She propped her elbows upon the table and cradled her cheeks with her hands. “Some honeymoon this has turned out to be.”
Granny Bert leaned in with a worried look on her face. “All the stress hasn’t affected Brash’s performance, has it?” she asked in a confidential tone.
When she realized her grandmother’s meaning, Madison was mortified. “Of course not!” she snapped. Not that she wanted to discuss her sex life with her grandmother!
“Good. That’s good.” The older woman sat back in obvious relief, reaching out to pat her granddaughter’s arm. “Wanda won’t be so glad to hear it,” she admitted, “but Sybil will be.”
Madison stared at her grandmother in horror. “Your friends are betting on our sex life?”
“Just a friendly little wager.” Her shrug said it was of no importance. “The loser buys margaritas the next time we go to Montelongo’s. Wanda figured all the stress of being a sudden sex symbol and accused of colluding with a murderer might be too much for a man to handle, but you’ll be happy to know, Sybil had full confidence in him.”
“No, I am not happy about any of this!” She enunciated her displeasure. “Please tell me that you did not engage in this… this degrading and humiliating farce of a bet!”
“No, child. That would just be crass.” Her grandmother’s look was reproachful.
“And it’s not crass for your friends?” Madison challenged. “Two old women, speculating on how successful my honeymoon will be?”
“Watch who you’re calling old,” Granny Bert warned.
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