It wouldn’t be too difficult, he didn’t think, to get laid. A quick, anonymous fuck would ease the ache in his balls but that idea held about as much appeal as jacking off in the shower.
He wanted sex, wanted to feel a woman beneath him, her arms around him, rising to meet him as he rode her.
But he had no right wanting it from Bree.
She was his friend.
Bree said, “Colby?”
But he wasn’t listening to her. It was the third time she’d said his name and he was staring off into the distance as though something out there held him spellbound.
Sighing, she pushed to her feet. Pausing by his side, she stroked a hand down his hair. Before she could walk away, though, he reached out, caught her wrist.
“Where are you going?” he asked, without looking at her.
With a shrug, she replied, “Back to work. Have a few more clients to hit before I can call it a day. Besides, you need some time to yourself, don’t you?”
He lifted his head slowly, their gazes connecting. Something in her heart stuttered to a halt at the heat she saw in his eyes. Then he blinked and it was gone, as though it had never existed. “Yeah. Not a bad idea.” His thumb stroked along the inner skin of her wrist. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but what, she had no clue.
“Colby?”
He squeezed her wrist gently, then let go. “You mind if I call you in a few days? Maybe we could get a bite to eat or something.”
“Sure.”
When he let go, Bree felt the loss of contact clear down to her feet.
Get over it already. Get over him.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
If she hadn’t been able to make herself get over him as he married her best friend, she wasn’t going to force herself to get over him now that Alyssa was gone.
Chapter Four
A week passed.
Two.
Three.
She didn’t hear from Colby, didn’t see him when she went to take care of Alyssa’s flowers. By the third week, she knew he wasn’t going to call and she told herself she wasn’t disappointed.
She wasn’t, either. Not really. As much as she might have enjoyed eating a meal with him, she didn’t need to expose any more of herself to him.
So when it was time to head back out to his place, she did it during the week, figured it would be quicker, easier, if her crew went with her—the less time spent at his place the better. While her crew cut the grass and tended to the front yard, she was in the back, yanking up more of the stubborn weeds, thinning out the pansies and lilies, pruning the rose bushes.
“Bree.”
Her damp hair was plastered to her forehead and she just barely managed to suppress a groan as Colby squatted down in front of her. Flicking the sweaty strands back, she glanced up at him. Her heart skipped a beat and then started doing a happy little slam-dance in her chest. He looked too damn good, too damn tempting. Guilt gnawed at her. Desire swam through her. Need, lust and love flooded her.
After fifteen years of loving him, it was second-nature to battle all of that down and give him a friendly smile. Second nature. But today, she couldn’t manage it and her smile fell flat. “Hey.” She focused her attention back on the rose bush, snipping away until she was satisfied.
“I’m going to get something to eat in a little while. Tired of TV dinners or soup. You want to come?”
Bree blinked. Looked down at her clothes. The gray T-shirt had been clean that morning, but after a hot day in the sun—weeding, planting, watering and everything else that went with her job—it was now far from clean. Even a kind person would have to admit that she looked grubby. Stripping off her gloves, she stood up.
Colby echoed her movement and studied her, his head cocked to the side, brow lifted in question.
“I’m not exactly dressed to get much more than a burrito from Taco Bueno.” She skimmed her gaze over him, jeans and a clean black polo shirt.
His shoulders stretched against the seams of the shirt. Aside from those wide shoulders though, he looked leaner, pared down to muscle and bone. She could tell he’d lost some weight over the past year, but to her, he looked perfect. Gorgeous.
Mouth-watering.
She swallowed and hunched her shoulders, hoped the sport bra she wore would be thick enough to disguise how her nipples had gone hard the minute he said her name. Worried, she hoped she didn’t start drooling—wouldn’t that go well with the sweat and grime on her face?
“You look like you have something besides fast food in mind,” she finished lamely, turning to collect her tools.
“I don’t have much of anything in mind except a decent hot meal.” He glanced at the truck in the driveway and said, “Your guys rode over with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let them take the truck back. I’ll drive you home and you can shower. Then we can get something.” He gave her the smile that had been melting her heart since her freshman year of high school. “You’re not going to make me eat alone, are you?”