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She sighed. “Tate—”

“You can again claim it’s time for us to each ‘go our own way’ if you want, but what’s the point, Havana? Neither of us are ready for that.”

God, she wished she could argue with that. But there was too much unfinished business between them. Too many feelings she hadn’t yet burned out.

“You don’t want me to stay away from you, Havana, and I sure as fuck don’t have any wish to stay away, so why not just let things be?” He cupped the side of her face and swiped the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. “I wish you’d tell me what I did to upset your devil and make you want to walk.”

And now she was feeling like shit. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I did something, I just don’t know what. Whatever it is, I’m sorry. I’d never purposely hurt you, Havana.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” And she hated that she’d made him believe differently. So she admitted, “But you could. You have that power. And I don’t like it.”

He twisted his mouth. “Yeah, I reckon you could cut me just the same. I can’t say I like it. But I’m not going to let it keep me away from you, and I’m not going to let you do it either.” The hand framing one side of her face slid down to cup her chin. “Let’s just explore and enjoy what we have while we have it.”

“We did that for four months. You don’t think it would be dumb to let this go on for longer, given that you’re determined for things to stay uncomplicated?”

Tate lowered his face to hers. “I’ve got to tell you, babe, there’ll be nothing uncomplicated about walking away from you.” He took her mouth, sinking his tongue inside to stroke her own, then just as swiftly pulled back. He slid his nose against hers. “Tomorrow.”

Watching him stalk out of her room, Havana rubbed at her forehead. By nature, she wasn’t an indecisive person. She didn’t second-guess herself. When she made a choice, she stuck to it. And if it turned out that the decision hadn’t been wise, well, she just plain dealt with the consequences.

Right then, she was mentally fumbling. Did she think that ending their fling had been the wrong thing to do? No. Sort of. If your emotions were involved, it was better to cut your losses when a relationship wasn’t going anywhere. But he was right; she wasn’t ready for them to part ways.

Tate Devereaux had gotten under her skin, and she didn’t see that she had any choice but to take the time to work him back out again. Which absolutely sucked balls.

Cursing, she slipped off the bed and grabbed a camisole and shorts from her dresser. It was time to do what she’d planned to do earlier—watch TV and pig out.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Having had a shit night’s sleep, Havana stepped out of her bedroom the next morning feeling like death warmed up. She trudged into the living room, and the sight she stumbled upon made her sigh. It no doubt wasn’t often that a person found a bearcat on the floor wrapped in a black mamba, especially when said bearcat was ramming the head of the hissing snake on the hardwood floor.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight for Havana, but it rarely happened during the morning for two reasons. One, Aspen didn’t usually come here so early. Two, Bailey was so focused on being ready on time that she didn’t let her mamba out. But as they were all off work today, they could afford to be lazy and fool around. This, though? No. It was too early for this shit.

Havana planted her hands on her hips. “Seriously?” she barked, making both animals freeze. “You know the rules, people—no brawling before I’ve had at least one cup of coffee. So do my addled brain a favor and release. Each other. Now.”

The animals parted, and then both females shifted.

Aspen threw Bailey a dirty look. “Your mamba is such a bitch. I’m surprised I don’t have any cracked ribs.”

Bailey sniffed, rubbing her head. “I’m equally surprised I don’t have a cracked skull. Your bearcat is so damn moody.”

“And yet, your snake constantly taunts her. Explain.”

“You want, like, a rational explanation?”

“That would be good. Am I going to get one?”

“Depends what your personal definition of ‘rational’ is.”

Aspen shook her head and pushed to her feet. “Forget it.”

Massaging her aching temple, Havana headed to the kitchen. There, she prepped the coffee machine before switching it on. Soon enough, she was sitting at the table with breakfast and a mug of steaming hot coffee.

Fully dressed, Aspen hummed to herself as she entered the room. Stumbling to a halt, she said, “Uh-oh.”

Bailey materialized behind her, also now dressed. Her eyes lit up when they locked on the table. “Ooh trifle—” She cut off, her face freezing. “You’re eating trifle for breakfast. That is never good.”

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