Red Lily (In the Garden 3)
“A little longer than it might otherwise if a woman’s got her hands on your ass.” She opened her mouth, but the way his eyebrows shot up had her closing it again, and waiting. “Right or wrong, Hayley. But I did tell her, before you came through the door.”
“Before? But . . . you didn’t even miss a beat, Harper. And the two of you were all . . .” She waved a hand, trying to find the phrase. “Touchy. And you kissed her when you went out to the car.”
His eyes narrowed. “You were watching us.”
“No. Yes. So what?”
“Too bad you didn’t manage to slip a listening device on me, then this conversation wouldn’t be necessary.”
She folded her arms and met his insult straight-on. “I’m not apologizing for my behavior either.”
“Fine. First, why should I have missed a beat? I wasn’t doing anything to feel guilty about. Next, Dory’s a touchy kind of person. She makes contact with people, which is probably why she’s good in PR. And yeah, I kissed her before she left. I’ll probably kiss her next time I see her. I like her. We have a history. We met in high school, ended up in college together—and ended up being an item for about a year. In college, Hayley, for Christ’s sake. When we stopped being an item, we stayed friends. If you can manage to whip some of the green out of your vision, you’d probably end up being friends with her, too.”
“I don’t like being jealous. I’ve never really been jealous before, and I don’t like it.”
“If you’d heard our conversation out by her car, you’d have heard her tell me that she hoped you and I would come into the city, have drinks, so she could get to know you. She said it was good to see me, and good to see me happy. I said pretty much the same, and I kissed her goodbye.”
“It’s just . . . you looked like a couple.”
“We’re not. That’s what you and I are. That’s what I feel,” he said when she only stared at him. “That’s what I want. I don’t know what I’ve done to make you doubt me, or that.”
“You’ve never actually said . . .”
He stepped to her, caught her face in his hands. “I don’t want to be with
anyone but you. You’re the only one, Hayley. Is that clear enough?”
“Yeah.” She laid her hand on his, turned her head so that her lips pressed to his palm.
“So we’re good now?”
“It looks like. Um, you told her you were seeing someone. I mean me?”
“I didn’t have to. When you walked back out, she punched me in the arm. She said, ‘She’s taller than me, she’s thinner than me, and she’s got better hair.’ What is it about your breed and hair?”
“Never mind that. What else did she say?”
“That it was bad enough I was blowing her off, but it had to be over somebody who looked like you. I figured it for some sort of twisted girl compliment.”
“A nice one. Now I feel guilty. I bet I would like her, and that’s just a little bit irritating.” She brooded a minute, then beamed. “But I’ll get over it. I’m not going to apologize, exactly, because—hey, hands on your ass. But I’ll offer to cook you dinner.”
“Sold,” he said without hesitation.
“Got anything in mind?”
“Nothing. Surprise me. Us,” he corrected and scooped Lily up to hang her upside down. “I’ll get shortie here out of your hair. We have some havoc to wreak in the other room.”
And just like that, she thought, her life was back on level. With the sounds of growling from Harper, and wild giggles from Lily rolling out of the living room, Hayley opened the refrigerator to examine the contents.
Pitiful, she decided. A total guy assortment of beer, soft drinks, bottled water, what appeared to be an ancient fried chicken leg, two eggs, a stick of butter and a small, moldy hunk of cheese.
She opened the freezer, and hit the payload. Several carefully labeled containers of leftovers. David to the rescue. But it was a shame she couldn’t actually cook something, impress Harper.
Who’s pitiful? He flaunts another woman in your face and you grovel. Now cooking for him, like a servant. Women are nothing but servants to men. Their conveniences.
He lies as all men lie, and you believe because you’re weak and foolish.
Make him pay. They should all pay.