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Okay, maybe that was an oversell. I am obviously not a casual-sex kind of girl, and I don’t think I ever will be. But I’d rather deal with the overwhelming sense of guilt and regret later, away from Blake and his flawless abs and his five-star rating.
He nods slowly, actually having the audacity to look hurt by my words. “Right. Well, that’s a relief, I guess.” He turns and dumps his cup in the sink. “Ready to go get your car?”
Wow. He’s kicking me out now? That escalated quickly.
“Sure.”
He disappears for a second as I add my empty mug to the sink, then he meets me again at the door. “Here,” he offers in a low voice, holding out another hoodie. “It’s much cooler out today.”
“Oh, thanks.” I pull it down over my dress, and I’m instantly enveloped by his clean, masculine smell. He opens the door and gestures for me to go ahead, neither of us saying a word as we leave his house and head across town.
The drive gives me too much time to read into his current mood in conjunction with some of the things I’m just remembering he confided in me last night. Maybe it was insensitive of me to imply our conversation about his feelings of inadequacy and abandonment after spending so many years in his younger brother’s shadow wasn’t at least meaningful. But I also can’t imagine anything I say or do actually matters to him.
I sigh inwardly as we pull up next to my old Toyota. She looks pretty worse for the wear next to Blake’s newer, luxury model truck.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle my seat belt. “And for dinner.”
And for the five-star?—
“No problem,” he mutters, thankfully interrupting my thoughts before I blurt out something else embarrassing.
I hold out my hand, and he glares at me as if he can’t believe I’m actually this lame. “Frenemies?” I offer.
He mulls it over for a second before finally clasping his large hand over mine, lingering while his thumb softly rubs the inside of my wrist. I pull back before the rest of my body has a chance to react to his touch, barely catching the way he flexes his empty hand.
I look down shyly and realize I’m still wearing his jacket. “Almost forgot,” I murmur, shifting my position so I can remove it.
He reaches over and stills me. “Keep it for now. I’ll get it from you later.”
“I could always send it back to you through JD or Ethan if you want.”
He puffs up his cheeks and blows out a breath. “I was thinking it probably wouldn’t be a good idea if my brother found out about this. He’d never let us live it down, don’t you think?”
I cringe. “You’re right. I suppose the same goes for Tenley now, you know, that whole ‘two become one’ thing. I get the feeling there won’t be too many secrets between Mr. and Mrs. Bourgeois.”
He laughs quietly, and I realize how awkward it sounds since that’s Blake’s last name too.
“Same pact as before? It stays between us?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well, I’ll see you around, Blake.”
“See you around, Loren.” Surprised that he hadn’t called me by my last name for once, I climb down from his truck, waving shortly for him to go. Then I notice a small note on the windshield of my car.
Blake Bourgeois? Not bad, Loren Reed. Not bad at all. You deserve a good man like Blake.
–Mrs. T
CHAPTER 2
Blake
“Flying solo tonight, Blake?”
I force a polite smile at my business partner’s wife. “Yes, ma’am. I guess I need to step up my game. I couldn’t seem to find a date.”
My coworkers all laugh at that one. Stuff like this used to be a confidence booster for me, the jokes about my dating history and my reputation as a playboy. But lately, it just serves as another reminder that I’m likely to die alone.
