Southern Comfort - Fern Michaels [48]
Two heads leaned over the banister. “Just us,” a voice called out. “Come on up and have a glass of lemonade?”
Sandy looked at Kate and wiggled her eyebrows. A hissing whispering was going on. It was obvious that one of the two wanted company and the other one didn’t. Before they could change their minds, Sandy started up the sturdy-looking steps that led to the small front porch. Kate was right behind her.
The parrot was going ballistic, screaming about purple panties and bacon and squawking, “Intruder! Intruder! Bang you’re dead! Get the girls! Sandy’s hot! Real hot!”
“Sandra Martin,” Sandy said, holding out her hand. “The bird is right, I am hot. I mean, I’m . . . you know, warm from the heat. This is my friend, Kate Rush. We’re hanging out down the beach. We came to invite you to a weenie roast, but we also have some steaks and some pretty good wine.”
“Pete Kelly. This is my brother Patrick. Just call him Tick. And this noisy creature is Bird.”
“Sandy is hot! Bang!”
“Just ignore Bird; he has no social skills,” Tick said as he gave the two women the once-over. He liked what he was seeing and relaxed a little. “How about some lemonade or a cold beer?”
“That would be nice, but no thanks. We have to get back. You know, to prepare and all,” Kate said, knowing full well her face was probably beet red. “Interesting house you have here. Did you do the work yourself?” she asked, not caring one way or the other what his answer was going to be.
“Actually,” Pete said, “we worked on it together. Would you like a tour?”
“Yes,” Sandy said.
“Not right now,” Kate said.
“Maybe some other time when you have nothing to do,” Tick said coolly.
Kate nodded, turned, and started to walk down the steps, Sandy in her wake.
Sandy turned around when she got to the bottom of the steps and called over her shoulder, “So is it a yes or a no?”
Pete leaned so far over the banister, Tick had to reach out to grab his shirt. “We’ll be there. What time?”
“When the sun goes down. You’ll see the smoke. Feel free to bring the bird,” Sandy shouted.
When they were out of earshot, Kate grumbled, “You had to do that, didn’t you?”
“What? What?”
“We said in and out, offer the invitation, and what do you do? You say, yes, you want a tour. No, we did not want a tour. A tour would make us look nosy. Don’t you get it, Sandy?”
“Yeah, I get it. You were uncomfortable around the cop, and I saw he was just as uncomfortable. He was really looking at you, Kate.”
“Oh yeah, well guess who else is looking at us? Don’t look now, but our buddy on the Sooner or Later is watching us. Just keep walking, and act like we paid a social visit to those guys. And, according to you, that’s what we just did. I bet five bucks that guy stays out there until it gets dark. Or if he sees us building a fire, he might call it a day.”
“Okay, okay. What did you think of those guys? I think Pete looks real interesting. I’m also thinking he just might be my type.”
“Well, Sandy, I got so hot and bothered with the one called Tick, I just had to get out of there before I decided to jump his bones because I just can’t help myself sometimes.”
“Well, damn, girl, you sure are full of surprises!” Sandy said in awe.
Kate blinked. “And you believe me?” She gave her friend such a shove that she fell to the sand, at which point Sandy reached out for Kate’s ankle and toppled her into the sand.
Back in the stilt house, Tick and Pete watched the two women tussling on the sand.
“I’ve never seen a catfight before,” Pete hissed.
“Yeah, Pete, when two women do what those two are doing, it’s a diversion. Probably for our benefit or for the benefit of that guy sitting out there in that boat. Didn’t anyone ever tell you women are devious? And sly? Not to mention manipulative, as well as ornery and sneaky.”
“For someone who’s been living like a hermit for the past eight or so years and who was married to a saint, one has to wonder how you know so much about