Divorced, Desperate, and Delicious

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

  

He made it all the way to the entryway before every instinct inside him screamed to stop. He swung around, stormed back into the kitchen and dropped his gun beside the phone.

Lacy stood by the kitchen sink, her arms wrapped around her middle, her blue eyes filled with indecision, hurt, and leftover fear.

“Jessie sees her ex-husband four days a week,” he tossed out, deciding just to lay down the ugly truth. “She’s planning on remarrying him next month. And when she does, I’ll send her a wedding gift. Hell, she’ll probably send me a wedding invitation. She knows I see other women. She doesn’t care. Hasn’t ever cared. What we had was . . . was convenience and casual sex. And it was all about to end anyway.”

He raked another palm over his face, realizing how cold and uncaring his relationship with Jessie sounded. He’d used her. She’d used him. Then he accepted it as exactly that—cold and uncaring. And unsatisfying.

He’d drawn more pleasure bringing Lacy to climax and keeping his pants on than he’d ever found naked and buried navel-deep in Jessie. In two days he’d shared things with Lacy that he’d never shared with Jessie. He’d told Lacy about his parents and his sister.

You haven’t told her about Sarah.

The thought hit him upside the head. But I will eventually, he answered back.

Hell, he’d even told her about his skunk. And while he hadn’t even gone all the way with her, he’d mentally stamped her as his. He’d warned off Jason, and the vet and the FedEx guy could just go to Hell, because he wasn’t going to give her up without a fight.

“You know what?” she asked, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. “It’s not important. This entire conversation doesn’t matter fiddlesticks. I don’t even know why I asked.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. By God, if he could admit what was happening, then so could she.

The phone rang and Lacy reached over and jerked it up. “Speaking,” she practically growled. “Yes, that will be fine.”

Chase listened while his insides churned. Was it Eric again? Had Lacy just agreed to go to dinner and share a lustful dessert with her impatient vet? He paced the kitchen once and decided without question that Lacy Maguire wasn’t going to be sharing sin with anyone but him.

He moved past her again, the temptation to snatch the phone from her hands growing stronger, but one look at the squint of her eyes and he decided against it. He’d never considered himself a good leader of the female mind, but something told him he wasn’t the only one having a difficult time facing this thing happening between himself and Lacy. If he pushed, she’d push back. And right now, the only pushing he wanted to do was with both of them naked in bed.

Chase rubbed his shoulder, which had throbbed since breakfast. Lacy put the phone down. She leaned her forehead against the fridge. Then slowly she turned to face him, opened her mouth to speak, and . . . stopped.

“Is it hurting?” she asked, gesturing toward his shoulder as he attempted to massage the ache away.

“Some.” He saw the anger in her eyes fade to concern. He’d take concern hands down over her anger. So he grimaced a little harder than before.

She sucked in her bottom lip and seemed to consider her next words. “Come on. Let’s clean it again.”

Chase followed her into the master bathroom. The anger they’d shared seconds earlier seemed to have stayed in the kitchen. She motioned for him to sit down on the toilet He pulled off his shirt and watched her collect supplies. When she had her things, she moved between his legs and leaned over him to place all of the medicines and bandages on the back of the toilet.