Crazy Stupid Love (Dirty Dicks 3)
She gives me a look that says nice try. “Does it have anything to do with why you were late?”
“I thought we were done talking about this.”
“Mo was right. It’s a guy.” Claire shakes her head. “Only a man could put that look on a woman’s face.”
Tess nods, and my eyes dart between the two of them. “What look?”
“Like you got laid, and it was the best damn sex you’ve ever had, and while you’re basking in the glory of an intense orgasm, you’re also worried you’ll never experience it again.”
Claire and I both stare at Tess, and she shrugs. “What? I’m perceptive.”
Claire blinks and turns to me. “I was going to say the look of love, but I like her explanation better. Is she right?”
Love?
I love the way he hums when he’s cooking dinner. And I love the way he makes sure my gas tank is always full. I also love his sleepy smile in the morning and the feel of his hand curled around my hip at night.
But do I love him?
No way.
Right?
Lust, maybe? A strong like? Pre-love?
A thousand lies sit on the tip of my tongue, but these are my friends—my family—and I’ve stretched the truth enough over the last several months.
I nod. “It’s a guy, but I’m not in love with him.”
Tess hoots. “I knew it! And you’re totally in love with him,” she says, dancing in her seat.
With a gleam in her eye, Claire scoots to the edge of her chair. “Who’s the lucky man? Do I know him?”
“I’d really rather not say.”
“Is it Ben?” Tess asks.
“The sexy mailman? No. But it’s a compliment that you think he’d be into me.”
Claire cringes. “Please tell me it isn’t Joseph.”
“No,” I laugh, remembering the time Mo set Claire up with her accountant.
“Lincoln?” Mo asks, poking her head out from behind the curtain.
Talk about hitting the nail on the head. “What is taking you so long?” I ask.
“I need help with the zipper.”
I stand up and motion for her to turn around.
“Am I right? Is it Lincoln?” she asks, looking over her shoulder.
I pull the zipper up and clasp the hook at the top. “I’m not going to tell you guys his name, so you might as well drop it.”
My best friend, Abby, is the only person who knows about Lincoln. She even met him once when I needed an emergency pickup on the way to a clinical. I hadn’t planned on telling her, but, hey, a secret of this magnitude is hard to keep to myself.
Mo turns around. “Can I ask you one question?”