Page 28 of Just Friends

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Do you remember it?” he whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Oh, um…That night’s fuzzy; I was a bit tipsy.”

Even if his fingertips hadn’t been on her pulse points, he’d have spotted the lie. He wouldn’t call her on it. He’d use it to his advantage. She wasn’t a great liar by any stretch, which pleased him. He dealt with liars all the time.

“Hmm,” he replied. “I can’t have that.”

She took a half step back but didn’t shake him loose. “Why, your ego?”

Nope.“Yeah,” Weasel said. She looked surprised at such an admission. He grazed his lips against hers. Closing her eyes, she leaned into him; her lips responded, and he deepened the kiss. Her soft, curvy little body moved against him. A sweet sound escaped her that lit through him, and he reminded himself to stay in control and not press her up against the building. He broke it off well before he wanted it to end, and she stared up at him, those big green eyes reflecting the moonlight. Before she could speak, he spoke, “Goodnight, Miss Gilbert.” He turned and strolled to his car, hoping like hell this worked.

Nine

Rebecca watched Weasel walk off into the darkness as she tried to gain control over her breathing. Her fingers pressed against her lips making sure they were still there, and her body hummed with desire, a feeling she shouldn’t have for him. That was dangerous. Why did she tell him she didn’t remember? She no longer knew what she needed from him. One minute she wanted to kill him, and the next she wanted to climb him.

“Everything okay, Chef?” Dustin, a sous-chef, asked when she returned.

In a daze, she paused for a beat before responding. “Of course. Let’s get the shrimp started.”

Dustin observed her a beat, his hair standing on end in either a purposeful messy style or he had rolled out of bed and not bothered with a comb. “Yes, Chef,” he replied. When he moved, the arm of his chef jacket glided up revealing the sleeve of tattoos migrating to his wrist.

“Time on the beef?” she yelled.

“It’s out and resting,” Dustin said.

“Let me look,” she replied. Rebecca threw herself into the work and pushed aside any thoughts of Weasel. But the irritation must have shown, and Dustin kept staring at her.

“You seem, more irritated than earlier.”

“How so?”

“Well, you’ve been slamming pans around ever since you came in from talking to that guy.”

She shrugged.

“You wanna go get a drink after this and relax?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m gonna go kill that guy.”

He nodded. “Call me if you need help with the body.”

???

Frustration grew into anger, and by the time she served the dessert, she was furious with Weasel. Why did he have to show up here tonight and kiss her in the middle of a job cooking dinner? It’d left her tense all night. What was wrong with him? On her feet all day and now exhausted, sweaty, and worst of all, frustrated. She would give him a piece of her mind.

She tapped out a text.Where are you?

She tore off her heavy coat, tossed it into the backseat of her car, and downed half a bottle of water. The chilly night air was amazing after roasting in the kitchen.

Her phone pinged.Home.

Home? Where was that? She’d never been there, but recalled that he’d bought a cabin a while ago. Did he invite anyone from the group out there?

How do I not know where you live?

He responded with directions.

---