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Ro opened the front door and Machiavelli rushed out, barking so hard her whole body bounced with each one.

He stepped out of the car. They moved toward each other and hugged for just a moment before pulling back.

Ro introduced him to me.

I had to unclench my fist to shake his hand.

Mac was right at his feet, still barking at him like he hadn’t passed the dog test. I loved her, the stupid Muppet. I picked her up with my free hand and she quieted instantly, her adoring eyes on my face.

I smiled at Aaron and it felt deeply unpleasant, but still I pressed on, “Why don’t you come on in for a drink, Aaron?” I asked.

He smiled in a very boy next door, aw shucks way, and I wanted to punch his teeth out.

“I don’t drink,” he said like he was apologizing for it.

Of course he fucking didn’t. I knocked back the rest of my glass of Scotch.

He just blinked at me with wide eyes.

I tried again. “Why don’t you come in for a cup of coffee then?”

They were standing together, shoulders nearly touching. He wasn’t tall, but everyone was taller than Ro, so I supposed that worked out.

“Raincheck on that,” he told me in the most affable way, “we have a reservation, so we kind of have to go.”

I was looking at them and no matter what she’d said, how she’d dumped me, it wouldn’t stop the feelings, the sense of ownership.

Mine, my gut called out, even as I watched that skinny little fucker drive away with her.

I was waiting again when she came home several hours later.

She was barely in the door when I started in on her.

“I don’t like him,” I told her shamelessly. “There’s something off about him. He’s not the one for you. I feel like he’s a liar.”

“Really?” she asked, sounding concerned.

Holy shit. She was going to value my twisted, biased opinion. I wasn’t a good enough of a guy not to use that to my advantage. “He’s too slick.”

“Really?” she asked. “That’s a bummer. I wasn’t getting that read at all on him, but I do trust your instincts.”

She did? It was news to me. Very welcome news.

“I find him to be profoundly exceptionable,” I added.

I knew I’d laid it on a bit too thick by the way her eyes narrowed me.

“Stop that,” she said, not unkindly. “No games, remember?”

I’d never once agreed to that. That was her thing. I would have played every game in the book if only I thought one of them would work.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

I WAS BRAINSTORMING with Dair, at his house. We hadn’t done this in a while, not since I’d been in mourning about being dumped.

Well, we weren’t so much brainstorming as I was venting at him about Ro and her new man.

He was gratifyingly sympathetic about it.