“Of course,” Trip said. “Wait… you were talking to me, right?” He’d drunk enough to sound funny instead of sarcastic.
“Yes, you,” Wren laughed. Then she leaned over and gave him a kiss.
“Just for that, I’ll help clear the dishes.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but he was as good as his word. They collected the plates and silverware and headed into the clubhouse. Christy waited until the door closed behind them.
“Well,” she asked Brooke, “what do you think?”
“About what?”
“Oh my gosh, everything!”
Brooke sipped her wine and considered her answer. “I like the place. And the pool’s awesome.”
Christy compressed her lips.
“What do you want me to say?” Brooke protested. “Wren’s… nice enough, I guess.”
“Just… ‘nice’?”
“Oh, come on, Chris! I just met her! What’d you expect? Love at first sight? That doesn’t happen in real life.”
“It happened to me,” Christy said.
“Yeah, but you’re special.”
“Am not.”
Brooke gave her an exasperated look.
“Okay, fine, I’m special.”
“Mmm hmm.” Brooke paused and considered the original question. “I like Trip,” she said. “He’s cute. And funny. And he doesn’t talk to my chest. Happy?”
Christy nodded, mollified if not exactly thrilled.
“Besides, you know I’m really here for you.”
“I know. Only, I want you to like Wren.”
“I do,” Brooke insisted. “Just… not as much as you do.”
“I suppose.” Christy sighed and then adopted a smile as the clubhouse door opened.
Wren and Trip emerged with the cake and a bottle of port. We made small talk about the weather while she cut and served and he poured.
Dessert was delicious, of course, and Christy ate a second piece of cake as the rest of us relaxed in the warm glow of wine and good company.
Trip said something about baseball, and I rolled my eyes. Then Brooke made a comment about the San Diego Padres. That launched a serious conversation about games, statistics, and pennant races. Christy couldn’t follow the numbers, but at least she knew what they were talking about.
“You wanna go for a swim?” I asked Wren.
“Sure.”
We finished our port and stood. I gestured for her to go first and enjoyed the view of her ass as we walked around the pool. She looked over her shoulder to say something, but she caught me staring and laughed instead.
“Men.”
“Women,” I replied.
She rolled her eyes, and we descended the stairs into the sun-warmed water. She turned and backed away from me. Then she gathered her hair and held it up. I shamelessly enjoyed her breasts as they rose and held firm. She lowered her left arm, and her breast dropped back to its usual teardrop shape. The other stayed up, so I cocked my head to keep her nipples in line.
“See anything you like?” she said archly.
“Depends. Can I touch ’em?”
“Oh, brother.” She sank to her neck and sighed. “God, what a day. Thanks for all your help. With the risotto, but especially before.”
“It’s what I do.”
She snorted softly. “You have sex with unhappy women and make them happy?”
“Sort of,” I chuckled.
“You may be right. Christy’s always bragging about your ‘magic penis.’ So, it has therapeutic properties too?”
“You tell me.”
She rolled her eyes but then smiled. After a moment she looked over her shoulder. The others were far enough away that they weren’t likely to overhear, but she stood and waded toward me anyway. I reclined on the stairs, and she settled beside me. She rested her hand on my thigh, comfortable and intimate but not quite sexual.
“You weren’t really unhappy,” I said.
“Coulda fooled me.”
“You were worried. There’s a difference.”
“Semantics.” She shrugged and fell silent. “I like this,” she said eventually. “Like us. How we are now. I’m… really happy. Happy for me and Trip, but happy for you all too. Even Brooke. She’s… nicer than I thought. Quieter, too, but nice.”
“Everyone’s quiet compared to you and Christy.”
Wren glared but conceded with a guilty grin.
“Besides,” I added, “she’s still getting to know you.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t really care, one way or the other. But I hope she likes Trip.”
Up on the patio they were still talking baseball, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves.
“Signs point to yes,” I said with Magic Eight Ball clarity.
Wren gave me a sharp look. “You know what I mean. It isn’t fair if you can have sex with her but he can’t.”
“I don’t think that’ll happen,” I said. “But what if it does? What if she says no? It’s her body, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but if that’s the case, don’t even get us involved. I’m serious.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“Christy’s a special case,” Wren explained. “Trip didn’t have a choice with her. And he understands that things don’t always work out, but… I don’t want him to be disappointed again.”
“Why don’t you talk to her about it? Christy, I mean. Talk to her about Brooke.”
“She… has a way of exaggerating things, making them sound less serious than they really are. So I’m talking to you. I totally understand if Brooke doesn’t want to do anything. But you need to find out and let me know.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I think she wants to, but…” I shrugged. “She has a fantasy about three guys.”
Wren’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t comment otherwise.
“That’s how Christy convinced her to come.”
“Ah. I wondered. I mean, I remember how I felt when you told me you were a swinger, but I’m different. Most people aren’t like us. They’re like Trip. It takes ’em a while to get used to the idea.”
“Yeah, but Brooke’s more like us than you think. She and Christy…” I paused to decide how much I wanted to reveal. “Look at it this way,” I said at last, “Christy has a type.”
“Not really. I mean, you and Simon are nothing alike. Brooke and I couldn’t be more different.”
“Maybe on the outside. But on the inside…?”
“What do you mean?”
“She likes people who’re adventurous, sexually. All of her girlfriends and most of her boyfriends. Simon’s the only exception.”
“No kidding. He had a major stick up the butt about sex. I always thought he was a fag.”
I frowned but didn’t say anything.
“He was cute enough, in a loser sort of way, but… I never understood what she saw in him.”
“Safety. Predictability. An escape.”
“Whatever. But I think I see what you mean,” Wren said, “about sexually adventurous. You and I totally fit that description.”
“Brooke too. Trust me. So I think she’ll be fine. With Trip, for sure.”
“I hope you’re right,” Wren said.
“She wants to try swinging, but she’ll probably need some time to adjust.”
“That’s fine. As long as you understand… If she doesn’t want to have sex with Trip, you need to warn me first. Leah and Mark’ll be here soon enough. We can swing with them and Erin instead.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “I’ll talk to her. Privately. Like you said, Christy sometimes paints a rosier picture than actually exists.” Her luck had a lot to do with it, but I didn’t mention it.
“I do kinda like her, though,” Wren said. “I’m still jealous of her looks—God, and her tits!—but she seems like fun.”
“She is.”
“You’d know,” Wren agreed with a sly grin. She gazed across the pool before she faced me again and changed the subject. “Have you decided? When you’re going to do it? She knows it’s coming. Trip said he told you.”
I nodded.
“She’s been dropping little hints and trying to find out what I know. She even called her mom and tried to wheedle it out of her.”
I snorted.
“That’s what I said. She didn’t get anything. Her mom totally played dumb. It’s driving her crazy, trying to figure it out.” Wren laughed but then grew serious again. “Do you want some advice?”