Page 20 of The Best of Friends

“You like him.”

Like that mattered. “He thinks of me as a sister.”

“Maybe,” Katie said. “Maybe not.”

“Trust me, he does. I heard him say the words.”

“He wasn’t looking at you like a sister last night. He was hovering. It was sexy.”

Jayne winced, and this time it had nothing to do with her wrist. “Don’t say that. Hope is the enemy when it comes to David Worden.”

“You haven’t been out with a man in ages. Months. When was the last time you got laid?”

Jayne laughed. “Don’t you have to be at work soon? Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

“I’m just saying, he looks like he knows what he’s doing.”

“Maybe, but he’s not for me. He’ll marry someone from a good family.”

“Who said marriage?” Katie raised her eyebrows. “I’m talking a night or two of hot sex. You do have it bad.”

“I know, but I’ll figure out a way to get over it. Maybe I could get into a clinical trial or locate some experimental medication.”

“Or maybe you could let him know you’re interested and see how it plays out.”

“Did you see ice in hell? Because that’s what it would take.”

Katie rose. “Fine. Be that way. Eat before you medicate and try to get some sleep. I’ll call you later.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Four

JAYNE’S DAY PASSED SLOWLY. After talking to her boss and arranging to come in later in the week to fill out the required paperwork, she spent most of her time waiting for her arm to stop hurting enough so she could sleep. Despite Katie’s food delivery and advice, the painkillers made Jayne uncomfortably queasy, so she settled on ibuprofen and hoped for the best.

There was even less on daytime television than she’d thought, which meant the afternoon crawled by. She called Rebecca, but her friend didn’t pick up. Jayne wasn’t sure if she was busy or if she was upset about Katie’s appearance.

About six thirty someone knocked on her front door. Grateful for the interruption, she hurried to answer it.

She hadn’t showered, had barely combed her hair. She had on sweats with baggy knees, a T-shirt with a rip in one sleeve, and absolutely no makeup. Which meant seeing David Worden on her tiny front porch was thrilling and horrifying in equal measures.

She tried to speak but couldn’t. Not when his killer blue eyes seemed to crinkle with pleasure and he smiled at her. He seemed taller, somehow, and broader through his shoulders. She half expected to hear movie theme music in the background.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, blurting out the words before she could come up with a slightly more gracious version.

“Delivering your car from my parents’ house,” he said. “Invite me in. I have food.”

She glanced down at the bags he held and inhaled the scent of something delicious. Her stomach growled.

“Come in.”

She closed the door behind him and followed him into her small living room.

“Great sofa,” he said. “I’ve been to a lot of places where a family would give you their best goat for a sofa like that.”

She cradled her cast in her other arm and stared at him. “What? Who would trade a goat for a sofa? A goat gives you milk and meat, although once you get the meat part, it’s pretty much over. If it’s female, you can get more goats. Who needs a sofa? You can make somewhere to sit out of dead leaves.”

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