Page 65 of Treat

“That one was pretty good,” she admitted, remembering. “Maybe it’s a tie.”

“I had a voicemail from Grant.”

She sighed, her romantic little bubble bursting. “Well, we knew that was coming.”

“He’s flying in tonight.”

She winced. “That can’t be good.”

“He’s got meetings here next week with lawyers about this embezzlement mess. Something about taxes.”

“The IRS?” She shuddered. “I almost feel sorry for him.”

“He wants to meet me for lunch tomorrow.”

To give herself something to do, she turned to check the steaks. “These are almost done. Will you get a couple of plates?”

He reached for the shelf next to her. “Do you want to come with me?”

“To lunch with Grant?” She spooned butter over the steaks then placed them on the plates. “Sure. I also want a boil on my taint.”

He snorted. “So that’s a no, then?”

“That’s a no,” she confirmed, turning off the burner. “There’s a bag of salad in there if you want some.”

“Sure.”

She opened the fridge to get it. “We have Italian dressing and Thousand Island.”

“Italian.”

“Got it.” She grabbed the dressing and a bottle of water for herself, then nudged the fridge door shut with her hip and carried everything to the counter. He’d laid out silverware, soshe dumped salad on each plate, then zipped the bag closed and returned it to the fridge.

She circled the counter, sidestepping Tilly—who was wedging herself between the stools to maximize her chances of catching falling scraps—and climbed onto the stool next to him.

“You’re not going to ask?”

She glanced at him. “Ask what?”

“What I’m going to say to Grant when he tells me to stop seeing you.”

It wasn’t unexpected, but hearing him say it had her stomach dropping to her knees. “I suppose it’s too much to hope for that ‘fuck off’ is a possibility?”

Jude’s grin was quick and fierce. “Only as a last resort.”

“He’s going to be pissed,” Brynn predicted.

“He’ll get over it,” Jude said, humor fading as determination darkened his gaze.

Brynn stared down at her steak, not really seeing it. “Your career is important.”

“Yes.”

“So is mine,” she continued.

“Also yes.”

With doubts spinning through her mind like tumbleweeds covered in razor wire, she looked back up. “Do you really think we can do this without screwing either one up?”

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