“Casserole of unknown origin.” Britt
any wondered if she was the only one who felt uneasy about Sky’s relationship with Richard Everson. “Getting it into the oven required a feat of dexterity I’m glad you didn’t witness, but one of you is going to have to lift it out because I’m not cuddling it now that it’s hot.”
“Talking of cuddling things that are hot, tell us about Zach.”
“Nothing to tell.”
“You invited me for the weekend so we could talk about nothing?”
Emily frowned. “She doesn’t have to talk about it if she doesn’t want to.”
“Yes, she does.” Sky leaned forward, an impish look in her eyes. “Have you talked to him since he saw you naked?”
Emily’s eyes widened. “He saw you naked?”
Sky reached for another olive, the bracelets on her wrist jangling. “He heard her scream and rescued her. It was romantic.”
Brittany sat down, enjoying the soothing warmth of the kitchen and the company of her friends. “Breaking and entering is not romantic.” Knowing she wasn’t going to get away with anything less than a full account of the happenings of the past few days, she surrendered to the inevitable and told the whole story.
Emily sipped her wine. “I hope you accepted his offer to fly you to the hospital.”
“I didn’t. Nor did I accept his suggestion that we talk.”
“Why?” Skylar leaned forward. “Why turn down a golden opportunity to fry his firm, muscular butt?”
“Because it’s in the past. I’ve moved on.”
“Are you sure? Because no one would blame you if you hadn’t. The man is hotter than hell in a heat wave.” Skylar caught Emily’s eye and shrugged defensively. “What? It’s true! He is superhot. In a very bad-boy, dissolute, don’t-turn-your-back-on-the-silver sort of way, of course. If it were me, I’d be tempted to rip his clothes off and find out if the sex is as good as ever.”
Brittany thought about the moody black eyes and that lethally sexy body. Those strong, competent hands brushing over her underwear. “I’m not tempted.”
“Of course she isn’t,” Emily said stoutly. “Brittany is smart. She has far more sense than to make the same mistake twice.”
Skylar raised an eyebrow expectantly and Brittany sighed.
“Fine, I find him sexy—” she snapped out the words, more irritated with herself than with them “—but it makes no difference because I am not sleeping with my ex. I wouldn’t put myself through that. Oh, hell, why did I ever come back here?”
“Because you need rest and recuperation and this is the perfect place.”
“Not when it’s been contaminated by your ex-husband. I’ve never felt less rested in my life.”
“So to summarize,” Emily said slowly, “you thought you felt nothing, you wanted to feel nothing, then you saw him and you felt something.”
Skylar helped herself to another olive. “She felt a whole lot of something she didn’t want to feel.”
Brittany slumped in her chair and stared gloomily at her wine. “I don’t know what I felt, but none of it was good.”
“You need to explore those feelings.”
“No, she doesn’t!” The suggestion seemed to trouble Emily. “I think she needs to let it go. It’s bound to feel a little weird and uncomfortable seeing him after all this time, but if she ignores those feelings, they’ll fade.”
“Ignoring feelings is dangerous. They have a way of growing and damaging your insides. Better to let it out. It’s cathartic.” Skylar picked up the wine bottle and emptied it into Brittany’s glass. “There’s another in the fridge. Move your butt, Em.”
“We should eat the casserole before we open the next bottle. And it might not be cathartic.” Emily stood up. “It could just open old wounds and then she’ll be upset all over again. I don’t see what there is to be gained.”
“For a start, she’d enjoy some spectacular off-the-scale sex.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Brittany muttered. “You could include me in the conversation. And your imagination is in overdrive.”