or Auri ever need them were in place. A metal arrangement with razor-sharp, detachable leaves. An umbrella in a stand that harbored a short sword. A tissue box with a Taser underneath.

The first thing she did every time she entered the house was lock up her gun. The wall safe sat just inside the front door. Having seen too many crime scenes, she quickly entered the combination and let the door crack open on its hinges.

“It’s just me,” Quincy said outside the door. “No need to unlock the safe.”

She looked through the fish-eye lens at her bestie’s handsome face, then relocked the safe before opening the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Date night.”

She looked down at her oversized nightshirt and the thick knit socks bunched around her ankles. She’d pulled her wet hair into a ponytail and applied a mask that was, thankfully, invisible to the naked eye, besides giving her an unnatural shine. “So soon?”

“No time like the present.” He lifted a box of wine.

“I had no idea boxed wine was a real thing,” she lied, opening the door wider.

“Yeah, it’s all I had.” He’d showered, too. The scent of soap and warm cologne filled the air as he walked inside. “I prefer the term cardboardeaux.”

“Okay, then,” she said, fighting a grin and questioning their decision. Was this really happening? With her best friend? With Quincy? After closing the door, it hit her. What was really going on. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You just want to get laid.”

He put the wine on her snack bar and turned back to her. “Well, yeah.”

Fair enough. “Yeah, me too.” Sun walked to her still-full glass of wine and downed it in five massive gulps before coming up for air.

The edges of his mouth slid into a humorous smile. “Nervous?”

She coughed then walked up to him, holding the glass out for more. He refilled it before pouring himself one, and they went to town on a boxed red with subtle hints of fruit. Like, really subtle.

“Is that prunes?” she asked, smacking her lips.

He shrugged and downed another glass, apparently as nervous as she was. And they had to get back to work in ten hours.

The wine hit her instantly. She walked to the sofa and sat down before it and the world got pulled out from under her.

He joined her there.

“We need to set some ground rules,” she said, a strong buzz already taking hold.

“Agreed. You come first.”

She choked on the sip she’d been in the middle of taking and decided a slower approach to the wine thing would be best for all involved. “What? No. Why? What about you?”

“Honey, don’t worry about me. I can come inside of three seconds.”

“It takes a big man to admit that.”

He sobered and studied her, before admitting, “You aren’t like the other women in my life.”

“Inflatable?”

“They had their reasons for being with me. I just … I want this to be good for you.” His statement was almost sad.

“Okay.” Possibly more aroused than she cared to admit after seeing Levi, she sat her wine down and attacked. It had been a long time. A very, very, very long time.

He lifted her onto his lap and she draped her arms over his wide shoulders before reality sank in. Kissing him was about as stimulating as kissing the back of her own hand. She turned her head, and said, “Oh, my God, wait.”

“Okay,” he said from behind a trail of kisses from her mouth to her ear.

It was enough to make her forget where she put her senses again. To throw caution to the wind. For the protest that had formed on the tip of her tongue to vanish.