Hope just grinned. “We call it the sex swing because that’s what Bell called it when we brought it home. She said Lucas was conceived on one that looked just like it.” Her eyes sparkled as she laughed again. “It’s just a regular porch swing that we put out back, but now it’s the sex swing.”
“Hmm, maybe Owen and I need one of those,” Grace said.
“Why? Are you planning on getting knocked up?” Hope teased.
Grace jerked back and then blinked at her friend. “Bite your tongue.”
Hope snickered, and the rest of them joined in the teasing.
Gigi took a long sip of her wine and smiled to herself. This was what she loved about her new circle of friends. They were always at the ready to help in any situation, and no matter how awful it was, they always found a way to make her smile. Despite her trepidation about talking to Sebastian, she knew that whatever new information she gained, she’d be just fine with the three other witches by her side.
Chapter Four
Eleven in the morning wasn’t too early for wine, was it? Gigi stood on her patio and stared out at the churning Pacific Ocean with a glass of Chardonnay in her hand, trying to work up her courage to call Sebastian. Back at the cliff with her coven mates, she’d been convinced she could do this. But in the light of day, she was certain the lump in her throat would choke her and she’d end up sounding like a dying chicken.
“Just do it, Gigi,” she scolded herself. What was the worst he could do? Say no? She shook her head, knowing the worst thing he could do was say yes. Then she’d have to face him. But dammit, she wasn’t a coward, and she deserved answers. The fire in her gut flared to life, and before she could lose her nerve, she pulled out her iPhone and called him.
“Gigi,” he said into the phone, his husky voice sounding slightly raspy as if he’d just woken up or he had a slight cold. It was sexy as hell and pissed her off immediately. He had no business piquing her interest like that. Not when he had information about her mother that he hadn’t bothered to share. “It’s nice to hear from you.”
“Sebastian.” She cringed when she heard her icy tone. That wasn’t the way to convince a man to come to her impromptu party.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Dammit, why did he sound so concerned? She was pissed at him and didn’t care for the way he was already chipping away at her resolve.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Sorry about that. Just before you answered, I stubbed my toe pretty hard on the coffee table leg. I was trying not to let out a string of expletives.”
“Oh, ouch,” he said sympathetically. “Need me to come over and take care of it? I’m good with my hands.” He sounded flirty now, making her grit her teeth.
“I’ll be fine.” Goodness, she was acting like an idiot. It was time to get it together. “But how about Friday night? I’m having an informal cocktail party of sorts and thought you might like to join us. Hope, Grace, and Joy along with their dates.”
“Are you asking me to be your date, Gigi?” he asked, a smile in his voice.
“Um, no?” she stammered.
“It sounds like you’re asking me to be your date. Is anyone else going to be there?”
“Skyler and his husband.”
“Right. So it’s a date. What time?” he asked, sounding pleased with himself.
She wanted to scream into the phone that he was delusional and that she’d never date him. Not now. Not after what she’d learned. But if she did that, she’d never find out what he knew. Even though it went against every fiber of her being to not shut him down, she forced herself to say, “Seven on Friday.”
“Great. What should I bring?”
“Just yourself.” And a truck load of secrets and honesty, she thought.
“Okay. See you then. And, Gigi?”
“Yeah?” she said warily.
“Thanks for the invite. I’m looking forward to it.” The line went dead, and Gigi stood there staring at her phone for a long moment.
Her back door opened, surprising her, and she let out a small gasp as the phone flew out of her hand.
“Sorry!” Skyler called as he stepped out onto the patio. “I thought you heard me. I knocked on your screen door, but when you didn’t answer, I let myself in. Good thing, too, cause it looks like I’d still be waiting for you out there.”
“It’s fine. I was just on a call.” They were close enough friends that Skyler regularly walked in if the door was unlocked. Gigi focused on him, taking in his ripped jeans and old, faded George Michael T-shirt. She frowned at him. “What the hell are you wearing? And where are you wearing it to? A secret rave in an abandoned warehouse downtown?”
Skyler chuckled as he swept past her and leaned against the railing, the slight breeze ruffling his hair. “No, but that sounds promising. Got any E we can take with us?”
“Sure. Let me just dig it out of my breath mint tin,” she said, rolling her eyes. But she couldn’t help the smile that claimed her lips. Skyler was the one person who always lifted her mood within seconds of being in the same room with him. “You know, it’s too bad you’re gay. You’d make a great life partner.”
His face flushed instantly.
“Oh. Em. Gee. Are you blushing? This is a first. I’ve never seen you blush before,” she said, grinning at him.
“Stop,” he said, waving an impatient hand. “We both know you’d bail on me after forty-eight hours. You’d probably OD on the Real Housewives franchise and threaten to choke me with a spoon or something.”
He was right. She would have to strangle him if he made her watch too much reality television. “I’d be okay with marathons of Project Runway, though.”
“And thank the gods for that. I’d have to find a new bestie if you weren’t up for hours of Tim Gunn.” He winked at her. “Now, tell me why you were looking like you were ready to murder someone when I found you staring out at the ocean.”
“Sebastian. I’d just got done inviting him to the cocktail party I’m having Friday night. He thinks it’s a date, but really I just want to get information out of him.”
“Cocktail party? What? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?” he demanded with his hands on his hips.
“Because I just decided to have it last night, and I was going to call you next. Do you think you and Pete can come?”
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “Well, I don’t know. It’s so last minute. I’ll have to check my calendar.”
“Don’t make me hurt you,” Gigi said, already knowing they didn’t have other plans because Skyler had been complaining about the lack of events in his appointment book the last time they chatted.
Skyler pulled his phone out, sent a text, and then returned it to his back pocket. “Fine. We’re in if Pete’s up for it. Need me to bring anything?”
“Your fabulous charcuterie board? With candied almonds and ginger slices?” she asked hopefully.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” he said, shaking his head even as he grinned at her.