Perfect Fling (Serendipity's Finest 2)
“Thank you,” she said, immediately horrified. Had she really just said that?
That earned her a sexy grin she’d never forget.
“Back to my original point. We go way back. So no, I didn’t expect you to sneak out,” he said. “Regrets?” he asked, surprising her with both the question and the suddenly defensive edge to his voice.
She immediately shook her head. “None.” It saddened her that he’d think she’d have them.
Not that it surprised her. No one in town had welcomed him with open arms, and if anyone found out about last night, they’d think she’d lost her mind. And if her brothers discovered her secret . . . She refused to go there. If regret hadn’t kicked in yet, she doubted it would. And she wouldn’t want him to think she was embarrassed that she’d slept with him.
“You surprise me,” he admitted, studying her intently. “And I didn’t think there was much left in this world that could.”
He sounded as if he’d seen and done too much in his lifetime. A part of her wanted to reach out and soothe his hidden pain. But before she could dissect her thoughts or, heaven forbid, act on them, he spoke.
“But your instincts about me were right on. I’m not much for long, drawn-out morning-afters.”
Disappointment stabbed her in the heart, and that was too dangerous to even contemplate for long. “Glad to know I’m still on my game,” she said, forcing flippancy when she felt anything but.
Now that it was time to say good-bye, it wasn’t just awkward; it hurt a little more than she’d imagined it would. Which was what she got for thinking she could handle a one-night stand with a guy she’d always had somewhat of a thing for. No matter how young she’d been at the time.
“Since it was just a one-night stand, you won’t have to worry about a repeat performance.” She tossed the words as flippantly as she could manage.
“Pity,” he murmured.
She jerked in surprise.
Just as she was wondering if she had the nerve to ask him to turn around so she could get dressed, he flipped the covers off himself and rose from the bed—stark, gloriously naked.
All thoughts fled from her brain. She tried to swallow and choked instead, ending up with another blush as she continued to cough until the spasm passed.
“And that just confirms why it has to be one night only,” he muttered low, obviously more to himself than to her.
Erin hated puzzles and enigmas. “What does that mean?” she asked.
“Erin, honey, in a world where nothing and no one is what they seem, you’re real. And that makes you dangerous.”
“More riddles,” she told him.
He ignored her. Strolling over to the dresser, he opened a drawer and tossed her a pair of drawstring sweats and a faded gray T-shirt. “Here. You’ll be more comfortable—not to mention less conspicuous—leaving in these.”
She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
He gestured to the open door in the corner. “Bathroom’s there. Towels for the shower are in one of the drawers. Take your time,” he said, and padded toward the small kitchen not far away in this small apartment. Nude. Clearly he was a man comfortable in his own skin.
She shook her head, pushing away all thoughts unconnected to the rush to shower, dress, and leave. Any emotions or lingering feelings could wait until she was alone. At which point she’d do her customary internal summarizing of events and tuck this episode away in her memory banks for safekeeping, never to be revisited again—except on long, lonely nights when it was just her and her vibrator. Because everything inside her knew, despite his brush-off and surly attitude this morning, Cole had set the bar way too high for any man who came after him.
And Erin had already set it pretty damned high on her own.
THREE MONTHS LATER . . .
If this case didn’t end soon, Erin would either pass out on the desk in front of the judge, the jury, and the entire courtroom or she’d throw up on
her brand-new shoes. It was a toss-up which would happen first. Judge White, whose hair matched his name, droned on with jury instructions, while for Erin, the next twenty minutes passed in a blur of nausea and exhaustion. Finally she heard the blessed sound of the gavel adjourning them for the day and she dropped her head to the table with a thud.
“Don’t worry, I took notes on everything the judge said and there wasn’t anything we didn’t anticipate or I’d have objected,” Trina Lewis, Erin’s second chair for this trial, assured her.
“Thanks,” Erin mumbled into the desk.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Bathroom before we go home?”