Julia suppressed another wave of guilt. Hiding her identity as the TrendList writer hadn’t seemed like a big deal at first, but the charade was starting to feel more deceptive. How would Luke react if he knew she was here to write a story about her experience at the resort—especially now that he’d become an integral part of that experience? “He said he had a few things to catch up on this afternoon.”

“Maybe that means he’s on that fishing boat?” Andie smirked.

“If he is, his puns are worse than yours,” Julia said.

“Impressive, you mean,” Andie insisted.

“I have to say, I was impressed by the performance last night,” Kat admitted.

“Me too.” Andie leaned sideways, holding a spatula to her mouth like a cigar in a Groucho Marx impression. “And we’re not talking about Zach’s smooth banana.”

“Leave his banana out of this,” Kat admonished. “I was talking about Luke’s singing.” She turned to Julia, blue eyes bright with mischief. “But since we’re on the subject … How was his performance the rest of the evening?”

“Not everything is about the peen,” Julia hedged. She hadn’t told them she’d slept with Luke.

“Says the girl who got some last night,” Kat observed tartly.

Julia dropped the wad of dough she’d been kneading. She should have known she couldn’t hide anything from her friends. Not that she was hiding it, exactly. She just wasn’t ready to discuss it. Not yet.

Andie broke the awkward silence. “Don’t mind Kat. She’s suffering from a one-track mind right now.” Andie pointed to the counter. “Have you been paying attention to what she’s making?”

Grateful for the reprieve, Julia glanced at the shapes lining one of the cookie sheets and blinked. “Are those … penis cookies?”

“They are,” Kat confirmed, as she shaped another phallic ball of dough. “What can I say? My muse was inspired last night.”

“Your muse, huh?” Andie quipped, wiggling her dark eyebrows and waggling the spatula again.

“Yes. My muse.” Kat grabbed the improvised prop and smacked Andie on the butt with it. “You know how we joked about making dick pics more romantic by sending flowers with them?” Kat grinned. “I decided to take things up a notch. Instead of sending actual dick pics with bouquets, you can send a box of dick cookies with the flowers.”

“A dozen dick cookies with a dozen roses.” Andie tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Now that would make for a more interesting Valentine’s Day.”

“I feel like there should be a better name for them, though.” Kat considered her creations. “Dookies?”

“Oh my God, no,” Julia admonished, horrified.

“You are officially not allowed to name anything,” Andie declared. “Ever.”

“Fine.” Kat crossed her arms. “What would you call them?”

“Cockies?” Andie suggested.