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Mase opened his mouth, ready to agree to Holly’s request to scene with her. But to his surprise, his body failed to respond. Not even a twitch in his snug jeans.
“Thanks, babe,” he said regretfully. “Afraid I’m not your man tonight. I’m dog tired. Think I may be comin’ down with something.”
Her face fell. “Okay,” she said sadly. “Maybe next time, huh?”
He smiled at her. “Sure thing, Holly.”
He watched her walk away, her round ass working her tiny skirt. He shook his head at himself. Man, maybe he really was coming down with a bug, if he was turning down a guaranteed good time like that.
Xander caught his attention again by clacking his black fingernails on the bar in a swift tattoo. “Listen, Mase ... I hate to ask, but d’you think you could spot me a couple hundred? Just until the end of the month. I’m a little behind on my rent.”
“You need a place to crash?” Mase asked. “I don’t want a permanent roomie, but I’ve got an empty house.” And he’d even get a kick out of his neighbors’ reaction to Xander.
“No, man, thanks. I like my room, it’s close to the MAX, so I can get around the city. I just, ah, had some bad luck at the cards this weekend.”
Mase shook his head even as he pulled out his wallet. “X, you know you gotta stay out of those poker games downtown. They use marked cards, lookouts and every other trick in the book.”
He handed Xander three hundreds and shoved his wallet back in his pocket.
“I know,” the other man said wryly. “Maybe this time I’ll even take your advice. Thanks. I’ll pay you back as soon as, man.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mase said. “What friends are for.”
He moved, stretching his shoulders and sighed. “And now, time for me to patrol, make sure everyone’s behaving ... more or less.”
He finished a round of the club, including stopping by to admire Dack giving Daisy a hard ride over the back of one of the leather chairs which she was clearly loving as much as he. Mase then stopped in the office for a quiet moment to check his phone messages.
His father’s name popped up. Mase hesitated and then flicked past the message. No, not going there tonight. As tired as he was, if Harold Barnett ended up jabbing at him the way he nearly always did, Mase might very well end up saying something he couldn’t take back.
Only two weeks until the annual family summer birthday celebration. Mase wanted to be on good terms with his father for that. Harold might be a pain in his ass, but Mase was not ready to give up what communication they had.
His next call was from Dave. That one he took.
“Dave, buddy, what’s up?” he asked.
“Hey,” his friend said. “Uh, having another deal at my house tomorrow night. Appreciate it if you’d come. Not a big party, just a few people.”
“Really?” Mase was surprised. “Teri’s got you entertaining steady, huh?”
Dave snorted. “Something like that, man. Anyway, come by about seven if you can. We’ll grill up some steaks, drink a few beers and shoot the shit. Just kick back.”
Not like he had anything else going on. “Sure,” Mase decided. “I’ll be there.”
“Great,” Dave said. It wasn’t until he put his phone away that Mase identified the note in his friend’s voice. It had sounded like relief.
What was that about?
* * *
SATURDAY, JULY 26TH
Nat stood at the window of Dave’s upstairs back bedroom and gazed down into his back yard. In the soft twilight hues of post sunset, she could see a familiar stack of lumber, as well as an area of bare earth and a pile of paving stones. She’d looked down on those same supplies from Dave’s back porch—or at least a slice of them. The rest of the small yard had been pitch black.
Had it only been two weeks since she’d been down there with Mase? So much had happened since then. Enough that she should have been able to slot their tryst away where it belonged—in the ‘over and done’ memories. Instead of obsessing about him nightly and wishing she could have more.
She turned away from the window, and frowned at the room. It was stacked with boxes and plastic lidded bins, one of which supposedly held a set of drink glasses that Teri wanted to use to serve her special coconut-lime margaritas tonight.
Nat wasn’t really dressed for rooting around in storage boxes. She’d worn one of her favorite sundresses, a soft copper-and-cream batik print halter top that played up her hourglass figure and stopped well short of her knees, making it cool on this warm, sultry summer evening.
She’d even pulled out some of her good jewelry, the gold and diamond earrings her mother had given her for a bridal gift and the matching pendant from her sister, with some thin gold bangles on her wrist. Her hair she’d bundled up in a messy knot at her nape.
Naturally none of Dave’s storage containers were labeled. With a sigh, Nat yanked open the lid of the nearest plastic bin. It contained several half-empty boxes of golf balls and various other golf paraphernalia.
The next crate was full of trophies. With mingled exasperation and amusement, Nat lifted out a small gilded figure on a cheap plastic base. She took a good look and snorted with laughter. It was the busty figure of a nude, smiling woman, holding a baseball mitt low before her in a way that suggested she was willing to play ‘catch’ in a very basic way.
Nat squinted at the lettering on the base of the trophy. “Longest Hit 2012 Co-Rec Invitational,” she read aloud. “O-kay. I don’t even wanna know.”
She was reaching to set the trophy back in its case when she heard a voice behind her—one that sent a thrill of excitement down her spine.
“Snooping in Dave’s stuff, Natalie?” Mase asked.
With a gasp, Nat dropped the trophy. It fell into the bin with a clatter. She hung onto the edge of the stack of bins with one hand and turned her head to look over her shoulder at the man standing in the doorway of the room. “Mase.”
For a long moment she gazed at him, emotions rushing up through her so hard and fast she felt like a firework about to explode. He looked fantastic in his snug, faded jeans, boots and a cinnamon Henley knit shirt that molded itself to his powerful torso and biceps with a faithfulness that made her hands itch to stroke over the soft fabric. He looked better than any man had a right to—at least one with his lack of desire to stick around.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. She’d thought this was supposed to be dinner with Teri, Dave and Trev.
Instead Trev had arrived with a date, one of the brunettes from Dave’s party, which was fine with her, except that it left Nat feeling like the odd woman out. Now Mase showed up. Was he here to be with her ... or, oh my God, what if he had a date downstairs as well? Because if so, how the hell was she supposed to get through an evening watching him with another woman?
Mase raised his heavy brows, the lift of one corner of his mouth suggesting he found irony in her question. “I was invited for barbecue, babe. What are you doing here? Besides snooping through Dave’s memorabilia.”
She sucked in an indignant breath. “I’m not snooping. I was looking for ...”
She broke off, frowning as she drew a blank. The skepticism in his gaze deepened and Nat scowled, her face heating with a blush. “Drink glasses. Teri sent me to find Dave’s margarita glasses.”
His face relaxed into a grin, and he chuckled, a low rough sound that she remembered all too well. “Margarita glasses—Dave? Baby, you’re about as likely to find a live mountain lion in those boxes as you are foo-foo shit like that. C’mon, tell the truth. You came up to use the bathroom and got curious, didn’t you?”
He sauntered into the room, and Natalie set her hands on her hips, supremely irritated at his tone, and maybe at the fact that he was using this time to goad her instead of expressing pleasure at seeing her again.
“I did not,” she snapped. “And you can just take your accusations and—and stick ‘em where the sun don’t shine.” Wherever you keep your personality, she wanted to add.
She moved to the left, ready to step wide around him toward the door.
Only to find her way blocked as he sidestepped directly into her path, his gaze a mocking challenge. Instinctively, she lifted one hand to hold him away. Her fingertips pressed against the pad of his chest, hard and hot under his thin shirt.
When she breathed in, she breathed in Mase—warm man, laced with woodsy cologne and faint soap. It went straight to her head, and to all points south. And he knew it too—this showed in the heat filling his hazel eyes, the upward tip of his mobile lips.
“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “What are you gonna do now, frisk me? I told you, I wasn’t snooping.”
His gaze locked onto hers, he moved closer. His big hand cupped her hip. The other hand moved behind him, thumping into the edge of the open door.
“I know, Natalie,” he said, his rough voice soft. “I was teasin’ you. To tell you the truth, I think you and I’ve been played.”
She glanced over his shoulder as the door swung closed behind him, then looked back into his sparkling hazel eyes. “Played how?” And what game was he playing?
He smiled slowly as his other hand settled on her hip, bracketing her in his grasp. “Dave sent me up to fetch paper napkins. Said he stores his extras up here.”
Nat flattened her hand on his chest, the heat of his body soaking through his thin shirt. She was going to push him away ... in just a second. “I didn’t see any napkins.”
His chest rose and fell on a sigh. His breath gusted over her cheek as his gaze fell to her mouth. “Nope. Not surprised.”
He pulled her closer, so her breasts met his chest, and their pelvises aligned. A thrill of recognition and instant heat rocketed through her, along with visceral alarm. This was not good ... she just couldn’t recall why. Oh, my God, he felt so good. So big and warm and hard. And one of his hands was slipping lower, over the curve of her ass.
“No, I meant, there are no napkins here,” she said, pulling against his grip. “So that means you can go ... back wherever you came from.” Like across town. That would be good.
“I know there’re no napkins,” he said. “No margarita glasses either. Don’t think we were supposed to find them. I think we’ve been set up.’
“Fuck if I care, though,” he added, his voice gravelly. “Here I am and here you are—hot and gorgeous in your little dress and fuck-me heels. And if I don’t kiss you in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna go up in smoke faster than a briquette on Dave’s barbecue.”
Summoning her last bit of self-preservation, Nat turned her head away as he leaned down.
“I ... I don’t think us kissing is such a good idea,” she managed. Even though her mouth was watering for the taste of him, and her lips aching for the shape of his.
“Oh, I agree,” he said in her ear. She shivered as his breath tickled her sensitive ear.
“’Cause I fuckin’ love kissing you, Nat. We do that, and we’re gonna end up makin’ out, gettin’ hotter and hotter. Then I’m gonna have my hands up under your pretty little dress, on your gorgeous tits, and before you know it, you’re gonna be coming all over my hands and then probably around my cock, while you squeeze me so tight I think I’m gonna come my brains out.”
He nipped her earlobe, and his hand cupped her ass and squeezed. “Worst idea ever.”
Nat would have agreed, but he was sneaky. One moment she was gasping with pleasure as he traced the outline of her ear with his tongue, the next he was sweeping her hair aside to nibble on the side of her neck, right where it was ultra-sensitive under her ear.
And then he cupped her breast in his hand and thumbed her nipple.
So then she had to kiss him. It was either open her mouth under his and get his taste and heat in her mouth, or scream aloud her jumble of anger, frustration and sheer animal need. She tunneled her hands into his crisp hair, dug her short nails into his scalp and held him where she could take out everything on him, and where he could give it all back to her in luxurious, wet abandon.
He backed her against the boxes, and pushed until one skidded backward, creating a shelf for her to lean on. Then he stepped between her parted legs and pulled one of her thighs up and to the side, her foot propped on a box edge, her knee wide so he could grind his erection into the vee of her thighs.
Natalie moaned as the long, stiff shape of his cock made contact with her sensitive flesh. She tilted her hips so his next move drove him against her clit, which was already swollen and ready.
He groaned, his hand fisting in her hair, the other working her breast. “Ah, baby, you feel so good. So good. Been missin’ this.”
Nat yanked up the hem of his shirt, needing his skin under her hands. He was hot and sleek and damp, quivering as she stroked him. “You’d better not be here with a date,” she said, even as she shoved her fingers down the back of his jeans to cup his firm ass.
“Fuck no!” He jerked his head back, giving her a searing look. “D’you take me for that big of an asshole?”
We-ell, the jury was out on that one. But no, not really. And right now she was willing to take him for anything she could get. So instead of answering, she kissed him, hard and then pulled away to give him a challenging look. “Then what are you waiting for?”
His eyes narrowed, and she shivered at the heat and command that settled over his face, rendering it hard and taut. “You’re lucky I want inside you so bad right now, Natalie, or I’d have you over my knee right now, spanking your pretty ass til you apologize for being so bossy. ‘Course they might hear that downstairs—as I recall, you’re pretty noisy when you’re being punished.”
Her insides clenched at his threat, and he catalogued her response with those all-seeing eyes of his. “Take your panties off, baby,” he ordered. “Pretty sure you don’t want me ripping another pair off.”
“No. No more panty ripping.” She not only loved these panties, she needed them under her light sundress, or the knit would end up clinging in the crack of her ass. Thus, she’d worn lacy boy shorts in the same beige as her bra. Under his gaze, she reached up under her short skirt and used her thumbs to work the panties off, rocking from side to side on the box.
They slid down her bare legs, and Mase caught them, pulling them carefully over her sandaled feet for her. He set them on a nearby box, and yanked at the fastening of his jeans.
“Now spread for me,” he ordered. “Wanna see that pretty pussy. In fact, why don’t you go ahead and play a little while I suit up.”
She should tell him where to stick his commands, but instead, Nat found herself reaching under her skirt, and stroking her fingers into her wet folds, then up to circle her clit. As his cock sprang from his open jeans, long, thick and stiffly erect, she nearly came just anticipating it inside her.
Mase growled low in his throat as he yanked a condom from his pocket and rolled it over his length. He squeezed the base with one hand as he stepped between her legs. “Cock tease,” he accused, tweaking her skirt up with his free hand. “You know damn well I meant so I could watch, Natalie.”
“You wanna watch now?” she asked, her voice sultry. Exhilaration filled her as his gaze flew from what she was doing to clash with her eyes. His were filled with dangerous heat.
He leaned in to nip at her lower lip with the edge of his teeth, then ran his tongue over it in a hot caress.
“Oughtta make you wait,” he told her, reaching to cup her bare ass with his big hand. “Luckily for you, I want inside your tight little pussy too bad. Gonna fuck you hard, Natalie. You don’t want that, better tell me now.”
She nodded frantically, already opening herself for the prodding head of his cock. “Yes, Mase. Oh, God yes. Please.”
They both moaned as he positioned himself and thrust home, deep inside her clinging channel. He paused for one moment, sucking in a shuddering breath. Natalie could hardly breathe herself, so suffocating was the excitement and need arcing between them. He was every bit as big and hot and hard as she’d remembered, stretching her, filling her to the max.
And so much more than that, he reached deep inside her heart and filled her there as well. At this moment, he owned her. And God help her if he ever realized that.
“Wrap those legs around me,” he ordered. “And hang on. And you better keep your finger on your trigger, baby, ‘cause this is gonna be fast. You need me to, I’ll finish you off with my mouth.”
His words should have irritated her, but instead they were a goad as powerful as his cock driving slick and deep inside her. She had to come with him, or miss out on the glory that was Mase, his arm around her, his mouth on hers, drinking her in as he took her hard and fast, the pile of boxes rocking and creaking under her.
He lifted his head just enough to tip his forehead against hers, his hand tightening on her ass in a bruising grip, pounding into her so hard their flesh slapped together.
“Now,” he ordered. “Need you to come now, Natalie. Do it.”
“Mase. Yes, oh my God, yes.” Her body obeyed him instantly and at length, convulsing in secret pleasure around his driving length.
“Fuck yeah.” He stiffened in her arms, his movements jerky, his voice hoarse, breathless. “That’s it. Take it ... take it all.”
They strove together, neither willing to stop, to give in until they were exhausted. They clung together, Nat hanging onto him for support, Mase leaning over her, braced with one hand on the box behind her, breathing like a runner.
And everything was wonderful until he opened his mouth again.
“So, you want your spanking now, or later?” Mase patted her bottom before he let her go to pull out of her, one hand holding the condom.
Nat stared at him, an unpleasant chill penetrating her warm glow at the strange tone in his voice. Uber-casual, but laced with distance. “What?”
He pulled a faded bandanna from his back pocket and dealt with the condom, his eyes on her. He raised his brows in amused inquiry. “What, babe? You enjoyed that part before. We can have supper, then take this back to your place. I’m in.”
Well, he’d certainly been in, all right. And now, it seemed he was making sure she knew just where he stood in terms of any possible emotional attachments. As in, he was out.
This had been just another random fuck for him. Except, what were those shadows moving in his gaze as he looked at her from under his brows? Oh, my God. He was going to pull away from her. He’d done it before, why wouldn’t he do it again?
For once, she was going to be the one to leave first.
With an effort that took everything she had left, Natalie slid from the box, steadying herself with one hand as her legs trembled. She reached for her panties and crumpled them in her fist, so hard her nails dug through the thin lace and into her palm.
Then she tossed her head, her hair flying back to settle behind her shoulders.
“Well, that’s so sweet of you, Mase,” she said, giving him what she hoped was a smile of detached amusement. “But I think I’ll pass. You go ahead back to the party. Who knows? Maybe Dave invited more guests ... and you can find another woman to do later.”
Then she turned and marched away from him, and shut herself in Dave’s upstairs bathroom to put herself back together.
Doing so on the outside—hair, lip gloss and clothing—was so much easier than on the inside.
* * *
HE’D FUCKED UP. BIG time.
Mase stood in Dave’s upper hallway and leaned against the wall. Head back, he contemplated a cobweb strung in one corner, a small gray spider crouched at the edge of the web, waiting.
When an insect did happen along, that spider would no doubt deal with its arrival with speed, skill and aplomb. Probably wouldn’t suck a little sweet juice and then backpedal as fast as his sticky feet could carry him, telling the bug, sorry, he only wanted a quick bite, no more. But if the bug wanted to hang around, then he might be able to fit it in for another bite later.
Not to mention the bug would be stuck, while the pretty blonde who had sauntered into Dave’s bathroom, shut the door and locked it behind her, could leave at any time, fancy free. And from the look she’d given him after he’d made his oh-so-smooth post-coital offer, she would be doing so without him.
Mase moved his head just enough to thump it against the wall behind him in frustration. Fuck, what was it about her that tied him up in fucking knots, so that the more he got of her, the more he wanted? He rubbed a hand over his gut, which felt suddenly like a cold, empty hollow ... or maybe that was more in the region of his heart. Or his ego.
Because if he took more of her sweetness, that meant she got more of him too—what there was. The parts he was not keen on showing anyone, much less a woman he wanted looking up to him, not at him with doubt and distaste.
“Dumb fuck,” he muttered to himself. “Not good enough for her anyway.”
Not when the only place he could be a real man, enough for a woman, was in the walls of Club 3 ... where every encounter had a set of rules, and a definite beginning and end.
What happened at the club stayed at the club. And that’s where he and his dick should stay too.
Pushing himself away from the wall, he walked quietly across the landing, and down the stairs.
Dave was in the kitchen, a plate of thick, raw steaks in his hands ready for the grill. He gave Mase a wary glance and grinned. “You, ah, find the napkins?”
Mase jerked his chin toward the counter, and the picnic ware set out there. “Nope. Looks like you did though.”
Dave’s broad face reddened. He chuckled. “Yeah. Teri had some in her bags after all. The woman’s a little scary when she starts organizing things.”
“That’ll be good for you, yeah?” Mase opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Widmer summer ale. He twisted the top off to take a long drink. The cold beer slid down his throat, cool and faintly sweet.
“C’mon,” Dave urged, lingering. “You gotta give me somethin’ here, bud.”
Mase raised his brows. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Here, let me get that door for you.”
Trev and his date were out back with Teri, admiring the partially laid patio on ground level. Teri gave Mase a searching look and then frowned inquiringly at Dave.
Mase ignored them both and drank his beer. Let Natalie spill to her girl if she wanted to—the least he could do for her was keep his mouth shut. Teri had clearly been trying to shove him and Natalie back together, but he doubted a quick fuck was what she’d had in mind.
Natalie came downstairs a few moments later, looking fresh and calm—well, except for the pink flush on her cheeks, the puffiness of her lips, and the dust on the back of her skirt. Mase contemplated the smudge of dirt across the full curve of her ass, and thought about how much he’d like to have the right to reach over and brush it off for her, maybe give her a kiss while he did so and whisper how much he’d enjoyed putting it there.
Since he didn’t have that right and wouldn’t be claiming it, he drained his beer and put a smile on his face.
“Think I’ll have another,” he said. “Anyone else?”
Dave opened the barbecue, letting out a puff of smoke. “You can bring me one.”
“Me too,” Trev called.
Teri marched across the porch, and caught Natalie’s arm to tow her along into the house. “No thanks. We’re having margaritas.”
“Oh,” Natalie said dryly, “Did you find the glasses?”
“Forgot I had them in my stuff,” Teri said, sounding no more convincing than Dave.
A few steps behind them, Mase smiled to himself as he headed for the fridge. “Hope they’re strawberry,” he commented.
Both women turned from the area of the counter set up with blender and drink supplies. “You like strawberry margaritas?” Teri glanced curiously from him to Nat, who was glaring.
That he didn’t mind—he could take her anger. Anything was better than that hurt, slapped look she’d worn for that half a minute upstairs, before she pulled herself together and walked away. Better that she consider him an asshole than that she was the one lacking in any way.
“Yeah,” he said, holding her gaze. “I sure do like strawberry.”
Then he grabbed three fresh beers and headed back outside, away from temptation. And prayed that the damn margaritas would be any flavor besides strawberry.
Watching Natalie sip on a pink frozen concoction all evening, remembering how she’d tasted with them on her lips, might just break him. It would sure as hell send him either running, or to his knees, to tell her he’d promise damn near anything to get more of her. And he wasn’t sure there was any more, that she would want.
It was gonna be a long evening.
* * *
FOR NATALIE, THE EVENING was surreal.
She see-sawed between misery—Mase had as good as announced that he wanted to fuck her, but nothing more—and a kind of knife-edged pleasure. She could sit across the table from him and look at him as much she wanted. She could listen to his rough voice and his warm chuckle as he traded funny stories about work with Dave and Trev, and quips with Teri and Trev’s date, whose name was Nicki.
With herself, he traded guarded looks, both of their gazes colliding, then sliding away. Neither of them apparently able to bear too much visual contact.
And if the rest of her was on high alert, remembering how those big, tanned, capable hands had touched her, and how those strong arms had held her so close while he pounded into her, how that ‘stache and goatee felt on her skin ... well, no one needed to know that but her, right?
Except she was pretty sure she wasn’t fooling Teri or Dave. They alternated between studying her and Mase like a science experiment and exchanging covert looks with each other.
Natalie drank her coconut-lime margarita and forced as much supper as she could manage past the constriction in her throat. If she hung around Mase much more, she was going to lose those extra few pounds just like that.
She looked up from draining her glass to find everyone staring at her. Mase most of all, his brows knit together, a frown on his face as he gave her a searching look.
“What?” she asked, her glass frozen in midair.
“Teri was just telling me that you own a bar,” Mase said.
“Yeah,” she said, setting her glass down with a thump. “I do. What about it?” ‘Not like you’re interested in really getting to know me,’ she added silently, glaring.
He gestured. “All ears. Tell me about it.” ‘Or I’ll say something you’ll regret,’ his narrowed gaze promised.
She raised an eyebrow back at him. ‘You sure you wanna get that personal?’
Dave cleared his throat, and Natalie recalled they had an audience. A fascinated one, from the looks darting back and forth.
“It’s called Rambles,” she said. “On the south edge of River Ridge. I’ll be opening in a few weeks.”
“Hey,” Trev’s date said, “I’ve been there. Didn’t Cassidy Roden’s brother used to own that place?”
Natalie stiffened. “Yes,” she said. “He did—with me.”
Mase’s head rocked back as if she’d punched him. She watched his look of surprise turn to shocked comprehension. “Fuck me. You’re Roden’s widow.”
Nicki gasped. Trev frowned at Natalie as if she’d grown a second head.
“That’s me,” Natalie said. She looked from Mase to Trev to his date, who glanced away, looking embarrassed. “Anything else anyone would like to know?”
Teri moved, reaching to pat Natalie’s arm. “Hon, it’s okay. Among friends here. Of course no one has anything to say, except congratulations on re-opening a great bar.”
“Absolutely,” Mase said. But his tone was absent, as if his thoughts were elsewhere, and he was staring at his empty beer bottle as he turned it in his hand.
That was fine with her. She had nothing left to say to him either.
Nat shot out of her chair, holding her plate and glass. “Time for me to call it a night,” she said. “Lots to do tomorrow.” Then she turned tail and hurried into the house.
Teri followed her, of course. She gave Nat a hug before letting her go on the front porch.
“I’m sorry if Dave and I caused trouble,” she said. “I just thought ... you and Mase seemed like such a good match.”
“What?” Nat asked, avoiding her friend’s gaze. “Nothing happened.”
“Yeah,” Teri brushed at the back of Nat’s skirt. “That’s why you have dust from Dave’s boxes all over your ass.”
“Crap,” Nat muttered, swiping blindly at her skirt. “I knew that cop was smirking. He could’ve told me.”
“Men never do,” Teri said. “Spent most of a wedding reception once with the back of my flutter skirt caught in my tap pants. My date didn’t say a thing. Last time I went out with him.”
They exchanged a look of commiseration that turned to a snicker.
Nat paused with one hand on the porch railing. “Anyway, it’s just not gonna work. With Mase and me. He can’t get out of there fast enough.”
“Okay,” Teri said, her voice subdued. “Bye, hon. Drive carefully. I’ll be home later.”
“Don’t come back just on my account,” Nat said. “I’ll be fine.”
And she would ... sooner or later.