“No, thank you.” She combined her refusal with a polite smile she didn’t truly feel. “It’s been a long shift. I need to decompress.”
Jennifer motioned to a booth just inside the room. “How’s this?”
“Perfect.” She could sit with her back to them and still have a clear view of the front door. She slid onto the narrow seat and accepted the menu from Jennifer.
“Anything to drink?”
A bottle of your cheapest wine—and put a straw in it. “Iced tea, no lemon.”
“Coming right up.”
Zoe stared at the menu. Conversation behind her fell to whispers. Words swam before her eyes. Damn. She was going to start bawling right here. A shadow blocked the light. The second she glanced up, Frank slid in beside her.
“Scoot over.” He butted his hip against hers.
“What are you doing?” Zoe refused to budge.
“I’m sitting with you. What does it look like?”
She flicked her fingers toward the opposite seat. “Then sit there.”
“You know I can’t sit with my back to the door.”
“It looked to me like that’s what you were doing over there.” She motioned to the party behind them.
Frank shrugged. “I lost the toss. Only fair way to determine seating when you have a table of cops.” He nudged again. “Scoot.”
It occurred to Zoe that she could move to the other seat, but that meant depriving herself of the brief joy of having Frank next to her. The man made her feel all kinds of crazy happy inside—safe and sheltered, small and feminine. Worry and fear didn’t dare bother her with Frank by her side. His sheer personality warned them away. She wanted to lean into his solid body and cry her heart out.
“How nice you ran into your husband.” Jennifer put down a tall glass of iced tea.
Reality slapped Zoe’s daydreams to bits. “Oh, he’s not my husband.”
Frank plopped his hand over hers and squeezed. “Not yet.”
Jennifer’s smile drained the power grid. “When’s the wedding?”
“We’re not engaged, either.” Zoe slipped her hand from under his and grabbed her straw.
“Not yet.” Frank dropped his hand to her thigh, shocking Zoe senseless. Her clit cheered at how near he was to it. Juices flowed in anticipation of more. “I’m still trying to get her to notice me.”
Jennifer’s gaze ping-ponged between them. Her smile dimmed while she probably pondered a response—or planned how she could get Frank for herself. Although he was a bit old for her. Hell, he was a bit old for Zoe, too, but that didn’t stop her from lusting after him. She’d calculated around a ten-year age gap. Her fantasies of him pressing her to the nearest wall and fucking her senseless didn’t care. A thread of jealousy twined its way to the surface. If Jennifer started flirting—
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About the Author
Blessed (or cursed) with a vivid imagination, award-winning author Caitlyn Willows eventually learned to turn that talent inward. Readers will find deep emotions and sizzling sensuality seamlessly woven into her action-filled stories. Believing life is to be lived and felt, not merely watched, Caitlyn delivers real-to-life characters in unforgettable tales of love, adventure, and always steamy passion. No one is more surprised than she at the direction life has taken her. She is also a mosaic artist and an avid crafter with a passion for cross-stitch. Caitlyn lives in the beautiful desert of Southern California with her husband (a genealogist). She is always on the lookout for the next interesting tidbit that will help fill her writing well.
Caitlyn loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website details and author profile page at https://www.totallybound.com
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