“Don’t get too excited,” she told him. “It’s decaf.”
Bobby set the cream down. “Oh, hell. What the flip, Marcie? I thought only little old ladies bought decaf.”
“And high-strung brides-to-be,” Mark said, walking into the kitchen, looking about as half-dead as Marcie. “Drastic actions were required if I’m going to survive until the wedding.”
“You want me to jump out of a plane, but I can’t have caffeine,” Marcie complained. “That’s wrong.”
Mark arched a brow. “I’m not seeing the problem.” He glanced at Bobby. “Can you help me roll the cover over the dance floor, man? I don’t want those guys moaning at me when they come to pick it up.”
“Sure,” Bobby said, without hesitation. Bobby had always been willing to help a friend. Last night had proven to Jennifer that hadn’t changed. She liked that about him. One of the things that had made loving Bobby so easy was liking him. Jennifer turned away, put the thermos in the cabinet, intentionally giving Bobby her back for fear her expression was a little too transparent—the “I loved you, please don’t let me love you again” feeling twisting in her stomach.
Mark walked to Marcie and kissed her. “And don’t you moan at me either, or I might have to turn you over my knee.”
“Promises, promises,” Marcie mumbled.
Jennifer shut the cabinet to find Bobby sipping the coffee and setting it down. He winked at Jennifer. “Pretend there is caffeine. It tastes the same.”
“It’s the jolt, not the taste, I was going for,” she assured him.
Before she knew his intention, he grabbed her and kissed her. “How’s that for a jolt?” he asked softly.
She’d let him know when she stopped vibrating, which might be several hours from now. “Bobby,” she chided.
He leaned close, his lips near her ear, his breath warm, his body hot and hard. “You felt good last night,” he whispered.
“Ready, Bobby?” Mark asked. Bobby pulled back and gave a nod to Mark, but his gaze was on Jennifer. “I’m ready.” He then pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, a boyfriend kind of kiss, not a two-week bedroom buddy kiss, and walked away.
“He’s ready,” Marcie said, the minute Bobby and Mark disappeared. “Are you? Or did you get your fill last night?”
Jennifer wasn’t about to have this conversation. “The only thing I’m ready for right now,” she said, “is Starbucks.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh.” She grabbed her purse. “I need to run.”
Marcie made a chicken sound. “Run is right. From Bobby.”
Jennifer scoffed and started toward the door, calling over her shoulder, “Why would I run from two weeks of incredible sex?”
But deep in her heart, she knew she was, indeed, running. Running because no matter how many times she told herself sex alone was enough with Bobby, sex was a way to end this on her terms, she knew she could only take so many of Bobby’s mind-blowing kisses before she got hurt. And she liked to think she was smarter than that, having learned from past mistakes. Yeah, she thought. She had learned how to get hurt by Bobby. She was highly skilled at it, in fact. So much so, that she feared she might be excelling at doing it all over again.
***
SIX HOURS LATER, with one emergency after the other, Jennifer’s short-term caffeine rush had long ago faded, and her lack of sleep was wearing on her quickly.
“You’re sure it’s allergies?” said Kate Wilmore, a sixteen-year-old pet owner of Roxie, the Chihuahua panting at her feet. Kate’s youthful features frayed with worry as Jennifer walked her to the door. Her father had gone to pull the car to the door.
“I’m positive,” Jennifer assured her, well aware from Kate’s fears from the exam room, that she’d lost a pet several years before to pneumonia.
“We told you she snored all night,” Kate said. “Right?”
“Yes,” Jennifer said. “You told me. The steroid shot I gave her will work wonders, I promise. Snoring is perfectly normal with allergies.”
The door to the clinic opened but instead of Kate’s father, Bobby stepped inside. “You said you weren’t going to tell anyone I snored.”
Instant adrenaline rocketed through Jennifer, all sense of exhaustion gone, but somehow she kept her expression unaffected despite the discreet head-to-toe inspection he gave her. Kate didn’t notice, she was smiling up at Bobby, her eyes lighting with teenage appreciation, and Jennifer couldn’t blame her. Clean-shaven, with faded jeans, a snug Army T-shirt and his blue eyes shimmering in a backdrop of sunlight, he looked country-boy sexy.
Roxie barked and huddled at Bobby’s feet. He squatted down and gave the pup a rubdown. “Hey there, cutie,” he said and smiled at Kate. “Yours, I take it?”
“Yes,” she said brightly, the worry from moments before fading away. “Her name is Roxie, and she snores, too.”
“Really?” Bobby said. “Small world. You know, when I was in college, I had a German shepherd that snored. The two of us together drove Jennifer crazy.”