Page 50 of When You Are Mine

He’d known a romantic relationship would only ruin the friendship they’d always shared, but Sofie had been available, willing, and hungry. And the woman he really wanted…

He and Sofie were both living a little wild. Every night took him further down a path he wasn’t sure he wanted to travel anymore. Sure, the liquor, sex, and parties had dulled the pain, but it never went away. And in the process of trying to forget, he was losing too much of himself. He’d probably already damaged his friendship with Sofie beyond repair. He had to end things, and sadly, hurting her was unavoidable. Who knew what boneheaded move he’d make next if he didn’t pull himself back into check?

“Mornin’,” a husky voice drawled at his back. Walsh stiffened, shocked when a silky thigh slid between his legs from behind. “Youare something else.”

Walsh looked in slow dread over his shoulder, jumping a little when he saw the beautiful face and perfectly rumpled auburn bedhead hair. She rose up on her elbow, a grin stretching across her face.

“Um, who are you and why are you in my bed?” Walsh’s voice croaked like a hungover toad’s. His vocal chords must have atrophied overnight.

“Wow, you really were out of it, huh?” She gave him a naughty look and laugh. “Your girlfriend wanted to play some three-way. Ring a bell?”

“Honestly, no.” Walsh snapped his teeth together over a curse. “Did we, um, did I…I don’t remember anything. Maybe you could fill in the blanks?”

“First blank, it seems, is my name.” She had the nerve to sound offended. “I’m Lynda.”

“Nice to meet you, Lynda. I need you to get the hell outta my bed.” Anger roughened Walsh’s voice even more.

“You got some nerve. First you pass out before I even get any action—”

“Thank God for that.” Walsh celebrated the first good news of the morning. “So we didn’t have sex? Nothing personal. I just like to actually remember the women I’ve had sex with.”

“We got pretty far, but I guess all that vodka you kept downing caught up with you.” Lynda crinkled her face and rolled her eyes. “You weren’t really…um…upfor the challenge.”

Walsh never thought that particular insult would make him happy, but he gulped with relief.

“Mornin’, Lynda. Mornin’, Walsh,” Sofie rasped from the other pillow, her voice still roughened with sleep and liquor. “Walsh, baby, can you fix us some coffee? My head kills.”

“Sofie, what the fuck.” Walsh spoke as loudly as his pain-addled head would allow. “I get drunk and you pull me into a three-way with some chick?”

“The chick’s got a name,” Lynda piped up from the rear.

“I told you to get dressed and get out,” Walsh said over his shoulder to the half-naked succubus behind him. “I don’t even know this woman, and you coerce me into bed with her?”

“You were safe.” Sofie sat up, stretching her arms over her head, letting the sheet fall to display her naked breasts. “Check the one-eyed monster. He’s covered.”

Walsh jerked the covers aside, confirming that he was completely naked, wearing nothing but an apparently unused condom. Walsh released a breath he’d been caging in his chest. He climbed over Sofie, graceless and awkward, wrapping the sheet around his waist in belated modesty.

He paused by his discarded suit pants on the floor, reaching down to grab his wallet from the pocket. He extracted a hundred-dollar bill, walking back to the bed and offering it to Lynda.

“What’s this for? I’m not a prostitute.”

“I know.” Actually he didn’t know for sure, but he needed to placate her into a peaceful, drama-free departure. “I was rude, so let me cover your cab fare. It’s the least I can do.”

Lynda grinned, her open, outstretched palm waiting.

“When you put it that way.”

She unfolded her shapely self out of the bed, slid into her jeans, and bent to retrieve her shoes from beneath the bed. He had to admit it was a nice rear view, but he wasn’t even tempted. He strolled back toward his awaiting showerheads, praying their powers of rejuvenation would get him in gear. He had a flight to catch.

Aw, damn. To North Carolina.

He wouldn’t be able to avoid Kerris. It was Cam’s birthday, and there was a party tonight. And it just so happened to coincide with Unc’s summons home. Uncle James wanted him to go to Haiti. He was ready to move forward on their plans for an orphanage there.

Walsh was eager to do some globetrotting for the foundation. He’d been benched too long finalizing the Merrist acquisition, which had stopped and stalled so many times over the last year he’d lost count. He had been to Kenya only one other time since Iyani’s funeral. He’d actually taken Cam with him. That was a compromise that allowed him to see Cam without having to see Kerris. As a courtesy, he’d invited Kerris along and held his breath until Cam told him she’d refused. Was she avoiding him, too?

Dammit, Kerris, why didn’t you listen to me?

His front door slammed. Lynda was gone. Sofie had drifted back off to sleep, and he was headed for a much-needed shower. Walsh stepped under currents of life-giving liquid force coming from every direction.

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