“No,” Ford said, irked on behalf of all men. “I don’t.”
“Let’s just say he forgot the agreement.”
“He was aware of it?” Knox asked, his brows raised.
Chin tucking, she drew back. “Of course. I was upfront about everything.”
With sympathy, probably for the guy, Bray said, “But he got invested?”
She shrugged. “He wanted to get serious, I didn’t, so I ended things a couple of weeks ago. He’s been a little”—she scrunched her nose again and searched for a word—“persistent.”
“How persistent?” Marcus asked.
“Wherever I go, he happens to be there.” She waved the behavior off as trivial. “We frequent some of the same places, so that wouldn’t be a problem except that he acts as if we’re still together, and I’ve made it clear we’re not.”
Meaning the mistreated ex was getting in the way of her making a new hookup? Too bad for her.
Yeah, Ford tried to convince himself of that. Wasn’t working.
From what he knew of Skye so far, she was independent. Nice. Considerate. She wouldn’t abuse the guy, then mosey on like it didn’t matter.
And even if she did, the guy ought to accept her decision and move on.
Continuing, Skye said, “The unfortunate part of all this is that he has a few things at my house, and he just texted that he’s stopping by. I tried texting back to say I’d bring his stuff to him, but of course there’s no reply. I tried calling, too, but no answer.”
“I’ve never seen a guy at your house.”
Everyone looked at Ford.
Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Wasn’t like he kept watch on her or anything.
His buddies eyed him as if they’d never seen him before. Skye just lifted a shoulder. “You leave early for work, right? And a lot of times you only get home to turn around and head back out again.”
So . . . did that mean she was keeping watch on him? Ford wasn’t at all sure how he felt about that.
As if she expected the ex to show up at any second, Skye glanced back toward the street. “Once he’s here, it’s going to be hard for me to get rid of him.”
Marcus Bareden, a cop, made the obvious suggestion. “Maybe what you need to do is call the police.”
“Oh, no.” Dark blue eyes widening, she gave them her attention again. “I wouldn’t want to bother the police justbecause he’s being a pest. He’s not dangerous or anything.” She came closer, bringing with her the scent of sunshine and spice and all things delicious. “I have a different idea, but it requires a single guy.”
Again, everyone looked at Ford. He scowled back at them.
Still calmly reasonable, Bray asked, “A single guy to . . . ?”
“Pretend he’s my new guy. See, any one of you would do. I mean, Clyde would probably be intimidated by all the good looks and buff bods. Totally extra, if you know what I mean.”
Like a bunch of preening buffoons, his friends grinned.
“He’s persistent because I haven’t started dating anyone else. I’m thinking he’d take one look at any of you and accept that he has no chance of getting me back, and then he’d finally,hopefully, move on.” She put her hands together in mock prayer. “I promise it’ll be painless. All you’d need to do is hang around while he’s there, smile as if you like me—”
“We do like you,” Knox said, which prompted immediate agreement from the others.
“Aw, thanks, guys.” She beamed at them. “Wow, I should have intro’d myself before jumping in for favors, right? Sorry.”
Actually, Ford should have done that, but she’d taken him by surprise, showing up as she had, and then asking who was single.
Coming closer still, her slim hand extended, she said, “I’m Skye Fairchild. I live next door.”
