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Weston stepped forward. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt a meeting.” He stuck a hand out. “I’m Weston Wright.”
“Wright,” Tamara said with wide eyes. That name held a lot of weight in our small town. The Wrights were Texas royalty. “I’m Tamara.”
West jerked his hand back before Tamara could put hers into his. “Oh.”
Tamara’s mouth dropped open in shock at the insult. But Weston’s eyes went straight to mine. He knew all about what had happened with August and Tamara. We’d lived together after it all went down. I’d been a wreck, crying myself to sleep most nights. He’d been there for me through all of it even though we hardly knew each other then.
“What are you doing here?” Weston snarled at Tamara.
And bless her heart, Tamara rushed into her spiel again. “I just got engaged! I was here to ask Nora to be the wedding planner for me and my fiancé, August.”
“No,” Weston snapped before she could get any further.
Tamara crossed her arms. Red rose up her neck and to her cheeks. “Excuse me?”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? No fucking way is Nora going to plan a wedding for your snake ass.”
“What?” she gasped. “How dare you!”
“No, how dare you! You put her through the wringer last year. You have no right to be here. What is wrong with you? Wasn’t stealing her boyfriend enough for you? Do you have to continue to try to ruin her life?”
Tamara opened and closed her mouth like a fish.
“Get the fuck out,” Weston said. He stepped back and pointed at the door.
“Well, I never…”
“Well, now, you have. Get the fuck out. Now.”
And to my shock, Tamara went. She was flustered and angry, spouting obscenities at both of us, but she went.
As soon as she was gone, I burst into laughter. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you did that!”
“I can’t believe you didn’t.”
“I had it under control. I’d already told her that she couldn’t have the wedding here, but I couldn’t exactly tell her to fuck off at work. This was way more satisfying.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I suppose so. Happy to oblige.”
My hand landed on his wrist. “I’m glad you’re home.”
I suddenly realized we were mere inches from each other, alone in my office, and I hadn’t seen him in months. Our eyes met in the small distance between us. I swallowed and pulled back.
“I mean…”
“I’m glad to be home, too,” he agreed. “I missed you.”
And though he meant as a friend and roommate, my heart tightened, and my stomach fluttered traitorously anyway. Because damn, I’d missed him too.
