"Come on in," she said, backing up into the house. As Peter stepped forward to shake my hand, I sensed Erika behind me take her turn to pause. Peter was wearing loose, knee-length gray cargo shorts, but the pause had to be for the shirt. It was a white cotton, button-down, short-sleeved camp shirt that looked about a size too small. At least the arms and shoulders were too small. It was unbuttoned halfway down, giving a broad view of a waxed smooth chest. 'Jesus, he waxes his chest?' I thought with a sudden competitive twang.
Erika and Sara shared a quick hug and I offered the bag I held to Peter. "Thanks for inviting us. I brought a bottle."
Peter slid the bottle of Whistle Pig out of the bag and whistled in turn. "This is better than anything I have in the house right now. Can I pour y
