Chapter 25 Ginger #2
Wren chokes on her wine and Finn snorts.
“Speaking of Hayes dick,” Finn says casually, “you and Hutch looked pretty cozy getting out of that van. Anything you’d like to tell us?”
The swallow of beer I took betrays me and goes down my windpipe. While I cough and sputter, Wren cuts a sly look at Finn.
“You know, you’re right. I was thinking the same thing. Especially after she went back out to get those missing AirPods,” Wren says using air quotes, “and came back empty-handed.”
Both women turn conspiratorial looks my way.
“Oh fuck off, both of you,” I say once I’ve recovered the ability to speak without wheezing.
Wren nudges me with a knowing look and Finn smiles, absently running a hand over her tummy. “See, that reaction is exactly what I’m talking about.”
Finn shrugs, a sassy tip to her lips. “I mean, you guys were the best man and maid of honor at Hank and Wren’s wedding. And you know what they say about that.”
“And he annoys the shit out of her,” Wren adds, the two of them tittering at each other like gossipy little bobble heads. “Constantly sniping at each other? I mean, it’s almost like foreplay.”
“Exactly,” Finn says with a solemn nod and then winks at Wren. “Like me and Huddy. Maybe she secretly likes him.”
It’s my turn to snort. “His dick, maybe.”
“I knew it!” Finn blurts, slapping Wren’s leg triumphantly and Wren gasps.
Goddamn it. Sneaky bitches.
“So you do like him,” Wren states.
“Like him?” I blurt. “We literally can’t be in the same room without arguing.”
The minute they’re out of my mouth, those words ring hollow in light of everything we shared over the last few days. Guilt licks at my gut, but I force the feeling away.
Finn hums, continuing as if I’m not there. “Except you know what? It’s always Ginger arguing with Hutch, not the other way around,” Finn says as if that somehow further proves them right.
Which, I guess, it kind of does. I used to think Hutch was vapid and shallow and sure, he never fails to give me shit.
Hell, the first time we met, he didn’t even look me in the eyes until after he checked out my tits.
Which, in retrospect, I didn’t hate, but still.
The man both irritates and turns me on. But he’s also incredibly kind and supportive, especially for someone I couldn’t stand mere days ago.
It’s ridiculous. I’m feeling some kind of way about all of it, but I haven’t had a chance to unpack any of it.
“So bestie,” Wren says, turning abruptly back to me, “spill it. Give us all the details.”
It’s right on the tip of my tongue to deny everything, but what’s the point?
I purse my lips and shift on the couch. “Look, the guy’s annoying and cocky as hell, but he’s hot. It’s not my fault, I want to kick his ass and suck him off all at the same time,” I say only a little defensively.
Finn laughs and Wren gasps. “Sounds exactly like me and Hudson.”
I roll my eyes and try my best to look unaffected.
“Well, did you?” Wren prompts, and they stare at me like I’ve got secrets to spill.
“Did I what?” I ask, studying my nails like I’ve got zero idea what she’s talking about.
”You know,” Finn chirps, then mimes a chaotic blow job that has me cackling against my better judgment.
“If you’re not going to tell us, we’ll have to use our very active imaginations,” Wren singsongs.
“Okay, yes. I hooked up with him,” I huff out. “It’s not like it’s happening again.”
“Why not? You need to put yourself out there and it wouldn’t kill you to have a little fun.”
“And by fun, she means Hutch,” Finn adds, waggling her brows at me.
“And if he’s anything like his older brother, he’ll have zero trouble with navigation, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh my God, you did not just say that,” I snort, and she laughs.
If only she knew that I was already well acquainted with his navigation skills. And she’s not wrong.
“Wait,” Finn laughs, “navigation?”
I toss back the rest of my beer, and a little bit dribbles out when I mumble, “To find my clit.”
Finn cackles, then sighs. “God, I’m so horny right now.”
Wren snickers.
“Listen, I know the power of good dick, babe. And you need some. Hutch is the perfect person for the job, too, because he doesn’t do relationships and you’re not looking for one. Unless I’m wrong?”
“No, you’re not wrong.”
I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to a relationship if it happened, but I’ve got so much on my plate that it’s not a true priority right now.
“Well, there you go. Seriously, why are you even questioning this?” Finn offers, throwing up a hand.
Wren gasps as if she’s thought of something, making me jump. “Three best friends sleeping with three brothers! What if we all became sisters?”
I choke on another swallow of beer. “Uh-uh.” I shake my head, knowing Wren will run with some romanticized version of what didn’t happen—time to shut this shit down.
Especially given the fact that I told him not to tell anyone.
If it gets back to him that I told Finn and Wren, he’ll never let me live it down.
“First, I didn’t sleep with him. We…fucked around a bit.” I shrug. “And second, no one is talking about marriage. Jesus Christ, the man lives in his van, Wrenley.” I try to cringe at the thought of his old ass VW Vanagon, but something in my chest protests. Just a smidge.
Finn tips her head, pointing her water bottle at me to acknowledge my point. “Not to mention Hutch is allergic to relationships. Hudson says he never even hooks up with the same chick twice.”
I pause, my beer bottle halfway to my mouth.
Wait. What?
Suddenly, all I can hear is the rush of blood in my ears, and my eyes narrow a little, unfocused and dry.
There’s no way that’s true.
We hooked up twice: once last year and once at Hank and Wren’s wedding six months ago. We literally came together twice in the last two days.
Four. Times.
Granted, none of it was penetrative sex, but last time I checked, four times was still four times.
My heart hammers in my chest. I think Wren is asking me something, but I can’t focus.
Why does the thought of being Hutch’s only repeat make me…
uncomfortable? Maybe a little smug? That unsettled feeling increases.
If it’s true that Hutch has never hooked up with the same woman twice, what does it mean if I’m the exception to his rule?
“Can we change the subject now?” I ask, my brain feeling like it’s coming back online.
Either Wren can sense my discomfort, or she’s letting me off the hook because she nods, and Finn follows suit.
We move on to safer topics, like how Finn is decorating the nursery and how Wren is trying to decide if she wants to go back to work part-time with the town veterinary clinic or if she wants to get back into something with horses.
It’s still early, but not long before we’re all yawning and saying our goodnights. Wren and Finn leave with promises to get together soon, and then they’re off, and I’m locking the door behind them.
It’s been a long day, and I want nothing more than a hot shower and to sleep. But as I climb the stairs to the second floor, my mind goes back to our conversation. Even Hutch’s brothers know he doesn’t sleep with the same woman more than once.
So why me? Why now?
As I run the shower and strip out of my clothes, I catch sight of myself in the mirror. No makeup, just freckles and corkscrew hair. A satisfied sort of cautious pleasure bubbles up out of me, and I clasp my hand over my mouth, determined to bite it back.
It’s nothing. Right? He’s not looking and I’m not looking.
It’s purely physical attraction, and there is nothing wrong with that.
We’re nothing more than two people coming together—multiple times—because of the forced proximity of it all.
I bet if I had flown into Timber Forge like I originally planned, I wouldn’t see him while I was here. Right?
Right?
Even as I try to fit the pieces together, the image of that giant man above me flashes in my mind, and that unsettled, disorienting affection for him settles into my gut.
Because the truth is, I can joke with Wren and Finn all day long, but knowing I may be the only repeat for the man with a six-month starring role in my nightly masturbation fantasies? I can’t honestly say the news doesn’t have me curious.