“Brandon!” She laughed, taken with the notion that her newfound semivirginity brought with it a subtle power. “I didn’t change anything. I just don’t see anyone but you that I would like to have sex with.”

He thought about that for a moment. “But if you did, you would?”

“What are you talking about?”

He gave her an earnest look, as if somehow his own freedom were now at risk. “If you did see someone you wanted to sleep with, you would. I mean, you don’t feel . . .” He couldn’t finish the thought. “Okay. What I mean is, you can’t put this on me. It’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything to make you act this way.”

She seemed touched. Her sharp, doll-like face melted a bit and her huge eyes made her look for that moment like a child. “That was so sweet.”

“That’s not the answer I was looking for, Maria.”

“Yes, it was.”

They were nearing General Wayne Duncan’s house. For the first time he became aware of how Maureen Duncan might receive them. “I, ah, kind of wish you weren’t wearing that thong.”

She looked down at herself, seeing nothing to be ashamed of, and then shrugged. “I have a sarong in my bag.”

He parked the car and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for Maria. Standing next to the car, she took a multicolored wraparound dress from her bag and pulled it around herself.

“Not bad.” He smiled.

“Admit it, Brandon. I look like a princess.”

Maureen Duncan stood in the open doorway as they walked toward her, having seen them pull up at the curb in front of her house. Condley relaxed immediately, seeing that Maureen herself was dripping with sweat, dressed in spandex running shorts and a sports bra. She leaned against the doorway now, her arms folded underneath her breasts. She was grinning expectantly, more amused than surprised by their sudden appearance and by Maria’s decision to dress herself in public.

“Well, Brandon Condley,” she said in an amused, soft Southern drawl. “You look like you could use some Gatorade.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“That one. There. Recognize him?”

Condley grinned mischievously, watching Maria’s expression as General Wayne Duncan stormed through the front door. She turned in her chair and surveyed Duncan carefully as he headed through the living room toward the back veranda, where Condley and Maria now sat with Maureen under a yellow sun umbrella at a large round picnic table.

Duncan grew increasingly nervous under Maria’s bold and playful gaze. She faced him, her glass of iced tea held just below her chin and her crossed legs aimed directly at his approach, and took off her sunglasses, getting a better look. When her sunglasses came off, the general froze, looking from Maria to Maureen and then to Condley.

“I don’t think so,” said Maria finally.

“What is this?” blustered Duncan.