You’re Rosie here. As long as you don’t do anything to get on the evening news, you’re free to do whatever you want. She grinned. “The R-rated version.”

Chapter Nine

“We don’t really have night clubs in St. Christophe.” Rosalina had to shout over the loud country and western music. Maybe it was the pitcher of margaritas they’d ordered, but she hadn’t had this much fun in ages.

Disco balls in all sizes hung from the ceiling. They spun out colorful streaks of light that ricocheted off shiny belt buckles and polished cowboy boots and splashed across the clothes of people line dancing. The place was alive with crazy energy.

For the first time in her life, she felt unencumbered. That lid on his life Marcel had talked about? Tonight, she’d blown hers off. She could do or say anything she wanted. She could be anyone she wanted.

“This is hardly a night club.” Skylar rubbed the condensation on her glass with both thumbs. “It’s just a loud, rowdy bar.”

“Not your scene?”

Skylar perked up. “Ah, I’m sorry. Don’t listen to me. It’s just…I got pregnant before I had a chance to hang out in bars.” She ran a hand through her short hair. “Which means I don’t get out nearly enough, so this is great for me.”

“I don’t go out much, either. I’d almost always prefer to be home in my pajamas reading a book and drinking tea.” The jolt of awareness knocked the smile right off her face.

Is that why Marcel had turned to Fabiana?

Because she was boring? She was either in her lab or reading a book or hiking or…

Wait a minute. What made him so damn exciting? What interests did he have?

No, they might not be able to party, get drunk, and hook up, but she’d never missed any of those things because she had a full life. Marcel had no interests. If he’d grown bored, he should’ve found a hobby.

He did. Fabiana.

Traitors.

“What just happened?” Skylar flapped her hand at Rosalina’s face. “Right there. You got all butt-hurt, and then came out swinging? Literally, a whole movie just played out on your face.”

“I’m sorry…butt…what?” Rosalina stuttered out a laugh.

“What were you just thinking about?”

“Well, the butt-hurt part was when I blamed myself for someone losing interest in me. The swinging part was when I realized I’m not to blame for someone else’s choices.”

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about.” Skylar lifted a fist, and Rosalina bumped it with hers. “Okay, so this list of everything, what’s on it?

Now that she’d met Brodie, she understood on a visceral level what Marcel had been missing. What he’d craved. She could get it out of her system here in Calamity. “I want to have some wild adventures.”