Ride or Dye (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #6)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “It’s no problem,” I said. “I’m sure we’ll have ample opportunities to resume our conversation.”

  “Indeed,” George said, rising to his feet. “Until we meet again.” He saluted us with his glass.

  We didn’t say anything until they disappeared up the steps and were out of sight. I turned to my husband and said, “Professor?”

  “It was the first thing that came to mind,” he replied with a shrug. “I mean, you did teach me how to love.”

  “That’s so fucking sweet,” I said. “We need to go up to our room.”

  Josh waggled his brows. “You want to teach me a new trick?”

  “Always, but I was thinking more like we need to strategize. Get our stories straight.”

  “Is this a clothing-optional meeting?”

  “Does my dick wake up happy to see you?” I countered.

  When we returned to the dining room for dinner, we saw that George and Georgia were already there and were joined by another couple. Where I placed the Howards to be in their mid-fifties to early sixties, the newcomers looked to be in their early thirties. They were both blond-haired and blue-eyed, and their body language told me they hadn’t just met the Howards.

  George glanced up and suddenly stopped speaking when he saw us. He gestured for Josh and me to join them, so I placed my hand on Josh’s lower back and guided him to their table. “Good evening,” I said, hoping I sounded professor-ish.

  “Good evening,” George replied. I had to hand it to him. Georgia’s veneer had cracked, but his hadn’t. Yet. George looked to his guests and said, “This is the couple I told you about. They’re also here to have a little fun.”

  “Is that so,” the young lady said, looking me up and down like I was a snack. “This looks to be a very fun weekend.”

  I moved my hand from Josh’s lower back and placed it on his neck when I felt him tense. He hadn’t missed her boldness either, but he relaxed beneath the gentle squeeze I gave him. I wasn’t going anywhere, and he damn well knew it. “I’m Gabe, and this is my husband, Josh.”

  “I’m Henry, and this is my sister, Petal,” the younger guy said. “Why don’t you have a seat and join us. We haven’t ordered our meals yet.”

  “Of course,” Josh said, pulling out the chair in front of him. “We’d love to join you.”

  The waiter rushed over and dropped off menus for Josh and me then took our drink orders. I wanted a clear head to keep score, but I also thought a drink might help me relax a bit. I ordered a Scotch, neat, while Josh ordered some fussy drink I’d never heard of. I knew we’d rib each other over the drink choices as soon as we were alone again. I rarely drank hard liquor because beer was my choice of alcohol. I just thought Scotch sounded professor-y.

  “George and Georgia told us a little about you, but I’m dying to hear more,” Petal purred. Of course, she only aimed that remark in my direction.

  Josh and I decided our best strategy for not slipping up was to keep our story as close to nonfiction as possible. We agreed that our jobs were the only lie we were willing to tell. “Josh and I still consider ourselves newlyweds because we’re a few months shy of our two-year anniversary. We have adorable twins, a son and a daughter, and we’re making plans to extend our family even more next year.”

  “Which one of you carries the babies?” Henry asked then laughed like his joke was funny.

  “They use surrogates or adopt children,” Georgia answered, sounding appalled by the question. She offered me a smile, and it appeared to be the first genuine reaction I got from her. Maybe she wasn’t so bad.

  “I know,” Henry guffawed. “I’m not that ignorant.” That was debatable. “My apologies, gentlemen. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “I assure you we’ve heard worse,” Josh said while casually perusing the menu. Of course, I had my hand on his thigh beneath the table and felt how tense his body was. “Since you’ve all been here before, what do you recommend from the menu?”

  Each of them told us their favorite entrée, side dish, and appetizer which allowed us time to see how they interacted with one another. The more they talked, the more it became obvious they knew each other very well. Georgia reminded Petal that she had loved the herb-encrusted asparagus ever since it was added to the menu, and Henry chose George’s answer for him when he couldn’t decide between the blackened sea bass and pan-seared, aged prime rib.

  “It’s always the prime rib,” Henry said affectionately.

  Josh slid his hand along my thigh, letting me know he was picking up on all the clues as well. If he went much higher, my focus would be diverted south. God, I couldn’t get enough of the man sitting beside me.

  “Pardon me for saying this, but the four of you seem well-acquainted,” Josh said. “Have you all been coming to this murder mystery event for several years, or are you friends?”

  “I wouldn’t say we’re friends.” Georgia sounded like the idea was offensive. She offered a chilly smile to Petal who looked upset. “We are acquainted with one another.”

  “George, our conversation was interrupted before you could share with us what you do for a living,” I told him.

  “Ah yes,” the older man said, sitting taller in his chair. “I’m an investment banker.”

  He didn’t say with what firm which made me doubt him even more. I’ve been around that type plenty of types and the words “investment banker” are always followed up by the firm they represent. How else are they going to grow business? “Are you from South Carolina?”

  Georgia and Petal both snorted like the idea was ludicrous. They upped their snobbishness to a new level. Perhaps that part wasn’t an act. “Hardly, love,” Petal said to me. “We’re all from Atlanta.”

  “I’ve been to Atlanta a few times,” Josh said. He had? “I’ve won some competitions there.”

  “What kind of competitions?” Petal asked, looking at my husband for the first time since we arrived.

  “Dance,” Josh replied.

  “Talent show competitions?” Henry asked.

  Josh, the comedian that he was, waited for Henry to take a drink of his wine before answering. “Pole dancing.”

  Henry didn’t choke, but his eyes widened, and he licked his lips while studying the parts of my husband he could see. “You do look flexible and maybe another word that starts with F and ends with b-l-e.” Josh dug his nails into my jeans. Why? Had I growled? I was prone to do so when someone looked at my husband the way Henry was.

  “Gabe thinks so,” Josh said.

  “Do you still dance?” Petal asked, tipping her head to the side like she was genuinely curious.

  “Only privately,” my husband replied, leaning into me so that his head was against my shoulder.

  “You can’t have time for that with two kids,” Henry said. “I’m sure your marriage has gone stale even if you haven’t been married long.”

  “On the contrary,” Josh said, looking up at me. “You find time for the things that are important to you. Quality time alone with my guy is at the top of the list. I refuse to believe I have to choose between our children and Gabe. I save energy and time for him.”

  Henry held up his wine glass as if he was toasting me. “You’re a lucky man, Gabe.”

  “That I am, Henry.”

  “So, George is an investment banker,” Josh said. “What about you, Georgia. Do you work outside the home?”

  George snorted, earning a bitter glare from his wife. “I am on the board for many charities to raise money for important causes. That keeps me very busy.”

  “Maybe you can have a chat with Josh on how to juggle things so you have time for your husband?” George suggested.

  “Dear, this sort of conversation is beneath our station in life,” Georgia reprimanded him.

  “Dear,” George mocked, “I wasn’t talking about your dislike of performing blow jobs. I was merely stating that it would be nice if you could find time doing something other than spending my money or finding excuses to get dr
unk in the middle of the afternoon. But since we’re on the topic, perhaps you could make more time to suck my dick instead of your personal trainer’s.”

  Georgia gasped loudly and stood up so fast her chair fell backward. “You son of a bitch,” she snarled before leaving the room with her head held high and shoulders squared. I had no idea if any of what we witnessed was true, but the woman was in incredible shape, so I suspected that she at least employed a personal trainer.

  “Actually, George,” Petal said. I bit my lip to keep from smiling when she emphasized his fake name. “Her personal trainer is a woman.” Petal stood up and exited the room without saying another word to any of us.

  I glanced up at Henry, who watched her walk away. The way he stared at her ass wasn’t the way a brother stared at his sister. He must’ve felt my scrutiny because he snapped his head in my direction. I didn’t verbally remark on what I witnessed; I just raised an eyebrow. His reply was a quick shrug and a crooked smile before he chugged the rest of his wine.

  “Well, hell,” George drawled slowly. “The least she could do is let me watch.”

  Henry clapped him on the back then laughed. “I’m going to get drunk. Who is with me?”

  Josh and I looked at each other and shrugged. It had been a long time since either of us drank enough to be considered more than warm and fuzzy. I thought to myself, why the hell not?

  Of course, the next morning when I was hugging the toilet bowl, I remembered all the reasons why I didn’t get drunk anymore.

  “Here, baby,” Josh softly said as he pressed a cold washcloth against my forehead. “Do you think you’re done vomiting?”

  I thought I was, but then again, I’d thought the same thing before the second round of puking. I tried to nod, but it felt like someone drove an ax through my head. “Why aren’t you hungover?” Fuck, my voice sounded like I’d just smoked two cartons of cigarettes and gargled with battery acid.

  “Because one of us needed to get the skinny on our competition.”

  “I’m married to an evil genius,” I said proudly.

  “An evil genius who knows a few tricks to make your hangover go away fast so we can continue with the second phase of my plan.”

  “Second phase?” I asked.

  “It involves fake fights and fake makeup sex. Well, the sex will be real but not the purpose behind it.”

  “I’m in.”

  “I DON’T REMEMBER A whole lot about last night,” Gabe said sluggishly. “I didn’t give too much away, did I?”

  “I protected your virtue, Captain Morgan.” Gabe groaned and pressed his forehead against his forearms which were folded over the toilet seat.

  “I wasn’t asking if I fucked somebody else, Sunshine. I was referring to our true identities.”

  “Oh, that,” I said casually. “Nah, you stayed in your role well. Of course, Henry and George were far more hammered than you were, so it’s not likely they’d remember.”

  “What about the ladies, Georgia and Petunia?”

  I shouldn’t have laughed at my husband when he was so obviously miserable, but I couldn’t help it. “Her name is Petal, not Petunia. And no; they never returned downstairs.”

  “You clearly stayed sober, so did you learn anything juicy?”

  “Does your dick wake up happy to see me when you’re not hungover?”

  Gabe reached down and cupped his junk. “Still happy to see you. I hope you won’t be upset if I ignore him for now. I think my head might explode if we have sex.”

  “It’s normally the objective,” I teased. Gabe moaned, and I decided to cut him some slack. “Okay, you’re referring to the one on your shoulders. Let me help you.” I poured water into the glass I brought into the bathroom with me then added a packet of Theraflu. I mixed the concoction with my fingers since I didn’t have a spoon handy and grabbed the ibuprofen I set out for Gabe.

  Gabe slowly raised his head and looked at me when I lowered myself beside him on the floor. “What’s that?”

  “Remedies. Don’t question me.”

  I could tell he wanted to probe deeper into my offerings but didn’t when he saw the look on my face. Gabe popped four ibuprofen tablets into his mouth and washed it down with the Theraflu. “Fuck! What did I just drink? Skunk piss?”

  “Quit being so dramatic,” I told him. “It was only Theraflu.”

  “I don’t have the flu,” Gabe protested.

  “You have an upset stomach and body aches, right?” Gabe’s whimper was answer enough. “Give it time to hit your system. Do you think you’re well enough to lie in bed and let me massage your head?” Gabe lifted a brow. “The one on your shoulders that is about to explode.”

  “I can try.”

  He moved like he was eighty-five years old but eventually got comfortable resting on the pillow I placed on my lap. I started off massaging his temples in slow, gentle circles. “Would you like to hear what I learned about the two couples we’ve met so far?”

  “Did Henry and George get all loose-lipped after they got deep into their cups?”

  “It wasn’t what they said, but how they acted toward each other, and what I witnessed when I helped them to their rooms.”

  Gabe lifted his head up. “Helped them to their rooms? Where the hell was I?” Gabe’s handsome features scrunched up into an angry scowl. “Wait. I think I remember us singing ‘I Will Survive’ on our way up in the elevator.”

  “You sure did,” I agreed. “There was no way in hell I would risk any of you walking up the steps in your condition.”

  “You dropped me off at our room first.”

  “Yes, then I helped George and Henry to their rooms which are located beside one another with a connecting door granting them access to one another’s rooms.”

  “Huh,” Gabe said. “How do you know that?”

  “I knocked on the door to the room George said was his, and Petal answered wearing a sheer negligee.”

  “The fuck you say.”

  “I don’t think there was much fucking going on last night unless you count Petal and Georgia’s romp before we came upstairs.”

  “Get out of here.”

  “Georgia was also in the room just as scantily clad. Petal stood back from the door, and I could see the connecting door between the rooms was open. Henry staggered into the room and said, ‘Looks like the party is here tonight, Georgie Boy.’ I kid you not, Gabe, he sniffed the air and yelled, ‘I smell sex! You started the party without us. Again.’ George stumbled into the room but didn’t get far before he grabbed a big handful of Petal’s breast. I worried he was going to pull her top down and expose her to my innocent eyes.”

  “What did the women say?” Gabe asked.

  “Georgia put her hands on her hips and said, ‘You two assholes expect us to wait up here and knit blankets while you’re down there getting drunk?’ And then Petal kissed George softly on the lips and removed his hand from her breast before she said, ‘Tomorrow is a new day.’ I knew something was up between the two couples, but I never would’ve guessed they were swingers?”

  “Swingers? Like dancers?”

  “Not swing dancers, Gabe. Swingers! Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said? The two couples swap.”

  Gabe blinked a few seconds. “So, Georgia hooks up with Henry, and Petal hooks up with George.” A few more blinks while he tried to work things out in his head. “Petal also hooks up with Georgia.”

  “Yes, and George and Henry appeared to be quite intimate as well. I saw lingering glances, and Henry squeezed George’s thigh in a very familiar way.”

  “Wow,” Gabe said. “I mean, I’ve heard of couples switching up or adding thirds, but I’ve never come across it in real life. It feels like we’ve landed in one of Chaz’s books.”

  “I’ve already messaged him and planted the seed in his brain. Anyway, I couldn’t get either man to confirm how long they’ve known each other. I did get Henry to admit he and Petal aren’t brother and sister. George confessed it was j
ust part of the roles they’ve chosen for the vacation. I do think they’re as wealthy as they appear. George’s boxers cost at least a hundred bucks a pair.”

  “Whoa! How the hell do you know that?” Gabe sat up too fast and gripped his head and stomach when his pain intensified.

  “The drunken fool started pulling off his clothes before I could get the damn door shut. I tell you, I don’t think they care who knows they’re fucking each other. To be honest, I think they would’ve gone at it with me standing there.”

  “Pack your shit; we’re going home,” Gabe groused. I thought his surly mood was adorable.

  “Don’t be silly, Gabe. Their romantic activities don’t impact our lives one bit. How would you feel if guests refused to stay here because they didn’t want to sleep under the same roof as gay men?”

  “That’s different,” Gabe argued. “We’re not shoving our sexy time in their faces. We’ve…”

  His words trailed off when he realized anyone walking on the beach could’ve surmised we were making love on top of the lighthouse even if the concrete wall blocked them from actually seeing Gabe penetrate me. There was also the time we made love on our balcony in the rain. The wooden rail slats were close together, but I’m sure someone driving up in front of the house could’ve had an eyeful if they looked close enough. We weren’t exactly discreet either.

  “Okay, we’re not leaving,” Gabe said. “This better not be a fucking swinger’s convention or some shit. I don’t want to be fighting people off you for the duration of our stay.”

  “Nor I you, so we’ll play it by ear. Let’s agree to leave if things do get out of control or we feel uncomfortable.”

  “Agreed,” Gabe said. He lay back down so I could massage his temples some more before I slid my fingers in his silky strands of hair and rubbed his scalp. “Your remedies are working wonders on my body,” he told me about fifteen minutes later. “In fact, there’s only one thing hurting me now.”