Naked Games (Hard to Get 3)
“Take your time,” Mary said as she looked her over. “Seriously.”
Catherine rolled her eyes and left the room. She tried not to think about Dean when her gaze strayed to her bed. God, how she wished he were there. She felt her stomach quiver in response as she imagined him sprawled out on top of her blankets, a delicious grin on his gorgeous face as he held a hand out to her. Damn, there went the tears again. Evidently, she wasn’t quite through. Yippie.
After she finished her shower, Catherine slipped into a clean pair of heather-gray cotton shorts and a white tank. She tucked her hair under a towel and went to find Mary. She was surprised to see the living room all spick-and-span. When she went into the kitchen, Catherine found Mary doing the dishes. “Might as well get a pot of coffee going,” Mary said when she looked over at her. “I think we’re going to need it.”
“I don’t want to talk about Dean,” she mumbled as she took the coffee can out of the freezer.
“Too bad,” Mary said as she rinsed the last dish and set in the drainer to dry. “You’re going to anyway.”
Catherine slammed a couple of mugs on the counter, surprised when they didn’t break, and asked, “Geez, since when did you get so bossy?”
Mary chuckled. “All part of my charm, hon.”
For the first time since leaving Ohio, Catherine laughed. The sound was foreign to her ears, but it was a start. Catherine looked over at her friend and said, “Thanks for coming over.”
Mary pointed to a kitchen chair and said, “Sit, while I get the coffee.”
Catherine did as she was told and sat down. She watched Mary pour the coffee and felt like a heel for being such a jerk. “I’m sorry for being a grump,” she said. “I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”
“We’re lucky to have each other,” Mary said as she sat across from her. “Now that we’re all lovey-dovey, what are you planning to do about the hottie who has your panties all in a twist?”
“I don’t know,” Catherine said, as she stared down at her coffee.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes,” she muttered. “I feel like my insides are being torn apart.”
Mary threw her hands in the air. “Then what’s the problem?”
“He lied to me,” Catherine gritted out. “He pried into my background and didn’t bother telling me about it.”
Mary winced. “Wow, you told me he didn’t trust you, but I didn’t think he’d go that far. What’d he discover?”
Catherine took a sip of her coffee. The hot liquid reminded her of the way Dean had made her the yummy hot chocolate. The coffee tasted like dirt in comparison. “He found out information about my real father,” she told Mary.
Her eyes widened. “Your biological father? Seriously?”
Catherine nodded as she related the story to her. “I’m the product of that monster, Mary.” She recoiled thinking about it. “I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“That’s crap and you know it,” Mary said, her lips thinning in anger. “You aren’t the product of anything except your mama and daddy. We both know that.”
She pushed her coffee away, no longer wanting it. “It makes sense why they didn’t tell me I was adopted, at least.”
“Yeah. They were trying to spare you the pain.” Mary paused, then asked, “So, Dean was a total bullheaded ass. What do you plan to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if it were my man acting like that, I’d want to smack him upside the head. I’d want to make him grovel a little, but I wouldn’t give up on him. Not if it’s the real deal.”
“It is the real deal, but—”
“But nothing!” Mary shouted. “I saw the flowers he sent. I read the cards. He loves you and he wants you back. Don’t you think you owe it to both of you to at least talk to him?”
Catherine frowned down at the table, considering Mary’s words. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
Mary reached a hand across the wood surface and laid it on top of Catherine’s. “Look, I don’t know him, but it doesn’t appear to me that he sees you as some passing fancy.”
Catherine remembered the stricken look on his face when she’d left. He’d looked as if she’d kicked his puppy. She didn’t want to think of him hurting. “I know he cares about me, but I can’t stop thinking about the way he went behind my back to dig up dirt on me. If he’d only told me.”