While you’re here?
Was she not looking for anything long-term either? Not wanting to ruin the moment by letting her know this had a definite expiration date, I pulled her back on the bed, burying my face in her neck.
“That sounds like a terrific idea.”
“Damn straight it does. Now chill. I’ll order dinner.”
I laid back down and watched her ass sway as she walked out. Phoebe hopped up from her cat bed and climbed back on the bed, settling beside with a yawn.
“Good plan, cutie,” I said, scratching her head before closing my eyes and relaxing until dinner got here.
13 - JENNA
It had been a million hours since the orgasm that shattered my life on Friday, and we hadn’t slept in the same bed since. So what if it had only been a little over forty-eight hours? Not that I was counting, but I was hoping movie night wasn’t a fluke. Granted Saturday, his poor man berries were the color of a ripe tomato, and he’d slept right through dinner until he left for the station Sunday.
Then he worked late, and I was asleep by the time he got home. I thought of going to sleep in his bed or locking him out of his room, so he didn’t have a choice, but that would be stalker-level creepy.
Could traffic cops arrest people for stuff like that?
I was on edge and sorely disappointed I hadn’t been the little spoon to his big spoon or gotten a better look at his pocket rocket. I mean, balls were balls. Some were hairy. Some were big. Some hung low. I’d never given them a second thought—but Mark’s balls were impressive. Just the right size, with one hanging slightly lower than the other. It made me want to lick up the seam to the underside of his cock.
What was the matter with me? Obsessing over freaking testicles?
He said he wasn’t relationship material. I wasn’t either, but there was a lingering seed of doubt in the far corners of my head calling bullshit. My hours were crazy, and my brain went from spewing useless facts and babbling to sleep-deprived. I had to force myself to make time for my friends because I was so tired most days, all I wanted to do was curl up in bed with a good book. But I always made time for them, and I could see myself making time for a relationship.
Making time for Mark.
Tonight was a rare exception. My morning surgery was canceled, and my first appointment wasn’t until after eleven. The day was shaping up to be a respectable seven hours. Later, we were all meeting atB’s Barafter work. Annaleigh and Max had officially made up, and they wanted to take us out.
I added butter pecan flavored creamer to my coffee, sat at the kitchen table, and glanced at the clock. I was going to enjoy the coffee, try to entice Gretchen with breakfast, take a long, hot shower, and try not to think about the damn letter on the table.
As if it was mocking me, I saw it peeking out from under a magazine. Sighing, I pulled it forward and read it once. Then I read it again.
Wilmington.
It was an offer to be theExecutive Directorand lead vet ofAll Four Paws.I’d implement decisions without someone breathing down my neck every time I wanted to spend money. It’d be a significant pay cut, but I’d be closer to my parents and my brother.
The director and I hit it off after spending a weekend volunteering while visiting my parents in Southport, but I got a sick feeling in my stomach each time I tried to talk about it out loud. My home was here. My clinic was here. My girls were here.
Mark was here.
It was stupid thinking about him. This was temporary. Especially if I was considering accepting the position, but maybe I should invite him out tonight. He helped Annaleigh, and I was sure Max and Edward would appreciate having another guy there.
I pushed the letter back under the magazine and stood up, putting my coffee spoon in the sink and opening the fridge for vegetables for Gretchen. I was debating between cantaloupe and zucchini when the doorbell rang. Phoebe peeked around the kitchen door, and I cinched my robe and scooped her up, padding to the front door.
I opened it to an older woman standing on my porch with a casserole dish and a smile. She had chin-length blonde hair going white at the temples and kind, dark eyes. I tilted my head and furrowed my brows, putting down the one glass panel on the screen door.
“Hi, good morning. Can I help you?”
“Oh, Hi, you must be Jenna. I’m Beverly, but please call me Bev. I hope you don’t mind me popping by. I was just going to leave a little something on the porch, but I saw your car and figured I’d knock. Is this a bad time?” she asked, holding the casserole with one hand so she could straighten the purse on her shoulder.
Something about her looked familiar, and I wracked my brain thinking of any clients that called me by my first name or knew where I lived. Phoebe squeaked, and I absentmindedly scratched her head, thinking as hard as I could.
“And there’s my little grand kitten. I brought you something, Little Lady.”
“Mrs. Hansen?” I said, reaching to unlock the screen door.
“Yes, I didn’t tell you my last name, did I? No wonder you have such a strange expression on your face. I made a sweater for Phoebe and was going to drop it by, but I saw your car.”
