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But we also couldn’t.
I came home flushed and flustered, my panties so drenched I could’ve wrung them out. And it was only Wednesday. Wednesday!
That night, as I lay there sliding one hand down between the heat of my thighs? It took every ounce of my will not to snatch my phone from the antique night table… and text them both that I’d left my bedroom door unlocked.
I didn’t though, and I was proud of myself the next day. I enjoyed staying true to my promise. And by the end of every day? I felt a little bit closer to each of them. Kyle told me stories about growing up in California, and about his three older sisters who absolutely adored him. Dakota’s tales were a lot more outlandish; the things they used to do for fun back in Iowa made my own misspent youth pale in comparison.
I even cracked Ryan’s armor a little bit. Our time together usually came in the mornings, over coffee, and if he didn’t have to rush off to workouts or be on base by any particular time he’d tell me about some of the more exotic places he’d been overseas. He enjoyed talking about them much more than his childhood, and I could tell he regarded the Army as his big savior when it came to going down the wrong paths back as a kid in New York.
Through it all, I still kept up with work. Our client list had been stagnant for a while, but Dawn still called a lot. More often than not it was to find a file she’d lost on her computer or to lay some guilt trip on me about being stuck there all alone. I was actually sitting on my bed, in the process of preparing an email to her, when my phone rang.
“Hey you…”
It was like she had a second sense or something.
“Hi!” I replied, trying to sound cheerful. Actually I just wanted to finish and head downstairs. “What’s up?”
“When were you going to tell me about the house!”
My brows crossed. I had no clue what she was talking about. Unless…
“What house?”
“The old Victorian you’re staying at!”
It was strange as hell. I hadn’t told her I was staying in a Victorian. I hadn’t even given her an address.
“How do you know where I—”
“The lakehouse,” she jumped in. “Remember? You told me you were staying there. So I pulled your location and I zoomed in on some satellite images and… my God, Sammara! Is this the big client you’ve been working on?”
I was confused. Maybe a little startled. We’d shared location services in order to more easily find each other on projects. But this…
“The house is beautiful!” cried Dawn. “It’s too far back to see a street view from the road, but from above it looks absolutely gorgeous!”
Part of me wanted to tell her all about the house. To gush and geek out about it, with someone who would actually appreciate it just as much as me.
The other part of me was a little bit pissed off. Here I was on a supposed vacation, trying to figure things out, and she still couldn’t leave me alone.
“When are you coming back? Soon, right?”
Her voice was stern now. Almost commanding. It was a battle we had constantly; the little power struggle between us that prevented us from becoming more than just ‘work friends’. Despite being equal partners, Dawn was overbearing. Always trying to give orders. Always trying to be the point of contact, doing the behind the scenes stuff, while leaving me to do the legwork. The grunt work. The—
“’Mara?”
I hated when she called me that. Only my mother had used that nickname, and it was special to me. Sacrosanct.
“What?”
“I asked when you’re coming back?” She sounded almost annoyed at having to repeat herself. “We’ve got the O’Loughlin project to wrap up, plus you need to meet the stagers at the Santiago house tomorrow morning, and then—”
“You can meet the stagers,” I snapped. “You already have the floor plan. You don’t need me.”
It came out harsh. I didn’t regret it.
“Oh. Um… okay. I just thought since you usually meet the stagers that—”
“And I don’t know when I’m coming back,” I said. “Actually, I might stay a little longer than I thought.”
