“Ohhh, you made notes,” Marie says, snatching the book from me with a grin. “This chapter has a lot of highlights.”
Liza plucks an onion tartlet from the table. “Is that the scene? You know with the?—”
“Gun, yes,” Helen agrees.
Rosa fans her hand in front of her face. “That man is hot.”
“He’s unhinged,” I point out.
“Fictionally unhinged.”
“That’s fair.”
I’ve always been ashamed of the type of romance I love reading, particularly after being married to Gideon. There’s an expectation that if I could ever bring myself to be sexually involved with someone again, that I would only enjoy soft and sweet. Vanilla, as the term goes. But I’ve always aired on the darker side, and the brief fantasies I have experienced since escaping Gideon aren’t that flavor. It’s another reason why I think I’m broken. Surely, I shouldn’t want this kind of relationship after experiencing the horror of my marriage? It doesn’t fit the victim profile people would expect.
“So, what are we reading for next week?” Helen asks. I must have zoned out for some of their conversation because the tray of nibbles is half empty.
“Already ahead of you,” Liza declares, grabbing a bag from the floor and handing out a new book. “Don’t forget to take note of the trigger warnings at the beginning of this one. They are extensive.”
“Is it a standalone?” Rosa asks.
Liza shakes her head. “No, a trilogy, but it’s completed.”
“Ugh, I hate cliffhangers,” Rosa grumbles. “At least the conclusion is already out.”
“I love a good cliffy,” I add. “Builds anticipation.”
“Speaking of anticipation, I was informed Samuel Davis asked you on a date—again—and you shot him down. Again.”
Helen snorts. “Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen.”
“I have not treated him mean, nor do I intend to keep him keen. All I want is for him to leave me alone.”
Rosa tilts her head and squints at the ceiling. “I’m trying to remember the last time he got a knock back.”
“Friday,” I mutter. We all laugh.
Duke lifts his head from his slouched position on the rug, a low growl rumbling in this throat.
“Looks like Henry is here,” Marie says.
He barks as Helen rises to her feet. “You still okay to take my baby tonight?” she checks.
I stack the empty plates and nod. “Sure, enjoy your evening. I’ll see you bright and early. Should I make an extra breakfast?”
Liza smirks. “I like you, Cleo, so much sass while still being respectful.”
Helen snatches her handbag. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a booty call. He will be gone before sunrise. Can’t have the man thinking he’s got any rights to my house or my body.”
“Or Cleo’s cooking,” Rosa adds.
“Indeed. She’s mine,” Helen agrees with a smile aimed my way.
The ladies bustle out the door, giving poor Henry hell as they leave. Duke stops his grumbling a minute later. “It’s me and you tonight, buddy. Let me get cleaned up, then we can go for your walk before bed.”
He puts his head to the floor and whines. I have never met a dog that hates exercise like Duke.
I ensure the living area and kitchen are sparkling before clipping him on his leash and grabbing a front door key. I set the alarm and step out into the warm evening. Duke strolls next to me at a lumbering pace as we do a circuit of the pretty grounds surrounding the house. We weave into the fruit orchard, and I pluck a ripe apple from a low-hanging branch, munching on it as I draw deeper into the shadows. Duke drops his head and emits a deep growl. I swallow the bite of tart apple and freeze before spinning in a slow circle.
