Tristan shook his head. “Hadn’t gotten that far.”
“Figures.”
He ran a hand down her hair as he spoke to Matt. “Finesse, pal. Learn it.”
Cait stared hard at Matt, mentally willing him to remember what she’d said last night.
Don’t say a word.
Matt shrugged and turned away, reaching into an overhead cabinet for a cup. “Sorry. You want privacy, you know where the bedrooms are.”
That got her moving. “I have work to do,” she said stiffly, pushing at Tristan’s biceps.
“Now that’s what I like to hear. Which one of us should drop his pants first?”
“Jesus, Matt. Shut the hell up.” Tris brushed his fingertip over her swollen lower lip, his gaze searching hers. “You okay?” he asked in an undertone. “I’ll get you another mug.”
In spite of the tears one blink away from filling her eyes, she managed to smile. “Sure. Fine. Can I get up now?”
He released her, and she rose unsteadily. “How’d the mug get broken anyway?” he asked, grabbing the dustpan.
Cait glanced at Matt and caught his smug little smile. “I can’t remember.”
Before Matt could make another smart comment, she headed back to her desk. She dropped into her chair and swiveled to face her computer, then clicked open her latest design project.
One stilted attempt at normalcy coming right up.
Tristan immediately engaged Matt in some inane banter about Abe Donnelly’s latest over-the-top demands. She didn’t listen.
Now that she’d made an impossible situation even worse, she was going back to work.
“She’s a good kisser, huh?”
“What?” His mind on his current crisis—what to order for lunch from the takeout menu in his hand—Tristan almost didn’t hear Matt.
Then his brain clicked into gear, and he turned to glare at his best friend. “What did you just say?”
“Cait. She’s a good kisser. But then we always knew she would be. Don’t think you got past her mouth, but believe you me, the rest of her is just as responsive.”
Before Matt’s words fully pierced the haze in his brain, Tris noted his best friend’s smirk. He’d seen that smirk before. That was the expression Matt wore when he’d set his sights on a new conquest.
Or had already enjoyed one.
In an instant, Tris hurtled out of his chair and pushed Matt against the wall. He lifted his knee, fully intent on shoving it into Matt’s groin. “What did you do to her?” he demanded.
“Not nearly enough. And you might want to mind the knee. You’ll regret it later.”
“I asked you a goddamned question. How do you know what kind of kisser she is?”
“Sit down. You’re hungry and you’re tired, and as usual your testosterone’s doing the talking.” Matt’s jaw popped as he yawned. “We’re both tired. So ease off and I’ll tell you.”
Tris stepped back a fraction. “This is as far as I’m going. Start talking.”
“You’re getting the abridged version. There’s a couple of reasons for that, mainly that she doesn’t want you to know.”
Now he sat. “Why?”
Matt rolled back up to his desk. He resumed whatever he’d been doing, moving his hand in wide swings on the mouse. “You know Cait,” he said dismissively. “Always has her reasons. But in this case, I don’t think she’s altogether wrong. You’re both impossible to deal with. Which is why from here on out, we’re doing this my way.”