“I can sympathize with that,” Shawn said. “Before Rhett I was on a dry spell that had the trees begging the dogs to lift a leg. When you least expect it, you’ll meet someone.”
“I doubt it,” Harley said. Then she smiled, “But this is your night anyway. Though I have to admit, I’m having trouble keeping track of Rhett and Nolan’s sisters. There’s just so many of them, and their names all seem to end in ‘y.’”
“Tell me about it,” Shawn agreed. Five of Rhett’s sisters had come and were at the bar ordering drinks. “They all look similar, too, and the only one with a stand-out name, Rachel, is the one who lives in California. The rebel.”
Eve snorted. “Yeah, she’s so rebellious that she works as a CPA.”
“You know, to people like Sandy and Nolan Senior, and my grandparents, and your parents, leaving the Carolinas is akin to seceding from the South. Unless you move to Georgia.”
“Then they just think you’re being stubborn.” Eve grinned.
Danny, Sammy, Andy, Melissa, and Dawn, the Ford sisters, came back to the table, various drinks in hand.
“It’s too bad Jeannie couldn’t make it,” Andy said. “But Asher was projectile vomiting.” Given the way she was swaying her hips to the music and grinning, the sympathy seemed more like relief that it wasn’t her stuck at home with a sweaty kid.
“So tell us gossip about Rhett as a kid,” Eve said. “So we can shame him tomorrow.”
Danny laughed. “He was spoiled, I can tell you that. Dad wanted another son, which is why half of us girls have male nicknames. I don’t think Mom cared one way or the other, but there is no question he was her baby. And ours. We used to put him in our old dresses.”
The image of Rhett dolled up made Shawn snort. “That must have been a sight to behold. He’s so . . . masculine.” Immediately, she felt the heat in her cheeks. That didn’t sound right. It sounded very smitten and girly. Yikes.
Melissa rolled her eyes, lifting her drink, which looked an awful lot like straight bourbon. “He wasn’t born six two with rock-solid biceps, you know. He was a scrawny enough little kid. With a freakish ability to never blink. For a while we were sure he was Damian from The Omen reincarnated. Mom was a little pissed about that when we started calling him JB, for Jackal Baby.”
Eve laughed. “That sounds like something I would have done. I love it.”
“Would have done?” Shawn asked. “Hell, you still would.”
“True.”
Danny set down her drink and stripped off her hoodie. “Okay, I never get out of the house. Ever. I am going to dance. I may be too old for this shit, and I may be happily married, but sometimes a woman still needs to shake what the good Lord gave her.”
“Charity is already out there. She’s the one surrounded by a cloud of White Diamonds. She thinks wearing an Elizabeth Taylor scent will attract older men with money.”
All the sisters went out to the dance floor. They didn’t try to drag Eve, obviously knowing their sister-in-law well enough to realize she couldn’t be dragged anywhere, not even out of a burning fire if she had decided she wanted to stay and get a tan. Harley was no match for them, though. One tug, and they had her. Shawn bailed by saying she wanted to talk to Eve. Which she did, so it wasn’t a total lie.
“Do you really want to talk to me?” Eve asked, shifting her chair closer to Shawn’s to be heard over the music. “Or were you just trying to get out of dancing?”
“I wanted to ask you something.” It was a weird thing to ask, but hell, Shawn was curious. She’d never been married before. “How often do you and Nolan have sex?”
Eve spit out the beer she’d been sipping and choked. “Goddammit, Shawn! Will you f**king warn me if you’re going to ask something like that? I almost drowned from my Heineken.”
“Sorry. But I am serious. Like, what is normal when you’re married?”
“Well.” Eve wiped her mouth with a cocktail napkin and then rubbed it down the front of her tight shirt. “I would say on average, it’s three times a week. It would probably be more like four or five if our schedules didn’t keep us apart. Why? Is Rhett falling asleep watching TV instead of banging you? He’s only twenty-five, for crying out loud.”
Shawn coughed. “No. Um, it’s kind of the opposite. We’ve had sex every day for the last ten days. I was just wondering if, you know, that’s normal. And if, maybe at some point, it’s going to slow down.”
Eve’s jaw dropped. “Ten days in a row? Are you serious?”
Shawn nodded.
“Are they quickies, or are they like actual sexual events?”
Oh, they were not quickies. “Actual events. Usually at least an hour, most closer to two.” And every day had been a little more freeing, a little more arousing, a little more all-encompassing. She’d never been so in tune with her body, never had so many orgasms in such a short span of time. It was amazing and wonderful and, frankly, scary as hell.
“Holy crap. I think I need to have a word with my husband.” Eve laughed. “Though, honestly, at some point I think that would just be overkill for me. Nolan and I have a rocking sex life and that would just cut into my sleep schedule. So, how do you feel about it? Is it boring or something? Is that why you’re asking?”
That most definitely was not the problem. “No, it’s not boring at all. I love it. It makes all the sex I’ve had before look like child’s play. I was just wondering if at some point we’re going to have a sexual crash, and then it will be nothing. Or if I might be doing harm, you know, like wrecking my vagina or something. I would think it needs a break at some point.”
“It’s not a Walmart worker. It doesn’t need an hour for lunch.” Eve made a face at her.
“I know.” Shawn laughed. “It just seems like it can’t be good for it.”
“Well, ask it. Like ‘Hey, vag, how are you feeling today?’ If it feels beat up, tell Rhett to give it a rest for twenty-four. Otherwise, I think you’re good. I mean, isn’t that what it was designed for?”
“True.” Sucking down her Guinness, she shook her head. “Who would have thought I would be worried about getting laid too frequently? Sam and I had sex once every two weeks.”
“That’s because he was banging random chicks the other thirteen days.”