“Celeste?” Ryan said in a whisper.
Boon touched his thumbs, forefingers up, and sighted through them as if measuring, whispered back, “No. I think Marguerite.”
Smothering laughs, they tiptoed past a rumpled pile of clothing on the floor. Ryan figured they’d stripped in the height of passion, just as he and Boon had done.
“Dane and Bear?” he whispered.
“They’re probably in one of my guest rooms. Day off. They’ve bunked here before.”
Ryan nodded and breathed in the crisp night air as he stretched. “Thanks for a perfect night,” he said. “Keep in touch?”
“Touch? You can bet on it.” Boon laughed at his double entendre and then gave him a playful swat on the butt.
* * * *