dancing and the night’s almost over.”
Cooper turned to him after Melody traipsed off. “Man, you look like you need a beer.”
Reid’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he gave his friend a half-smile. “You have no idea.”
Coop got the bartender’s attention, ordered two Shiner Bocks, and handed one to Reid. They moved away from the busy bar, but remained on the fringes of the milling crowd. His friend took a swig of his beer, then nodded in the direction of Brynn’s table. “So what’s the deal with you two?”
Reid shook his head. “Long story. Shitty ending.”
He chuckled. “I’m guessing there was nakedness involved. I’ve never seen her look so horrified to see someone. Although, I’m having trouble imagining the two of you dating. Brynn’s, uh, not exactly into guys like us.”
Reid eyed his friend. “Guys like us?”
Cooper gave him a wry smile. “The bossy type. I know it’s been a while, but I doubt you’ve changed
that
much since college.”
Reid absentmindedly rubbed the spot on his finger where a ring used to be. No, some things couldn’t be changed, no matter how hard he’d tried. Too bad he hadn’t figured that out before he’d married a woman who thought he was some kind of deviant for wanting to take control in the bedroom.
“I guess you’re right.” However, Cooper’s assessment of Brynn confused him. Back when he’d known her, she’d been exactly the kind of girl for his flavor of kink.
Coop pointed his bottle at him. “Well, I don’t know what’s between you two, but I suggest you clear out that old stuff quick. The last thing we need at the crisis center is drama between the employees. Believe me, our clients provide enough of that.”
Reid gave a curt nod. “I’ll take care of it.”
Now he just had to figure out how. This was supposed to be his fresh start, both from his failed marriage and from the stress of working in his family’s high-profile practice. Tiptoeing around Brynn and being on edge at work were
not
part of the agenda. He’d done enough eggshell walking over the past few years to last him a lifetime. That stopped now.
The way he saw it, she’d ripped his heart out ten years ago and then he’d let her down during her mother’s trial—they should be even. So whether she liked it or not, the two of them were going to dump their ugly history on the table and deal with it.
Based on previous experience, that kind of discussion would either end up in a screaming fight or a screaming fuck. Regardless, he wasn’t waiting until Monday to have it with her. To hell with her date—and her vibrator. There would only be one guy driving Ms. LeBreck home tonight.
Roni Loren wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered that writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Though she’ll forever be a New Orleans girl at heart, she now lives in Dallas with her husband and son. Visit her online at www.roniloren.com
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