Page 6 of Warming His Bed

“Don’t be ridiculous. I required applicants to include photos.”

“Holy shit.” Ben laughed so hard he doubled over next to Brody in the booth.

“And she did?” Will looked concerned. He was the least deranged of the three of them.

“Yup,” Brody said, popping the p at the end. He snatched his phone back and thumbed through it some more as Paul sauntered up to our table with a fresh pitcher.

Brody held up his phone, a picture of the woman from my porch filling the screen. Her head turned to the side, laughing at something out of frame. Judging by the arms around her shoulders and waist, it was a group photo from some kind of special event, but the people on either side were cropped out. An irrational need to know if one of those arms belonged to a date rose inside me.

Paul let out a low whistle. “Who do we have here?” he asked.

“None of your goddamn business,” I snapped.

The motherfucker had the nerve to smirk in response.

“Brody rented her a room in Drew’s house,” Will answered.

“She’s got to be demented to have answered that ad,” I said.

“Did she seem crazy?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know. She was on my porch for all of five minutes before I told her to get lost.”

“What?” Brody spit out his mouthful of beer.

“Did you honestly think I was going to let a total stranger stay in my house because she claimed to have rented a room from me?”

“Well…yeah. Look at her.” Brody thrust his phone in my face like I hadn’t already seen her in live Technicolor. Like I hadn’t breathed in the scent of her shampoo thanks to her hair getting wet in the rain. Like I didn’t know what the glimmer of challenge in her eyes looked like directed my way.

Paul’s head moved back and forth like a dog watching a ping-pong tournament as we argued. “She can stay with me if she needs a place,” he offered.

“Keep it in your pants, Casanova,” I barked at him. Manwhore might have been a stretch, but Paul’s bed stayed occupied more often than it was empty back when I had my finger on the pulse of local gossip. I had no idea whether he was still a free agent, but the idea of him sweeping in to save that woman made my stomach harden.

His eyes twinkled. “All right, then. You guys let me know if you need anything else,” he said as he backed away from our booth.

“I can’t believe you turned her away,” Brody said.

“Believe it. I’m not interested in shacking up with some sightseer. You need to refund her money,” I told Brody.

“No can do. I already donated it to the Widows’ Fund. In your name.”

I pulled in a deep breath through my nostrils and clenched my fists. I wasn’t sure what pissed me off more, Brody interfering in my personal life or the thought of that woman getting ripped off.

But it didn’t matter, I reminded myself. This wasn’t my problem. She wasn’t my problem. Brody caused this mess, he could clean it up. “Then pay her back yourself.”

“I don’t think the website even has a way to issue a refund.”

“Figure. It. Out.”

I pushed out of the booth and stormed off.

And this, this was exactly why I didn’t go out anymore. With friends like these, who needed enemies?

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