Page 29 of Thornhill Road

She pulled into the lot right on time, taking the spot next to mine.

Jenna was a honey-brunette, her hair grown out a few inches past her shoulders and styled in a layered cut. She complained about how straight it was, but it was thick, so she had that going for her. That and so much else.

Aside from the adorable smattering of freckles sprinkled across her nose, she had dark hazel-green eyes and great eyebrows. She also had a beautiful smile. When she got out of her car, she aimed it right at me.

“Hey, you’re early. You’re also pacing around like a caged animal, what’s up?” she asked on a laugh.

I swept a bit of hair behind my ears and met her in the space between our vehicles.

“I have a confession to make. And I don’t really want to talk about it, but I do need to tell you, because if I don’t, I’ll just think about telling you the entire time we’re in there, and it’ll ruin our whole conversation, so I’m getting it out of the way now.”

“Okay,” she said, nonplused. “Let’s hear it.”

“I got a new patient this week. His name is Ed, and he’s all alone—as in, the only people who come in and out of his houseare the woman who does his laundry and me. And his house is sad. No pictures anywhere.

“When I asked him about any loved ones, he told me his wife was dead and his son didn’t even know he was sick. Then I found out his son is local. He’s the owner of Steel Mustang.”

Jenna’s eyebrows shot up at this new revelation.

“Yeah, I know. So, I got this wild hare of an idea to stop by and see if I could get him to visit his dying father. Well, turns out, he’s not interested in that. Not even a little bit. But what he is interested in isme.”

Jenna tried, and failed, to hide her smile. Still, she didn’t interrupt.

“Get this—he meets me at his dad’s house Friday night, and he tells me maybe he’ll think about talking to the man if I go out with him. So, like an idiot, I say yes.

“Now, here’s the part where I have to tell you—this man is not even a little bit ugly. And he smells really great. He also has a mom tattoo I am fairly certain is not the least bit ironic, which isverysweet.”

Jenna was now grinning.

I sighed.

“I slept with him. I broke my number one rule. And then I snuck out this morning like a jack-hole.” I smacked my palm against my forehead and held it there for a moment. After I gathered myself, I finished, “Anyway—the truth is, I’m kind of bummed about it, but it’s probably for the best that I got out of there, because he’s exactly the kind of guy I’d fall in love with, and we both know I need to stop picking the same guy over and over again.

“Okay. That’s it. That’s all. Let’s go.”

I turned to head inside, but she called, “Wait, wait, wait!” so I stopped.

“Just one question.”

I nodded.

“How was the sex?”

My shoulders sank, the memory still very fresh in my mind.

“We went one round. I came three times.”

I didn’t look at her response but made my way into the salon.

It took her a couple seconds, but she followed me inside.

We browsed polish color options for a good ten minutes before we were both happy with our selections. She chose white. I picked blue, then told myself it had nothing to do with the fact that Mustang’s Harley was almost the exact same shade.

The salon wasn’t too busy, so we were seated in our massage chairs in no time. While they filled the soaking tubs with water, Jenna filled me in on a bit of hospital gossip. She always liked to tell me the latest, and I usually got a good laugh or gasp at it.

When we reached our first lull in the conversation, our technicians busy scrubbing at our feet, Jenna asked, “Tess, what if he never goes to talk to his dad? Does that put him back in bounds?”

There’d been no segue, but I was quick to follow her anyway.

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