For a second, she thought he was going to ignore her. Then he drew a breath and shook his head. "No," he said with a soft smile. "I wouldn't dream of it." He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. "Maybe we should just run off to Vegas. You'd be a great mom."
"You better believe I would," she retorted. "I'm good in bed, too."
"Well, we have that in common," he countered, making her laugh. She knew he wasn't even remotely serious--and she wasn't even remotely tempted--so there was no weirdness twisting in her gut.
"Of course, that would be breaking our oath," he teased.
She made a B in sign language with her fingers and put it up on her forehead, the supposedly secret sign they'd come up with the summer she'd turned eleven. "Best friends forever, right? The Three Musketeers."
"Or three blind mice, depending on your point of view. But yeah. An oath is an oath."
"Hell yeah," she said softy. She looked at Brent, but her mind was on a different guy.
"And call me crazy, but I want to marry for love. And sex. But mostly love."
She pressed a hand to her heart in mock indignation. "Are you saying you don't love me?"
"I love you to the moon and back. But not like that."
"I know." She drew in a breath, then yawned. "Me, too."
"You're exhausted." He kissed her forehead. "Now go to sleep. It's past three, and Reece will be here early."
He headed out then, shutting the door behind him, and Jenna was left staring around the room, which was illuminated by the faint glow of a streetlight seeping in aroun
d the curtains. She wanted to curl up in bed and crash. Half an hour ago, she would have. Hell, even five minutes ago. She'd been tired, then. Completely drained.
And then Brent had gone and mentioned Reece, and now her body was purring, forbidden memories sliding up to tease her senses.
And then he'd mentioned friendship and oaths, and she wished she could pry all those decadent, unwanted thoughts and feelings from her mind.
She opened her suitcase and started to unpack. She pulled out her make-up case and took all of her cosmetics into the bathroom, then laid them out for the morning. She hoped the familiar travel routine would distract her.
It didn't. Reece was still in her mind. Heated thoughts. Sensual meanderings. And maybe she shouldn't try to shut it off. Maybe she should just go with it.
Back in the bedroom, she got undressed, slipped into a nightshirt, then climbed into bed. Because she'd decided to give in to temptation. To close her eyes and remember a night when she'd gotten way too drunk.
A night when Reece had taken care of her, then carried her to bed.
A night he thought she didn't remember.
But she did. Some of it, at least.
And as a warm blush spread over her body, Jenna closed her eyes, breathed deep, and let herself fall backward into the memories of that delicious, forbidden night.
Chapter Four
Eight months ago
"You and Brent should just quit working and move to LA with me." Jenna took another long swallow of the rum and Corona concoction, then sighed with pleasure, her head spinning a little more than it should. Correction, a lot more than it should. "These are amazing. You're putting them on the menu, right?"
"If you say so, I will. Your wish is my command."
"You're teasing me, aren't you?" She narrowed her eyes, saw two of him, then narrowed them some more until Reece merged into one man. A man who was smiling indulgently at her from across one of the wooden two-tops in the back section of The Fix on Sixth.
Seven Percent, a local band that had gathered a nationwide following, was playing on the wooden stage up front, and normally she'd be sitting at the bar up there, listening to the music and chatting with the bartenders or a girlfriend while Brent and Reece did their jobs. Tonight, however, they'd both taken the night off. Because tonight was Zero Hour. The last hurrah.
Tomorrow at noon she was getting into her car and driving to Los Angeles.