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“Let her.”
My mind was boggled. “Let her?”
She nodded, her ponytail swaying. “Let her go. Let her learn for herself the guy’s a dud. If I tell her, or Bridget, or you, she’ll push back and probably sleep with the loser just to prove a point.”
I practically growled at the idea of Lindy fucking some other man.
“So let her,” she forged on. “Tell her she’s pretty and send her on her way to the date. She’s coming home to you and your pillow berm. Trust me. A Hunter Valley dentist versus you? There’s no competition.”
I scratched the back of my neck and glanced down at the grass. “What if you’re wrong?”
“Then you can kidnap Lindy and her sex toys and show her who’s boss.”
My dick and I both liked that idea. I looked to Mallory and asked with words full of hope, “Can’t I just do that and skip the rest?”
She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “Make that Plan B.”
Plan B. Fuck. I liked Plan B a hell of a lot better than Plan A. But I wanted Lindy to want me, to beg me to fuck her. To tell me about why she never moved out of the house she grew up in, or why she let her boss give her ridiculous amounts of work or why she was so hell bent on finding a man when I was right in front of her.
I didn’t want her orgasms because I kidnapped her and her battery-operated boyfriends. I wanted her heart, freely given, and nothing less.
“Fine,” I grumbled like a grouchy teenager. “A date with a dentist it is.”
Fuck.
16
LINDY
* * *
“–before we even got out the drill. We got the dental dam in to expose only the back molar and–”
Alan Isaacson was handsome. Well dressed. Attentive. But boring as hell. He started on about his top three craziest patients right after we placed our order and hadn’t stopped.
His longwindedness was partially my fault, me learning more than I ever wanted about halitosis and gum grafts, because I hadn’t shared much myself. He was holding up first date small talk on his own because I’d been distracted ever since I left the house.
Dex’s house.
After we finished moving things around at the house–mine and Bridget’s–the four of us sat on the front yard and watched the tree trimmers invade the only home I’d ever known with revving chainsaws. They’d gone after the branches inside, slicing them into manageable chunks and tossing them out the jagged openings the tree had made. Piece by piece, they dismantled the entire thing into nothing but a big pile. Scout had grabbed a stick from it and kept it in his mouth.
Dex and I didn’t linger when they powered up the woodchipper, but Bridget and Mav did. I should have been the one to stay and ensured everything was done right, but they promised they’d see it done. Mav had his arm around Bridget’s waist and the one thing I’d learned about the guy–and appreciated–was that he took care of what was his.
Bridget was his.
Maybe I left because I felt the same recurring bout of envy whenever I saw the two of them together. Mav took care of Bridget. Shouldered her problems. A tree fell on her house? He’d move mountains–or a dead cottonwood–to make her happy.
I wanted that. For someone to take care of things with me. For me.
Ever since our parents were killed, I’d been the one taking care of everything. Putting my life plans on hold, raising Bridget.
Today, for once, I walked away. Why? Because I had this date with Alan the dentist, hoping he might be Mr. Right.
Clearly, he wasn’t. That didn’t bother me that much. I was used to man after man not being the guy for me. What irked me was Dex.
The frustrating man! Gah!
He didn’t say one word–one word!–about the date, only settled on the couch with that book of his and started reading. He’d even let me take over his bathroom for an hour to get ready. Then, when it was time to leave to meet Alan at the restaurant, he told me I looked pretty, waved me off with his quick grin and a light and breezy, “Have fun!”
