by Maggie Wells
“You walked out on me.”
“I evened the score.”
Her rueful laugh told him she’d been onto him all along. “Do you feel better now?”
“Not one bit.”
“Donnie’s leaving today.”
Fighting to keep the smile from his voice, he eased off the brake enough to creep forward with the trickle of traffic. For once in his life, he erred on the side of caution. “How do you feel about that?”
“I’m okay with it.”
The quiet confidence in her tone gave him permission to release the breath he’d been holding. He was a guy, after all. Pussy-whipped he might be, but he had no desire to deal with messy emotions. Still, he would have, if that was what she needed. A discovery that shocked him enough to make him shy away from any closer examination.
“Greg was wondering if I’d chased you off.”
“You spoke to him already?”
A glance at the clock made him smile. “I kind of didn’t tell you that we usually start pretty early. Me, because I move from site to site during the day, Greg because he’s too stupid to stay in bed with a warm, willing woman.”
“Oh.”
She paused for a moment, and he hoped he wasn’t the only one reliving the pleasure of the lazy mornings they’d enjoyed the previous week.
“Is that what I was?” she asked. “Warm and willing?”
“Yes, and I hope you will be again.” He hesitated only a second before adding, “I missed you.”
The silence crackled between them. “I missed you, too.” He heard her draw a shaky breath and let it go slowly. Then she turned up the moonlight and magnolias in her drawl. “Tell me, sugar, are you smarter than your friend?”
“I’m a friggin’ genius compared to that moron.”
“I’m wondering where the line between warm, willing, and unemployed is,” Betty murmured. “Should I plan on being at work at seven-thirty? Eight?”
“Eight would be okay, but seven-thirty would probably fall more in line,” he admitted.
“You should have told me that to start.”
He smiled, happy to be chastised in that prim, proper southern belle tone. He knew damn well exactly how naughty that pretty mouth could be. “I liked you where you were. Besides, I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“I think I proved I don’t scare easy the first day I walked through that door.”
“I don’t remember anything but how sexy you looked in that buttoned-up suit.”
“Funny, I’d think you’d remember it being unbuttoned more.”
Like magic, the automotive log jam loosened and the car ahead of him began to gather speed. Laughing, he tapped the accelerator, determined to keep up. “I was trying to be subtle.”
“Not your strong suit.”
“I should be in the office sometime mid-afternoon.”
She gave a hum he chose to interpret as approval. “I’ll gird my loins,” she purred.
“Please don’t.”
“I’d better go. I need to see Donnie off, but I’ll be in before nine.”
“No need to hurry.”
Betty tsked softly. “I wanted to make a good impression on the boss, and here I’m just finding out I work for a couple of early birds.”
“You’ve made an excellent impression on the only boss you need to worry about pleasing. As a matter of fact, he can’t wait to feel you impressed on him again.”
“Behave.”
“Never,” he retorted.
“I’ll see you later, Boss Man.”
He gave a good-natured groan and blinked, staring straight into the morning sun and letting the teasing lilt in her voice sear away the last of his lingering doubts. “See you this afternoon, Ms. Asher.”
* * * *
Betty couldn’t help but admire the elegant grace of Greg Stark’s hand as he clicked the mouse.
“As you can see, we have all of the permit information on file here.”
The man who was the S in T-A-S was the light to Will’s dark. Smooth and polished, Greg was not only as handsome as a Hollywood leading man, he was bright, good-humored, and open.
“The project management details are in this workbook. We keep a tab for each open project.”
Betty nodded as he clicked from one spreadsheet to the next, then they shared a smile—one Type A to another. “Have you ever considered moving to a database program?” She blinked at the sheer volume of information flashing in front of her eyes.
Greg sighed, shrank the window, then opened a new one to show off yet another of his creations. “I have, but our previous admin had no experience with them and it would take a ton of work on the front end to get one up and running.” The front door opened, but he didn’t stir from the spot he’d claimed at her shoulder. “I’d have done it myself, but Josie threatened to cut me off when she spotted a copy of Data Management for Dummies in my briefcase.”
“Damn right I did.”
Betty looked up to find a dark-haired woman posed dramatically in the doorway. The newcomer was dressed in well-cut slacks and a clingy sweater with a turtleneck. Though the woman was covered from neck to toe, still she oozed the overt sexuality of an old Hollywood bombshell. It was easy to see how she’d snared the gorgeous man beside her. Josie Stark had the kind of brash earthiness Betty had always coveted but could never quite achieve. Well, at least, not until she’d met Will.
“Oh.” The breathless admiration in her tone earned her a chuckle from Greg.
Still, he took his time straightening to his full height. “I know, right?”
Josie responded to their frank appreciation with nothing more than a raised eyebrow. “Is the honeymoon over already? Have I been replaced with a newer, blonder model?”
The thought that any man would choose an uptight former-junior leaguer like her over the sex goddess in the doorway was so ridiculous Betty gave an utterly unladylike snort. A wide smile lit the new Mrs. Stark’s face as she launched herself from the doorway with an answering tinkle of laughter. Greg barely rated a drive-by kiss before his wife turned the full force of her magnetism on Betty.
“I’m sorry. Greg said he thought maybe there might be something going on with you and Will, and, well, I couldn’t wait a minute longer.” She tossed her man an apologetic glance, but the dopey smile on his face made it very clear he’d forgive his sexy little wife just about anything. “I’m so happy to meet you,” she said, extending a hand. “Has Greg bored you with enough of his nerdism for the morning?”
“You love my nerdism,” he grumbled.
“I do. It’s so damn sexy when you spank me with that slide-ruler of yours.”
“Slide rule, not rule-er,” he corrected. “And I’m an architect, not an astronomer.”
“But you play doctor so well, you could do it on TV,” she cooed, flashing a wicked grin.
In that instant, Betty recalled that this woman had once been Will’s lover, and she wanted to curl up into a ball. She couldn’t keep her paunchy blow-hard of a husband out of the town tramp’s bed. How the hell was she supposed to hang onto a man who bypassed women like this?
Before the thought could take root, Josie bussed Greg’s cheek then gave him an adoring smile. Her eyes shone with amusement and excitement. “Can I steal her for lunch and pump her for information now?”
“Oh, I—” Betty sputtered, searching for a plausible excuse, but she really didn’t need to bother. The newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Stark were clearly involved in some kind of silent married-couple communication. The kind Betty and Donald hadn’t mastered in over twenty years of marriage. A sudden surge of jealousy grabbed her by the throat. The last thing she wanted to do was go to lunch with this gorgeous, confident woman.
“I came in late, so I wasn’t planning to take a lunch.” She’d barely squeaked the words past the choke hold the green-eyed monster had on her when Greg switched to audible communication.
“Yeah, I guess th
at would be okay.” He flashed an indulgent smile at his wife then turned the full-wattage of his matinee-idol grin on Betty. “Now, don’t let her fool you. She comes across all bossy and tough, but really she’s a cream puff.”
“I’ll cream puff you, mister,” Josie retorted, but the threat came out in a purr that left no doubt exactly how she planned to…cream him.
The bob of Greg’s Adam’s apple told Betty that he’d caught on as well. Looking for any opportunity to get out of being trapped into lunch with her sort-of lover’s former paramour, Betty plucked a file folder from the stack she’d swiped from Will’s office and pretended she knew exactly what she was looking for in it. “There’s a ton of work to do.”
Greg and Josie shared a look. Apparently no one in this entire company thought work was a plausible excuse to skip lunch.
“I was going to scan some of these, uh….”
Her train of thought derailed as she stared down at the stained and crumpled work orders and inspections sheets. Will’s handwriting leaped out at her. And if that wasn’t a ridiculous thing for a woman her age to get swoony over, she didn’t know what was. Of course, she could end all of the fluttering and confusion without having to be the bad guy. All she had to do was tell him she was developing feelings for him, and he’d take the decision out of her hands. Their affair would be over. It would be the smart thing to do. Eventually, despite their claims of mature adulthood and the crazed thought that she was capable of a strictly physical relationship, things would get awkward. And she’d be out of a job.
“Wow. If he’s anywhere near as gone as she is, this should be good.” Josie leaned into Greg’s shoulder as they stared down at Betty. “You said he was cagey on the phone?”
Betty’s cheeks flamed as she fixed her attention on the folder in her hands. It would be much easier to figure out a way to create order out of Will’s haphazard recordkeeping than to decipher the speculative gleam in his best friend’s eyes.
Greg wound and arm around Josie and snuggled her up against him. “That’s what caught my attention. Barely a word about her.” His easy smile downshifted into a stern frown, but the light never left his eyes as he stared at his wife. “He remembered you fondly, of course.”
“Oh?”
“Compared your breasts to grapefruits.”
Betty’s head snapped up and Josie huffed, her eyes wide with indignation. “I hope you set him straight.”
He pressed a smacking kiss to his wife’s cheek. “I did. Told him they were more like honeydew melons, then I told him to eat his heart out.” Grinning at Betty, Greg took a quick step back then ducked out of Josie’s striking range. Holding his hands up to ward off any advance, he backed toward his office door. “There’s plenty of work and plenty of time to do it. Enjoy your lunches, ladies.”
Josie blew out an exaggerated sigh as she watched him go, then turned back to Betty, a delighted smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. “I swear to God, they should both come with warning labels.”
Unable to resist the warmth the other woman radiated, Betty returned the smile. “I doubt it would do any good. Any label you could slap on them would only get torn off with their clothes.”
“Amen,” Josie said with a sharp nod. “Come on, we’ll get some lunch. I’ll even make Greg pay for it.” When Betty hesitated, Josie hit her with the raised eyebrows and a challenging smirk. “I promise I won’t pump you nearly as hard as Will does.”
Before she could think of a suitable reply, Josie closed one tiny hand around Betty’s wrist and tugged her from the chair. She was amazingly strong for such a small woman. Standing next to her, Betty felt gargantuan, though she was barely five-six. All her life she’d been surrounded by tall men who’d made her feel small. She imagined someone as petite as Josie had to develop an outrageous personality just to keep from getting squashed like a bug.
“Gracious. You’re as blunt as Will.”
Josie threaded an arm through hers as if they’d been best friends since nursery school, then grinned. “Greg’s more reserved, but we keep trying to corrupt him.”
“If Will hasn’t managed it in all these years, you don’t stand a chance,” Greg called from the safety of his office.
“I have ways Will doesn’t.” She paused for a second, shot Betty a sidelong glance, and then gave her arm a conspiratorial squeeze. “Or if he has, you probably need to tell me about it. Slowly, and in great detail.”
The shameless baiting scored nothing more than a snort of derision from the other room. Helpless laughter bubbled from her lips as Betty allowed the smaller woman to drag her toward the door.
“These two have the bromance of the century going. There’s no way I’ll ever believe they haven’t crossed swords a time or two.”
“Believe it,” Greg said, appearing in his office doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.
Josie simply grinned. “You’re southern, right? Maybe you can talk them into giving us some kind of reenactment.”
“There’s nothing to reenact,” Greg insisted. “You’re the closest we’ve come, and there was a pretty lengthy intermission between the two of us.”
Again, Josie heaved one of those toes-to-tresses sighs. “Isn’t gonna stop me from picturing it.” She opened the door and turned back to Betty, her voice dropping to a murmur. “I love it when he uses words like ‘lengthy’ and ‘intermission’. He just makes them sound so dirty.”
A laugh burst from Betty’s lips before she could stop it, and Josie’s smile gentled as she ushered Betty out into the spring sunshine. “Now, I have to warn you, I have a very vivid imagination. It’ll be better if you just tell me everything. That way, I won’t have to make it up.”
Chapter 14
Will fell into the seat across from Greg’s desk. “And you just let them go?”
“I had no reason to stop them.”
Will ground his teeth as Greg peered into the bag Will had dropped on his desk. Fast as a kleptomaniac at a cakewalk, he snatched the sack back. He’d bought the Tuscan chicken salad for Betty because she liked them. He sure as shit didn’t buy it for his useless-ass of a best friend.
“You know damn well why you should have stopped them. You’re supposed to be my friend.”
Greg leveled a patient look on him. “I’ve been a much better friend to you than you have ever been to me, asswipe.”
Ah, terms of endearment. Will felt a smile tug on his lips. He’d missed his old buddy while he was gone, though he’d never admit as much. “I count on you to be the better man.”
Greg stood up, circled the desk, and held out his hand for the bag. When Will didn’t give over, his friend waggled his fingers. “Give me the salad and I won’t tell you how many times Josie told me my dick is bigger than yours.”
Will cocked his head and met his friend’s challenging stare. “Aw. Is the little lady protesting too much already? I told her to be subtle about it.”
“Says she feels bad for you. I bet she’s consoling Betty as we speak. Reminding her about other fish in the sea, and all that good stuff.”
“Fuck off.”
“That is, if they’re done comparing notes. Boy, they sure have been gone a long time.”
Greg let the implications of his ex and current lover spending a long lunch dissecting his skill set hang in the air. As if Will wasn’t already freaking out over that exact thing.
“I hope you’ve improved with age, otherwise….”
With one last grunt for good measure, Will turned the lunch he’d so thoughtfully picked up for Betty over to his own personal Benedict Arnold. “Fine. Eat the damn thing.”
Greg snagged the bag from his hand and retreated to the other side of the desk. “Here’s a little tip for you: Never bring a woman a salad.”
“Betty loves those salads,” Will said, watching his friend pop the lid off the take-out container.
Cellophane rustled as Greg freed a plastic fork from its clutches. “She can or
der one for herself if she wants, but….” He pointed the tines at Will and fixed him with a stern, fatherly glare. “Even if lettuce is all you have ever seen her eat anytime, anywhere, you never, ever bring a woman a salad. Period. She’ll somehow turn it around on you, and the next thing you know she’ll be insisting that you think she’s fat and denying you sex because she doesn’t want you looking at her wiggly parts.”
Will looped a finger through the handle on the bag and pulled his sandwich toward him. “The wiggly parts are the best parts.”
Greg squirted a steady stream of salad dressing from a foil pouch then shrugged as he licked the excess from his finger. “Yeah, I know, but you’ll never convince a woman of that.”
Will smirked as he gazed appreciatively at his meatball sub. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”
“Seriously,” Greg intoned, dire warning giving the word extra gravity. “Besides, Betty doesn’t look like she has a lot of wiggly parts.”
“She has all she needs.”
“A-ha!” Droplets of dressing flew from the forkful of salad Greg thrust accusingly at him. “So you have seen her naked.”
Will rolled his eyes and hefted half of the messy sandwich. “Of course I have. I’m not dead yet, am I?”
His old friend rewarded him with a laugh. “There. That’s the Will I know.” He stabbed another forkful of lettuce, then speared a chunk of seasoned chicken like it was some kind of reward. “I have to admit, I’ve been a little worried about you lately.”
Without missing a beat, Will mumbled, “I’ve been pining for the one who got away,” through stuffed cheeks.
“If I believed that for a minute, I’d probably serve you up a few teeth with that sandwich.”
Will wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It turns me on when you talk tough.”
“You need to stop saying shit like that. Josie’s on some kind of homo-erotic kick, and I think she’s hooking us up in her head.”
He dropped the sub into the box. “Your wife is a sicko.”
“I tend to think it was her previous exposure to you that twisted her mind.”
“It’s been seventeen years. Isn’t that ancient history yet?”
