Cassidy felt the need to defend Laura, then realized she didn’t know enough about her to contradict Ashly. Was Laura hard up for money? She didn’t come across that way at all, but you never know. She looked over at the two new planters, smiling as the different colors burst from the top.

“I think she enjoys it,” Cassidy said. “The yard crew I had wasn’t working out so…I asked her.”

“She seemed kinda old to be doing stuff like that.”

“Old?”

“She’s probably close to forty. Of course, the way she was dressed…” she said, her voice trailing off as if it was a bad thing.

What was wrong with the way she was dressed? Laura had had on her usual cutoff jeans and baseball cap. Today she’d been in sports sandals instead of the grass-stained sneakers she’d had on the other times. She frowned. And old?

“How old do you think I am?” she asked Ashly.

Ashly smiled at her seductively. “I’m going to guess thirty-five or six,” she said. “But that’s no problem. I like older women.”

Cassidy sighed wearily. “And how old are you again?”

“Twenty-nine.” She laughed. “I’m dreading turning thirty.”

Cassidy fell into the pool, fighting the urge to swim over to Ashly and tip her off her float. But that would be childish. She was too old to be childish, so she played along.

“Thirty was tough. I recommend a big party with lots of alcohol.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that.” She rolled her head in Cassidy’s direction. “Why am I the only one naked?”

“I actually need to go inside. I’m grilling chicken tonight—green jerk. I need to get it in the sauce. It has to marinate for a few hours.”

“What’s green jerk?”

“It’s Jamaican. It’s a spicy, sweet green sauce that goes over drumsticks. I made the sauce last night.”

“I’m not much for real spicy.”

Cassidy bit her lip. “It’s not all that spicy. It’s just got a unique hot and sweet mix.”

“I suppose it’ll be okay.”

Cassidy put her hands on the side of the pool and lifted herself out. “Great. Be right back.” She paused, remembering her manners. “You want another wine cooler? Or perhaps a margarita? I could mix up a batch.”

Ashly’s eyes lit up. “I love margaritas.”

“Okay. I’ll bring one right out.”

She gave a relieved sigh as she headed back inside. The outdoor kitchen had all the makings for margaritas, but she escaped into the coolness—and quiet—of the house to make them instead.

* * *