Enjoy the following excerpt for What She Needs:
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Con looked up from his desk to see Devon striding into the room. By the looks of him, he was good and pissed. Damn. Con had known this was coming and he’d dreaded it. “If you’re here to bitch at me, then get to it. I’m busy.”
Devon crossed the room until he stood on the other side of the desk, fists clenched at his sides. “Bitch at you? You upset Tory, Con. You booked Cancun without talking to me. And unless I’m mistaken, you looked ready to land a fist in my face this morning when you came out of the bathroom. So, I repeat, what the hell is wrong?”
Con scrubbed his hands over his face. He was frustrated with Devon and pissed at himself for being a complete ass. The hell of it was, Devon had it right. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dev.”
“Don’t give me the same bullshit you fed Tory this morning. I know you. You were jealous when you saw the two of us together on the bed. What I want to know is, why?”
Con stared back at his friend, his best friend. They’d been through some serious shit together. They’d both grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, but they’d worked their asses off and it’d paid off. They were successful and in love. What could be better? To have Tory all for myself. No, that wasn’t right. What Devon and Con had with Tory was good. It was whole. Wasn’t it?
Shoving that nagging question aside, Con said, “You’re right. I was jealous. I’ll deal with it.”
Devon frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Will you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks as if you’d be as happy as a fucking clam if I were out of the picture.” Devon planted his hands on the desk and leaned close. “I love Tory as much as you. I’m not letting her go.”
For a moment, Con was too shocked to speak. He could count on one hand the amount of times Devon had gotten up in his face about something. Hell, the man was always so friggin’ calm it bordered on annoying. “Christ, relax, will you? I never asked you to do anything. It was just a momentary lapse. I’m over it.”
Devon pushed away from the desk and took two steps backward. “You’re over it, huh? Then you won’t mind if I surprise Tory with a trip to Aruba for Valentine’s Day?”
Every muscle in Con’s body tensed. “What did you say?”
“The three of us in Aruba. I’m thinking of booking the trip today. In fact, maybe you should go ahead and cancel the trip to Cancun. Or go alone. Take your pick.”
Con shot to his feet and moved around the desk, a red haze of anger flooding his brain. “I already told you and Tory this morning. The flight is booked. The room is reserved. We’re going to Cancun.”
“And I told you it wasn’t your call alone to make. Tory isn’t yours. She’s ours. Get that through your thick skull.”
“So, what, now we’re going to make her choose between your trip and mine? That’s juvenile, damn it!”
“All I know is that I’m damn tired of seeing that look on your face when it comes to her.”
Con threw up his hands and shouted, “What look?”
“You want her for yourself. It’s so obvious it’s not even funny.”
Jesus, he really was transparent. “I never said that,” he hedged.
Devon pointed a finger at him. “You want me away from her,” he ground out. “Admit it, God damn you!”
Fury had Con speaking without thinking. “Fine! I want her for myself! I see you with her and my blood boils. I see her touching you and it makes me want to hit something. Are you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”
Devon shook his head. “No, Con, I’m not happy.”
Con cursed. He’d seen that look on his friend’s face only once before. They’d been nineteen, working dead-end jobs and trying to make ends meet. Con had come home to their shit apartment in a bad mood one night. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what had set it off. He’d taken it out on Devon, though. The final straw had been when Con had punched him in the face. He’d broken Devon’s nose. Devon had looked hurt—and not just physically.
“Look, man, I’m sorry,” Con muttered. “I’ll get my shit together, I promise.”
Devon didn’t look convinced. “You know this can’t work if we’re not both in it one hundred percent, right?”
Con shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. He was wrecking everything. Con Walker, always the screw-up. “I know, I know.”
“So, maybe we should do like we did at Christmas.”
Con stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“We leave the decision to Tory.”
“You really want her to choose between us? That’s not fair to Tory, and you know it.”
Devon shook his head and looked down at the floor. Con found himself holding his breath. When Devon’s gaze came back up to meet his, he could swear his eyes were a little too bright, a little too watery. “I’m not trying to get all sappy here.”