go?”
“Good.” Mike downed his whiskey in two short gulps and signaled the waitress for another.
“Good. That’s all you’re going to tell me? Details, man,” Den said, laughing. “I need more than that.”
Mike stared into his empty glass. “Nothing much to tell, really.”
“You didn’t.”
Mike looked up. “Didn’t what?”
“Last night. At the club. You fucked Grace, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Don’t give me that coy shit. That’s something a woman would say. Tell me.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Christ, Mike, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
What the fuck
was
wrong with him? He and Denver had shared more than just talk about women. They’d shared women. And Mike never cared before whether he kissed and told. So why was he being so close-lipped about Grace?
He laid his head in his hands. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”
“PMS?” Den offered.
Mike snorted. “Funny.”
“She got to you, didn’t she?”
He thought about denial. He was the poster boy for denial, he was so good at it. But maybe it was time to stop running from emotions. Maybe that’s why he was so dissatisfied with his life. “Yeah, she got to me.”
“Did you fuck her?”
“No. I made love to her.”
“Jesus Christ. It’s even worse than I thought.”
He smiled and raised his head, looked at Den. “She’s something special.”
“She’s just another pussy, Mike.”
Had he ever been that much of an asshole? Yeah, he had. He’d never cared before. Women had meant nothing to him but a goodfuck. He couldn’t be mad at Den for acting like Den—hell, for saying the same thing he might have said yesterday. One night with Grace and suddenly he’d developed a conscience. Why?
“She just felt different to me.”
Den shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. They all feel the same to me.”
“I can’t explain it.”
“And how does Grace feel about all this?”
Mike allowed a half smile as the waitress brought their drinks. He stared at the amber liquid. “She pretty much tossed me out on my ass as soon as daylight hit.”
Den let out a loud laugh. “Payback is hell, isn’t it, buddy?”
Mike nodded, then arched his brow. “Fuck you. Your day will come.”
Den downed his drink, then slammed it on the table and signaled the waitress. He winked at Mike. “To end up like you? Mooning over a woman like a lovesick cow? I think I’d rather hang up my dick.”
Mike snorted. “Famous last words.”
Leaning back and grabbing a handful of peanuts, Den asked, “So now that she’s given you the boot, what’s the plan?” He popped the peanuts into his mouth.
“I’ll go back tomorrow, feel her out.”
“Want me to come?”
Mike shrugged. “That’s up to you.”
“I’ve been going to Wild Nights for a couple years now. I know Grace pretty well. Maybe I can help.”
Reinforcements couldn’t hurt. Then again, maybe it would. At this point he really didn’t know how this was going to play out, but he was willing to use any means necessary to get another chance to explore his relationship with Grace.
Relationship. A foreign, typically unwelcome word in his vocabulary. He almost laughed out loud.
Goddamn, his perspective sure had changed a lot in the past twenty-four hours.
* * *
There was no doubt about it. Grace was pissed. The emotion shocked her so much she almost laughed out loud. But since she was knee-deep in clients at the moment, that wasn’t a good idea.
She had no right to be upset. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted. Though she hadn’t come right out and said the words, she’d pretty much delivered Mike an A-number-one, obvious-as-hell brush-off this morning. She’d turned down his offers of breakfast, lunch and dinner, and all but shoved him into the elevator with her foot on his ass.
Could she have been more rude? The cold chill of fear had turned
“Good.” Mike downed his whiskey in two short gulps and signaled the waitress for another.
“Good. That’s all you’re going to tell me? Details, man,” Den said, laughing. “I need more than that.”
Mike stared into his empty glass. “Nothing much to tell, really.”
“You didn’t.”
Mike looked up. “Didn’t what?”
“Last night. At the club. You fucked Grace, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Don’t give me that coy shit. That’s something a woman would say. Tell me.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Christ, Mike, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
What the fuck
was
wrong with him? He and Denver had shared more than just talk about women. They’d shared women. And Mike never cared before whether he kissed and told. So why was he being so close-lipped about Grace?
He laid his head in his hands. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”
“PMS?” Den offered.
Mike snorted. “Funny.”
“She got to you, didn’t she?”
He thought about denial. He was the poster boy for denial, he was so good at it. But maybe it was time to stop running from emotions. Maybe that’s why he was so dissatisfied with his life. “Yeah, she got to me.”
“Did you fuck her?”
“No. I made love to her.”
“Jesus Christ. It’s even worse than I thought.”
He smiled and raised his head, looked at Den. “She’s something special.”
“She’s just another pussy, Mike.”
Had he ever been that much of an asshole? Yeah, he had. He’d never cared before. Women had meant nothing to him but a goodfuck. He couldn’t be mad at Den for acting like Den—hell, for saying the same thing he might have said yesterday. One night with Grace and suddenly he’d developed a conscience. Why?
“She just felt different to me.”
Den shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. They all feel the same to me.”
“I can’t explain it.”
“And how does Grace feel about all this?”
Mike allowed a half smile as the waitress brought their drinks. He stared at the amber liquid. “She pretty much tossed me out on my ass as soon as daylight hit.”
Den let out a loud laugh. “Payback is hell, isn’t it, buddy?”
Mike nodded, then arched his brow. “Fuck you. Your day will come.”
Den downed his drink, then slammed it on the table and signaled the waitress. He winked at Mike. “To end up like you? Mooning over a woman like a lovesick cow? I think I’d rather hang up my dick.”
Mike snorted. “Famous last words.”
Leaning back and grabbing a handful of peanuts, Den asked, “So now that she’s given you the boot, what’s the plan?” He popped the peanuts into his mouth.
“I’ll go back tomorrow, feel her out.”
“Want me to come?”
Mike shrugged. “That’s up to you.”
“I’ve been going to Wild Nights for a couple years now. I know Grace pretty well. Maybe I can help.”
Reinforcements couldn’t hurt. Then again, maybe it would. At this point he really didn’t know how this was going to play out, but he was willing to use any means necessary to get another chance to explore his relationship with Grace.
Relationship. A foreign, typically unwelcome word in his vocabulary. He almost laughed out loud.
Goddamn, his perspective sure had changed a lot in the past twenty-four hours.
* * *
There was no doubt about it. Grace was pissed. The emotion shocked her so much she almost laughed out loud. But since she was knee-deep in clients at the moment, that wasn’t a good idea.
She had no right to be upset. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted. Though she hadn’t come right out and said the words, she’d pretty much delivered Mike an A-number-one, obvious-as-hell brush-off this morning. She’d turned down his offers of breakfast, lunch and dinner, and all but shoved him into the elevator with her foot on his ass.
Could she have been more rude? The cold chill of fear had turned
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