by Lori Foster
Angie was so deliberately hostile that Phoenix wasn’t sure what to think. Across from her, Ridley mouthed the word: bitch.
Phoenix shook her head. She remembered Angie as friendly, funny and easygoing. But that was then, and perhaps more had changed than she realized. “I did have a question for him,” Phoenix said neutrally.
“You can ask me. David and I are together now.”
The way she said it, Phoenix could tell that Angie expected to surprise her. Did that mean David had come to see her without Angie knowing? Not a great way to start a relationship. “That’s wonderful. I hope you’ll both be really happy.”
Since that wasn’t what Angie expected, she was quiet a moment before snapping, “What’s your question?”
“I was trying to find David on Facebook, but—”
“I had him cancel everything because of this exact reason! I didn’t want you coming back around, causing more trouble.”
“More?” she asked, starting to get annoyed herself.
“You hurt him,” Angie accused.
Having the truth flung at her, Phoenix deflated. “I know, and I’m sorry.”
At that, Ridley stiffened and shook her head.
Phoenix ignored her. “That was never my intention.”
“It’s too late for you to apologize to him now.”
Apparently, it wasn’t, since she’d just done so yesterday—and David had accepted.
“You’re not going to worm your way back in.”
“I wasn’t trying to, I promise.”
“If you mean that,” Angie said, her tone flat, “then stay out of his life.”
“I plan to.” Best to just spit it out so she could end this awful call. “I just need to know, is he living with you?”
“Yes. He’s moved on. We’ve moved on. You should do the same.” The call ended.
Stunned, Phoenix stared at her phone, then slowly looked up at Ridley.
“Gee, is she jealous much?”
“Ridley.” It seemed Angie felt very protective of David, and that made Phoenix reconsider just how badly it had crushed him when she’d ended their engagement. She sat back and pondered what to do next. “I still don’t think it was David.”
“If it’s any consolation, I find it hard to believe too, but that doesn’t mean we should rule him out. From now on, you shouldn’t be alone.”
Phoenix almost groaned. “You, too?”
“Yes, me, too.” Ridley held up a finger to silence her complaints. “Think about how you’d feel if that crazy stuff happened to me.”
“It hasn’t been that crazy. Yes, the firecrackers were terrible, but bulbs do blow, so that might not have been all that significant.”
Ridley dropped her hands and stared at Phoenix, her voice going all gentle and big sisterly. “I just got you back, Phoenix. Humor me, please.”
Put that way, of course she would. “I’ll be extra careful at all times. I promise.”
“Thank you.” She forked her last bite of chicken. “So where does grouchy Angie live? I can drive by there to see if David is really with her.”
“No, you absolutely will not do that. It’s stalkerish.” She got up to throw away her empty salad container. “Besides, David knows you.”
They both snickered over the real reason Phoenix didn’t want Ridley going by the house, then Phoenix said, “I should get back to work.”
“Me, too.”
She paused, eyeing Ridley. “Is Baxter coming over again tonight?”
“Yup.”
“Is he staying the night?”
“Hell, no.” Ridley grinned. “I hope he tries just so I can throw him out, but my guess is he’ll stay long enough to be polite, then make his getaway.”
Folding her arms and leaning back on the counter, Phoenix asked, “Does that bother you?”
Ridley looked her right in the eyes and said with credible indifference, “Nope.”
Phoenix still didn’t buy it. “You said he bought you a gift?”
Lifting the hem of her shirt, Ridley showed off a small canister set inside a case that clipped onto her pocket.
“Mace?”
Ridley snorted a laugh. “Bug spray, actually.” She flipped the little container. “My own personal defense against insects. Really sweet gift.”
“Yes, very thoughtful.”
She scrunched her mouth to one side. “I got all stupidly grateful when he gave it to me, but that didn’t seem to bother him. At least, not at the time. I guess I should have just said, thanks, jerk, and left it at that.”
Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh. “Cut him some slack, sis. Diehard bachelors are always afraid of getting involved. If he’s feeling tempted, he might be more defensive.”
Ridley shook off her sour mood. “Whatever. Let’s go before Big Sexy reprimands us for slacking on the job.” On the way out the door, she said again, “Don’t go off to that maintenance building alone, okay? It’s too isolated. If you need to be there, let me know and I’ll go with you.”
“And if someone accosts us, you’ll blast them with your bug spray?”
She nodded. “Followed by a knee to the nuts. Gets ’em every time.”
* * *
That Friday night, Baxter lay next to Ridley, still sucking in great gulps of air, a sheen of sweat on his body, his muscles relaxed, and he wondered what the hell was going on.
With him, not her. Oh, he knew exactly what she was doing: giving him what he’d asked for.
And God Almighty, the lady knew how to give.
As usual, she’d drained him. He’d never known a more energetic, enthusiastic and creative partner.
Or a woman more remote.
He turned his head to see her. Like him, she rested on her back, one leg bent slightly outward, a forearm over her eyes, her hair spread over the pillow.
His gaze tracked the line of her stubborn chin and soft, parted lips, down her delicate throat and over the slope of her extraordinary breasts. Her nipples were soft now, but still rosy from their vigorous activity.
Her other hand rested limply on her stomach.
He wanted her again, which was insane since his heartbeat hadn’t slowed yet. In the past four days, he’d come to the conclusion that he couldn’t stop wanting her.
He thought about her during instruction, when he was underwater with a full class. He thought about her when other women came on to him. He thought about her when he hadn’t seen her for a few hours, or when he knew he’d see her soon, and like now, when he was still with her.
Suddenly she reached over and, without moving that arm from her eyes, blindly patted him—getting perilously close to his junk. “I’m about to fall asleep.”
Which was her way of saying, Hit the road, bud. Well, screw it. He wasn’t ready to go yet. Staying a little longer wouldn’t hurt anything.
Having her one more time would only signify that she was sexy—which was something she already knew.
Besides, it was Friday. If ever he was going to stay, Friday would be the—Stop trying to rationalize it.
Abruptly turning onto his side, Baxter caught her hand and kissed her knuckles.
She went very still, her chest no longer rising and falling with her deep breaths.
“Do you plan to sleep like this?” he asked, carrying her hand, held in his, back to her belly, then lightly brushing over her midriff, down to that soft fluff of hair. His knuckles teased over her, finding her still damp and warm, and his dick shifted in interest.
Slowly, Ridley lowered her arm. Her eyes looked like blue ice...that was quickly thawing. “No,” she said with just a hint of sarcasm. “After sex, I usually pull on a ball gown to sleep in.”
Baxter’s mouth twitched. Ridley’s prickliness was both amusing and adorable. “Is that right? Can you fit many ball gowns in t
hat tiny closet?”
“One is all I need, right? Now if you’ll go—” she tried to tug her hand from his, but he held on “—I’ll get dressed and go to sleep.”
Ignoring most of that, he asked, “Are you sleepy? Because I’m suddenly wide-awake.”
She jerked, hard, and freed her hand. “Maybe you could jog around the park?” she said with a sneering smile. “That might help you expend some energy.”
“I can think of a better way to unwind.”
She glared. “I just unwound you, damn it.”
“Yes, you did,” he agreed, reaching out to trace a circle around one nipple—which immediately tightened. “But then you lay there looking unbelievably gorgeous and smokin’ hot, and suddenly I was wound up again.”
Her eyes went heavy, a flush climbing up her throat—then without warning, she scrambled out of the bed and stood beside it, feet braced apart, hands on naked—luscious—hips, frying him with the fierceness of her gaze. “Get out.”
Baxter considered her before cautiously sitting up. “Get out now, but return tomorrow?”
She rolled one shoulder. “That’s up to you.”
“Doesn’t matter to you either way?”
Her chin went up. “Hey, you’re the one who is so squeamish about staying over. I’m just following your cues.”
That bit of honesty surprised him. He would have bet money that Ridley would have gone the rest of her life swearing that she was the one who didn’t want him sleeping over. Instead, she shamed him by putting it all back on him—where it rightfully belonged.
He gave her an apologetic look. “I’m a dick.”
“No argument from me.” She turned to walk away, a hard-ass to the bitter end.
He caught her wrist, very gently, and pulled her back around. “Let’s talk.”
“Sure. Tomorrow.”
Admiration had him smiling. “Since you’re being so upfront, do you really want me to go? You know I will. But if it’s just that you’re still rightfully pissed, then I’d like to explain.”
“Ohhh, you have an—” she made air quotes “—explanation? Why didn’t you say so?” Like a princess, all haughty and smug, she perched on his lap.
With them both naked.
Baxter sighed. “You don’t make it easy.”
Wiggling her ass, she smiled at him and said, “Don’t you mean I make it hard?”
“So damn sassy.” He turned suddenly, pinning her under his chest on the mattress, her legs still draped over his thighs.
Her mouth pinched and her slim brows drew together. “This is not a position for discussion.”
“It is if we both try really hard.” He waited, his expression a question, until she nodded. “Thank you.” Why he was suddenly into self-torture, he didn’t know, but this? This defined torture.
But what else could he do?
He felt caught in the middle of two impossible situations. Wanting Ridley, while not wanting to want her.
As if that made sense.
Hating the humiliation of his past, but for some reason, driven to explain it to her. Maybe because she hadn’t pried.
Maybe because he wasn’t sure if it would matter to her. To them.
He was tired of fighting her, while also fighting himself. So he manned up and started with, “I got dumped once.”
Her bottom lip poked out in a silly, sympathetic pout. “Oh, poor baby.” Then in a meaner voice, she asked, “Is that it?”
“Not entirely.” Dropping his attention to her boobs made it easier. And besides, he liked looking at them. “I was getting serious, but apparently she was just confused.”
“Well, you’re confusing, so I can understand—”
“She was gay.” He winced at how he spit that out there, but getting it over and done with was easier than dragging it out. He didn’t want to tell Ridley about the girl’s reticence even while insisting they had sex, or how disconnected she’d been—definitely not about how she’d cried afterward, or how fucking sick he’d felt about it all.
Silence, and then: “Oh?”
She said it like a question, as if she needed him to spell it out for her. Great. He tried for some flippancy. “Yeah, see, she wasn’t sure, but apparently sex with me convinced her.”
Ridley snorted. “Don’t be an ass. I’d say if she gave up sex with you, then she wasn’t confused at all. Macho, hot, well-hung studs with crazy, mind-blowing moves just wasn’t her thing.”
Baxter almost laughed. Almost. Ridley gave him hell with both barrels, and now she’d just defended him the same way. “Well hung?” he asked, to hide how pleased he was with her very Ridley-like reaction.
“Like you don’t know it.” She slipped her arms around his neck. “How old were you?”
To hide some of the embarrassment, he played it down, saying, “A very tender twenty-two.”
“Tender? You?” She gave another rude snort. “But hey, I can see how that might kick your ego.”
Talk about an understatement. He’d been madly in love for the first time in his life—and she’d told him he was part of an experiment. A failed experiment. “She dated a lot of guys,” he admitted. “She definitely seemed into the opposite sex. Then she hooked up with me and turned to women.”
Humor curved her sweet mouth. “Bet your buddies had a field day with that one.”
To put it mildly. He’d been the butt of every joke for a damned year. None of it had been deliberately cruel, just guys being guys, and he’d done his best to take the gibes with chuckles...but it had still sucked. If he hadn’t been personally involved with her, if he hadn’t thought she was the one... “Yeah, everyone really yukked it up.”
“If I’d been around then,” she said, leaning up to nibble on his bottom lip, “I’d have taken advantage of your weakened state and used. You. Up.” She sealed her mouth over his and kissed him in that scorching way she had, using lips and tongue and teeth. “No one would have dared to tease.”
“Yeah?” The past slid away into the recesses of his mind, overshadowed by the present—with Ridley in it. “Why don’t you show me?”
She dodged his reciprocal kiss. “We’re talking, remember?”
Right. The talk. “We’re not done?” Because he was definitely done.
Ridley rolled her eyes. “Where’s that woman now?”
“In a happy five-year relationship.” He smiled, thinking of the only good thing to come out of that time. “Great job, great partner, good life.”
She tipped her head, studying him. “How do you know?”
“We live in the same neighborhood.” Which, of course, since they shared some of the same friends, meant the jokes resurfaced every so often. Hell, sometimes even she told them. Sometimes he did, too. They were past it, he was happy for her...but it had definitely been a lesson learned.
“And you chat with her? You two are friends?”
“You realize there’s no reason to be jealous, right? I mean, she’s definitely not into me—proved that years ago.”
Ridley smacked his shoulder. “I’m not jealous. I’m...awed.”
That didn’t make any sense. “Why would you be?”
“Because this woman impacted you, and not in a good way, right?”
“I got over it.” Eventually.
“But you don’t resent her for it?”
Ridley’s boobs were really distracting him now. “Wasn’t her fault, was it? She had a right to be happy, same as everyone else.” He’d mostly blamed himself for falling in love—or at least as in love as a horny twenty-two-year-old could.
Something strange brightened her eyes. Her lashes half lowered and she wore this odd smile. “You’re not such a dick after all.”
“I have my moments.”
“Well, if you were a saint, you wouldn’t be nearly so appealing.” She push
ed against his chest until he rolled to his back so she could climb atop him. “Here’s the deal. Are you listening?”
Baxter clasped her ass with both hands and pressed her closer. “You have my undivided attention.”
“I’m not interested in a serious relationship, but like anyone else, I enjoy a good cuddle now and then. If you want to stay over, ask. I’ll either say yes or no, but it won’t be vindictive. If I want you to stay, I’ll ask. If you say no, I’ll assume you have a good reason and I won’t be offended. But no more darting off unexpectedly. I don’t like that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Was she into him sleeping over? He got hard, or rather harder, just thinking about it. “How’s tonight looking?”
“I don’t know,” she said, all sassy attitude. “Will you make it worth my while?”
He grinned. Somehow, in some bizarre way, having what should have been a very uncomfortable talk with Ridley had turned into a very relaxed thing, a sexy thing. Damn, she was unique. “You have a quick answer for everything, don’t you?”
“Are you being evasive?” she countered.
“Not at all.” Rolling, he tucked her beneath him. He kneed her legs farther apart, settling between them, then opened his mouth on her throat, her shoulder, down to her breasts. “I promise,” he whispered against her warming flesh, “you won’t have any complaints.”
Slender fingers tunneled into his hair, holding him closer as she whispered, “You can stay.”
* * *
With a little lurch to her heart, Phoenix noticed that the photo of Cooper’s wife was missing from the bookshelf in the living room. She’d gotten used to seeing it there, and now the empty space between the books made the bookshelf look like a puzzle with a piece missing.
Wondering why he’d moved it, she sat on the couch. Immediately, Sugar began hopping, wanting up. The dog’s legs were just a little too short to make the leap easy. Phoenix bent and lifted her into her lap. “Now that you’re eating regularly, you’ve really filled out.”
On alert, Sugar stared at Phoenix and flipped her head to one side. Her ears followed. She flipped it the other way, and her ears followed again. Phoenix laughed, holding the dog’s face and kissing her furry little forehead right between her big dark eyes. “You don’t understand, do you? Only we humans are self-conscious about weight.”