Page 130 of An Indecent Longing

“Uh-huh. Date last night?”

She could actually answer that honestly. “No.”

Trish looked unconvinced. “Well, I’ll just set these here.”

Those flowers mocked her from the corner of her desk all day. Especially since neither Ben nor Ian contacted her. Which was just as well. She would’ve told them to back off anyway.

She’d spoken to her dad that morning for a few minutes. He’d told her she didn’t need to worry about the threat against her. It’d been taken care of.

The double-edged sword of that statement had made her pause before hanging up.

“Is it true?” she’d asked. “What he said.”

She knew her dad would understand what she was asking.

“To some degree, yes.” He had sighed and she’d been sure he would stop. Then he added, “But there are always several sides to every story.”

Of course there were. She just wasn’t sure which side she should be supporting.

Which made not being involved a viable option. Then she could get back to her life.

Her safe, boring life.

Luckily, she had a game the next morning, against one of the better, more physical teams in their league.

She knew the game would be a tough one and by the end of the first half, she had bloody shins when an opposing player had taken her down with a slide tackle on a breakaway. And she practically dislocated her shoulder trying to block a woman who looked like she benched at least five hundred pounds.

She’d had to be focused but as she was running off the field at halftime, she saw them.

They watched from the parking lot, sitting on the hood of Ben’s car.

She immediately dragged her gaze away but not before she caught Ben’s grin and Ian’s steady gaze.

What the hell?

She wanted to demand they leave, wanted to know why they were there. Just to torment her? She’d thought she’d made it clear she didn’t want to see them but maybe she hadn’t.

And you really do want to see them.

She wanted to tell herself to shut up.

Well, she’d just have to ignore them. Maybe then they’d get the hint and leave.

For the rest of the game, she tried to keep her eyes off them. She managed. Mostly. And only because that beast she’d put on her ass in the first half had wanted revenge. If she hadn’t, well, she might’ve ended up with at least one broken bone.

But they didn’t leave and, by the time the clock ran out, her nerves were shot.

She gathered her stuff, ready to go over and give them a piece of her mind.

They were gone.

By the time she got home, she’d almost convinced herself they hadn’t been there, that she hadn’t really seen them.

Then she went to unpack her bag and found the bag of lollipops. They were the exact brand she kept in her office for the children. She’d been known to have one every now and then.

How the hell they’d managed to slip the pops into her bag was a mystery. One that made her smile.

Monday morning, Trish had an even bigger smile when she walked in with a plain brown paper package only slightly bigger than a box of cards.

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