Page 80 of Spurred On

Seriously?

“Because, honestly, it really is strange. Seeing the two of you here together.”

“Really?”

“Considering the fact that you’re dating someone else.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” Tibby offered a plastic smile. Her too-friendly demeanor took on a truculent, Gorgonesque aspect. As though snakes might, at any moment, spring, hissing, from her head. “You do know that he’s my man?” There was the hissing.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. And I don’t like to share.”

“Don’t you?” Sidney knew she should be annoyed by this altercation, but she couldn’t be. For heaven’s sake, the woman was delusional.

Tibby smiled again, something cold and hard and heartless. “Just a friendly warning,” she quipped. “Keep away from Cody Silver.”

“I appreciate the warning,” Sidney said in a blasé tone, but inside she was howling with laughter. Who the hell did Tibby think she was? Warning Sidney away from Cody? And how on God’s green earth did she expect anyone to take her seriously?

Granted, had Sidney been some green ingénue from an eighties romance, she might have been crushed and quivering after this clash with the sophisticated, wealthy older woman. But she was not.

Probably because Tibby wasn’t sophisticated. In fact, she gave the impression of a desperate woman dressing up as a lady of society and bullying people into accepting her masquerade.

It all left a bad taste in Sidney’s mouth.

It was a relief then, when after lowering her cautionary boom, Tibby pranced off to wherever the hell it was candy stripers in their thirties went after terrorizing hospital visitors. The break room, maybe?

Cody returned shortly thereafter, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and two slices of pie.

“Oooh,” Sidney said. “You had success in your foraging, I take it?”

“Great success,” he said in his best Borat voice. He sat at her side and handed her a coffee. “Cream, two sugars.”

She stared at him. How did he know that?

He winked. “I watched you at breakfast.”

Well. That was . . . thoughtful. “Thank you.”

“Two kinds of pie. Which do you prefer? Apple or lemon meringue?”

“Damn. They both sound good.”

He handed her a spork. “Let’s share.”

She grinned at him. “Mmm. My favorite.”

For some reason he stilled, stared at her.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Come on.” She nudged him. “What?”

A flush crept up his cheeks and he shrugged. “I just . . . You’re so pretty.”