She’d just finished changing clothes to go to Rowdy’s when Stack called. Wanting to look her best tonight, she’d taken extra care with her outfit, hair and makeup.
She wanted to bowl Stack over.
“Hello, handsome.”
She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Hey, darlin’. You’re back home?”
“Yes. Just about ready to walk out the door.”
He sighed. “This is one of those times that I wish you weren’t always so prompt.”
Her heart stuttered. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But I’m going to be a little late.”
She didn’t mean to say it, especially with so much snark, but the words just tumbled out. “Visiting Whitney?”
There was a moment of silence, and Stack laughed. “Is that jealousy I hear?”
Damn. Dropping to sit on the side of the bed, she glumly admitted, “Yes.”
“Vanity,” he chided. “You know there’s no reason.”
“Because you care about me, not her.”
“Yes.”
She believed him, she really did. But damn it, Whitney wanted him back. What woman wouldn’t? “I just hope Whitney understands that.”
“I promise I won’t let her misunderstand.”
Huffing a breath, Vanity gave up. “I’m sorry. I’m being clingy and a pain, and I’ll stop right now.” Maybe.
“No need to apologize. I’ll prove that to you tonight, too.”
Good thing she was sitting down. In a whisper, she said, “I can’t wait.”
“Afraid we’ll both have to. I called Whitney all day, but she only answered a little while ago. I’ll stop by her place to find out what I can about Phil, and then head to Rowdy’s. Everyone’s meeting us there.” He lowered his voice. “I want you to relax and have fun.”
“Soon as you get there,” she promised, “I will.”
After they hung up, she got hold of Yvette. The new bride agreed to meet with her at Rowdy’s, as did Cherry and Merissa. Vanity also called and invited Tabby, but Lynn said she was napping. The dogs, whom Vanity had returned to Lynn earlier that day, were sleeping with Tabby.
She missed them.
She missed Stack.
Hopefully a drink or two with a few friends would get her out of her gloomy mood.
* * *
WHITNEY BEAMED WHEN she opened the door and found Stack standing there. She knew him well, and while he looked as good as ever, she saw bitterness in his stormy blue eyes, anger in the set of his jaw and flex of his shoulders.
He didn’t want to be here, but things were working out in her favor.
Smiling, she said, “Stack. What a nice surprise.”
If anything, her greeting hardened his mood more. “This isn’t a social visit.”
“Given the fumes coming out of your ears, I’d already picked up on that.” In silent invitation, she opened the door wider, and Stack came in.
The urge to touch him, to stroke that finely honed body and feel all those tantalizing muscles, left her fingers tingling. She could still picture him naked, tensed over her, driving deep.
When she shivered, Stack’s eyes narrowed, and he said, “Knock it off, Whit. I’m not in the mood.”
“That’s unusual. As I recall, you were always in the mood.”
Expression bordering on cruel, he looked her over. “Not here, not with you.”
That hurt, but she didn’t let it show. After closing the door, she smiled and led the way to the kitchen. If Stack wanted to talk to her, he could follow.
And he did.
She poured herself a drink, and then him.
He ignored the glass. “You were with Phil at my sister’s apartment. Have you seen him since then?”
“Yes.” She said nothing more; why make it easy on him? Pulling out a stool at the bar in her kitchen, she took a seat, crossed her legs in a way that made her short skirt ride higher, and waited.
“You know Tabby kicked him out.”
A statement, not a question. But it wasn’t a problem. She’d thought about this for a long time, and she knew exactly how to work it to her advantage. “Yes, I know.”
“Tell me where I can find him.”
Ah, ah. Not that easy, Stack. She sipped her drink, taking her time—and testing his patience. When it looked as though he might turn around and walk out, she finally answered. “I honestly don’t know. The last time I saw him, he was looking for a ride to the bank.”
“Shit.” Hands on his hips, Stack turned his face away. As much to himself as to her, he growled, “I’m betting Tabby didn’t think to close out her accounts.”
She wanted to bowl Stack over.
“Hello, handsome.”
She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Hey, darlin’. You’re back home?”
“Yes. Just about ready to walk out the door.”
He sighed. “This is one of those times that I wish you weren’t always so prompt.”
Her heart stuttered. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But I’m going to be a little late.”
She didn’t mean to say it, especially with so much snark, but the words just tumbled out. “Visiting Whitney?”
There was a moment of silence, and Stack laughed. “Is that jealousy I hear?”
Damn. Dropping to sit on the side of the bed, she glumly admitted, “Yes.”
“Vanity,” he chided. “You know there’s no reason.”
“Because you care about me, not her.”
“Yes.”
She believed him, she really did. But damn it, Whitney wanted him back. What woman wouldn’t? “I just hope Whitney understands that.”
“I promise I won’t let her misunderstand.”
Huffing a breath, Vanity gave up. “I’m sorry. I’m being clingy and a pain, and I’ll stop right now.” Maybe.
“No need to apologize. I’ll prove that to you tonight, too.”
Good thing she was sitting down. In a whisper, she said, “I can’t wait.”
“Afraid we’ll both have to. I called Whitney all day, but she only answered a little while ago. I’ll stop by her place to find out what I can about Phil, and then head to Rowdy’s. Everyone’s meeting us there.” He lowered his voice. “I want you to relax and have fun.”
“Soon as you get there,” she promised, “I will.”
After they hung up, she got hold of Yvette. The new bride agreed to meet with her at Rowdy’s, as did Cherry and Merissa. Vanity also called and invited Tabby, but Lynn said she was napping. The dogs, whom Vanity had returned to Lynn earlier that day, were sleeping with Tabby.
She missed them.
She missed Stack.
Hopefully a drink or two with a few friends would get her out of her gloomy mood.
* * *
WHITNEY BEAMED WHEN she opened the door and found Stack standing there. She knew him well, and while he looked as good as ever, she saw bitterness in his stormy blue eyes, anger in the set of his jaw and flex of his shoulders.
He didn’t want to be here, but things were working out in her favor.
Smiling, she said, “Stack. What a nice surprise.”
If anything, her greeting hardened his mood more. “This isn’t a social visit.”
“Given the fumes coming out of your ears, I’d already picked up on that.” In silent invitation, she opened the door wider, and Stack came in.
The urge to touch him, to stroke that finely honed body and feel all those tantalizing muscles, left her fingers tingling. She could still picture him naked, tensed over her, driving deep.
When she shivered, Stack’s eyes narrowed, and he said, “Knock it off, Whit. I’m not in the mood.”
“That’s unusual. As I recall, you were always in the mood.”
Expression bordering on cruel, he looked her over. “Not here, not with you.”
That hurt, but she didn’t let it show. After closing the door, she smiled and led the way to the kitchen. If Stack wanted to talk to her, he could follow.
And he did.
She poured herself a drink, and then him.
He ignored the glass. “You were with Phil at my sister’s apartment. Have you seen him since then?”
“Yes.” She said nothing more; why make it easy on him? Pulling out a stool at the bar in her kitchen, she took a seat, crossed her legs in a way that made her short skirt ride higher, and waited.
“You know Tabby kicked him out.”
A statement, not a question. But it wasn’t a problem. She’d thought about this for a long time, and she knew exactly how to work it to her advantage. “Yes, I know.”
“Tell me where I can find him.”
Ah, ah. Not that easy, Stack. She sipped her drink, taking her time—and testing his patience. When it looked as though he might turn around and walk out, she finally answered. “I honestly don’t know. The last time I saw him, he was looking for a ride to the bank.”
“Shit.” Hands on his hips, Stack turned his face away. As much to himself as to her, he growled, “I’m betting Tabby didn’t think to close out her accounts.”
