The little dog squirmed in his arm. Yeah, he could relate. “There’s no way I can build a tree house that quickly.”
“Oh.” Velma pressed her teeth into her top lip.
“I think I want a tree house. It couldn’t be that hard to put together. It’s just wood.” Sophie worked her I’m-going-to-talk-to-daddy-about-this tone.
“Maybe we could just get some estimates. See if it’s even possible?” Velma suggested.
Fuck a duck. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”
On no notice.
“This will be so amazing!” Sophie shrieked a shrill “eeek” sound. Troy grimaced.
Brek officially gave them three months before Troy filed for divorce.
“Why don’t you and Troy take a look at tablecloths. Velma and I will talk about the plan?” Brek suggested.
“You’re the best, Brek.” She snatched Buttercup away from him and made kissy noises at the dog’s face. “Isn’t he the best?”
“Of course he is.” Troy’s cell beeped as he spoke. He retrieved it from his pocket and scowled at the screen. Sophie, securely back in in her cocoon of happiness, pulled him behind her across the warehouse.
“Sorry about that.” Velma twirled another napkin ring on her finger, this one dark wood with burnt-on initials. “I didn’t think about how much work it would make for you.”
She slipped off the ring, and, damn, why did every movement she make feel like an erotic invitation to tango naked?
“Major party foul.” He growled. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened last night?” She swallowed hard.
Absolutely not. “Nope, but thanks for being here this morning.”
She paused. Took a deep breath. “I want to tell you… You’re right. I used to have a thing for Dean.”
This was not news to him. But it still made his heart shrink.
Her brows furrowed. “I never told anyone. Not even Claire. So, when they hooked up, what was I supposed to do?”
He did not want to discuss her infatuation with his friend. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, you’re right to say something. The thing is, I haven’t even really thought about Dean. Not since you moved in.”
Without breaking the thread of their gaze, he stepped toward her, boxing her in, and dropped his voice low. “That so?”
Her mouth opened slightly. “Yes.”
His blue jeans went two-sizes-too-small in the crotch.
“You want to reconsider how things went down last night?” He grinned his best smile. The one he generally reserved for picking up women.
“Your Jedi mind tricks don’t have power over me.” Her voice faltered.
He chuckled. Once again, her mouth said one thing, but her body betrayed her. “I guess we’ll see.”
“We should, uh, go help the bride and groom pick out their linens.” She pushed at his shoulder to get by.
Fuck, she was cute.
He planted his new motorcycle boots wider. “V, you can keep denying what’s going down between us. But we both feel it.”
