“Were what?”
“Special.” His lips tightened. “Beautiful.”
Tears clogged her throat. She swallowed past the burn. “But you don’t want to try?”
“No.”
His word exploded like gunfire. She wanted to yell and scream and cry. Shake him, beg him, hit him. Instead, she accepted because she had no other options left.
“We’ll try for another week. Eventually, you need to go home to your real life.” Gen ignored his wince, reminding herself he’d been the one to choose the course. “If I’m uncomfortable, you have to promise to leave.”
“I will. I swear I’ll make it right.”
She nodded, but he knew she didn’t believe him. Not anymore.
Gen went back to her pastry, but this time she didn’t make a sound.
GEN KNOCKED AND OPENED the door. Kate was muttering to herself, surrounded by files, and her dog, Robert, lay quietly on a worn doggy bed in the corner, sleeping in the sun. At the sight of her, the dog lifted his head and wagged his tail, canine joy vibrating his body as he rose and scrambled over to her for a greeting. His hind legs were paralyzed, but that didn’t slow him as he dragged his rear over the floor and threw himself into her arms. She’d seen him fifteen minutes ago, but each time was like the first joyous encounter.
Gen laughed, bent down, and caught him. Pressing kisses to his head, she allowed his presence to reach deep inside and soothe her. Kate had rescued Robert years ago when she found him on the side of the road, run over twice by a car. His back legs had been smashed. With Kate’s usual stubbornness and all-encompassing love for creatures big and small, she’d committed to his operation and healing, and now had a companion for life.
Besides Slade, of course.
Gen had seen Slade with the dog, and a tight bond had been formed between them. The path might have been rocky, but now it was as if they were an adopted family. Seeing Kate settled and happy made everything worth it.
“Do you want me to take him for a walk? You have his scooter here, right?” Gen asked, rubbing the sweet spot between his ears. He gave a doggy moan of ecstasy.
Kate sighed. “Thanks, but he’s good for a while. My sitter couldn’t come today so I figured I’d give him a treat and take him with me. Slade has court so he won’t be home till late.”
“Sounds good. You look stressed. Anything I can help with?”
“You’ve already been saving my ass. Thank God for brilliant surgeons who turn to matchmaking. Hey, you want to shadow Kennedy tonight at the Purple Haze? There’s a mixer and you can learn the ropes.”
“Sure. I have nothing else going on.” The thought of Wolfe trying to reinforce their friendship when she only craved to jump his bones was a bit complicated. Better to get home late.
Gen rose to her feet, wincing at the soreness lingering between her thighs, and turned.
“Holy. Shit.”
She whirled back around. “What’s the matter?”
Kate’s gaze sharpened, sweeping past her figure. “Why are you wearing a scarf today, Gen?”
Her mouth fell open. The bright pink silk was light, fun, and covered the array of hickeys on her neck. Her heart pounded wildly but she tried to be cool. “Thought it looked good with the outfit. Why? You have a rule against scarves?”
The joke fell flat. “Take it off. I want to see something.”
She forced a laugh. “No. It’s hard to tie it correctly.”
“You had sex! Why didn’t you tell me the truth? I know you decided not to see Charles anymore, but I had no idea it was because you slept with him. How was it? Bad? Good? Medium? Do you regret it? Are you happy? Did you have an orgasm?”
The questions peppered her faster than a machine gun. Crap. She’d been so close to escape. After dodging Kate’s texts on Sunday, she marched into her office this morning to tell her all about the date. Gen stuck to the main truth, saying the date had been good but they both decided not to pursue a relationship. Her friend took the news good-naturedly, telling her over and over that finding the right match took patience, time, and effort.
Now she thought they’d screwed each other.
“Umm, Charles and I didn’t have sex.”
Kate blinked. Studied her hard. “Wait a minute. I know you’re hiding evidence under that scarf. You’ve been walking funny all day, but I thought it was the shoes. Even your lips have that pouty look that says you’ve been sucking on something for a long time. I know you had sex, I feel it!”
Why did Kate have to be so damn perceptive? Should she lie? She played the privacy card as a last resort. “Kate, please don’t ask me any questions. I’m not ready to discuss my personal business, and I’d appreciate it if you give me some time and space and I’ll give you more information when I’m ready.”
Perfect. Textbook. Even Kate couldn’t deny her.
Her friend picked up the phone and punched out numbers. “Kennedy? Get in here pronto. And get Arilyn. I’m with Gen and she had sex and she won’t tell me details. Yes, of course we need the Baileys!”
Kate crossed her arms in front of her chest, leaned back in the leather chair, and glared. “Why don’t you try repeating that bullshit again?”
Gen closed her eyes in defeat.
The door flew open. Kennedy held four bottles of miniature Baileys in her manicured hands. Her high heels clicked confidently over the floor, and her Donna Karan chocolate-colored suit screamed professional elegance. Arilyn trailed behind her in yoga pants, a soft cream tunic, and her long strawberry hair pulled back in a braid. She looked about twelve.