The Best for Last (Whispering Bay Romance 4)

“Not technically, but as a former wife of yours, let’s just say I know what I’m talking about.” She sighed. “I know you must hate me and I forgive you for that, but I’m just trying to be your friend here.”

She forgave him? What a joke. He didn’t hate her, though. Hate implied strong emotion and what he felt for her was barely more than mild irritation. Still, she knew how to get under his skin. He counted to three. “Really? You want to be my friend?”

“Is that so hard to believe? Think of all we’ve been through together. It wasn’t all bad, was it?”

“You mean like when I walked into your office to see you on your knees with your mouth wrapped around Ferguson’s dick? Yeah, good times.”

“I only did that because you made me!” She looked startled, as if she hadn’t realized what came out of her mouth until after she’d said it. She glanced around the restaurant but with the exception of an elderly lady sitting in the table next to them, no one paid them any attention.

He laid down his fork. “I made you give Ferguson a blow job?” He laughed. “Now that’s rich.”

She managed to reclaim her composure. “I had a long talk with my therapist the other day about you and it all came out in the open.”

“You talked to a shrink,” he said slowly. “About me?”

“How do you think I’ve been able to get past that disaster we called a marriage? What I did was wrong, I admit that, but I would never have cheated if I was getting the kind of affection I deserved. You might have been a good provider, and you were certainly no slouch in the bedroom, I’ll give you that, but a woman needs more. She needs to feel loved and appreciated. She needs a man who can express his feelings. Something you are totally incapable of. So, I overcompensated by spending your money and trying to get affection elsewhere.” She managed to squeeze out a tear. “My therapist says I was emotionally abused by you.”

Was she for real? He’d almost forgotten how special she was.

“Let me get this straight. You spent my money and fucked around on me because I made you do it?”

“You don’t have to be so crude,” she spat.

“Hey, if I remember right, you used to like crude. A lot.”

Her cheeks reddened.

Okay, so now he was just being a dick. It was way past time for him to walk out on this conversation. He stood. “Thanks for an enlightening lunch. Tell the realtor we’ll take the offer. We’ll split the money and never have to see each other again.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but he was already walking away.

#

A woman needs more. She needs to feel loved and appreciated. She needs a man who can express his feelings. Something you are totally incapable of.

He shouldn’t let her get to him. She was his ex-wife, for God’s sake. Of course she’d have nothing good to say about him.

Steve slowed his truck and got into the right lane. He was just a few minutes away from Panama City where he had a construction crew working on an addition to the local mall. Maybe he should stop by and check up on their progress. Pick up a hammer and do some real work. Not that what he did at his desk all day wasn’t work. But he’d love nothing better than to pound the crap out of something right now.

He parked his truck in the small lot across the street from the construction site. A cream-colored stucco building with a red-tiled roof caught his attention, but it was the sign above the door that made him stop cold.

His chest suddenly felt like it was on fire. Damn indigestion. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that fried grouper.

My therapist says I was emotionally abused by you.

He snorted. Right. Her therapist. It was probably some quack that Terrie paid a hundred bucks an hour to agree with everything she said.

Still…

She needs a man who can express his feelings. Something you are totally incapable of.

So he was a man of few words. So he didn’t like to go around wearing his emotions on his sleeve. What guy did? Actions should speak louder than words, right?

Except, Kitty was going to need those words. And soon.

He glanced once more at the sign. Dr. Joanna Carson, LCP, Family Therapist.

Aw, hell. He was probably going to regret this.