Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Alex is gonna meet us there too,” Cord announced as we crossed the street.
“He’s coming along because he misses you. I mean, I basically stole his best friend,” I finished with a snicker.
Cord glared at me.
“What? It’s true.”
“Be nice.”
“I invited Matt and Eric too,” I informed my husband. He stopped moving suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, looking absolutely stricken. It was like he couldn’t think of anything worse than spending time with my friends. He seemed on the verge of puking. And instantly, I was upset.
“Cord?” I said defensively. “Since when don’t you like Matt and Eric?” I was also concerned I’d missed his apparent dislike of two of the most important people in my life. How did my husband not like my best friend?
I’d thought we were all getting along amazingly well. Even better, we didn’t have to go out clubbing anymore. Everyone, including Ira and Courtney and her friends, liked coming over to our place for dinner and game night. A lot of times the games were forgotten, and we ended up lounging around our house, talking, drinking, and cementing what I felt certain would be lifelong friendships. It was different with Cord. We didn’t have my friends and his friends. We had our friends, and that was even better. Plus, I got to add my brother and my business partner permanently to the mix.
And speaking of, the most interesting thing about having Dimah in my friends circle was how well the DEA agent and the importer/exporter got along. The first time Alex told me that he and Dimah were hitting the bars together, alone, I nearly passed out.
“Why’re you surprised?” Cord had asked me. “I can’t be his wingman anymore, so he needs a new one. Hot Russian guy with the killer accent is an excellent choice as a substitute.”
I’d stared at him like he’d gone right out of his mind.
“What?”
“You think Dimah is hot?”
He squinted at me. “It’s not a question of do I or don’t I. Empirically speaking, he’s gorgeous.”
“What happened to ‘Dimah’s a bad guy, and none of us should go anywhere near him’?”
“I was wrong about him, and so was Alex. We know that now.”
I’d taken crap about it for years, and I was just supposed to let it go? How was that fair?
“It’s not like we’re wrong often.”
The things you learned when you weren’t even trying were astounding. But now, to find out that inviting two of my oldest friends out to dinner with us that evening was this upsetting to him left me stunned.
“Cord, why—”
“Did you replace the couch?”
I was lost. “I’m sorry?”
“I remember you telling me you came home and found Breckin fucking Sean Granger on the couch,” he said, his gaze locked on mine. “Did you ever replace it?”
Was he serious? “That’s what you’re upset about?”
He nodded.
“Not our friends?”
He shook his head.
My smile broke free. “What precisely led you from thinking about Matt and Eric to the couch?”
“It just, um—” He coughed. “—it popped into my head. I didn’t even hear what else you were talking about.”
I chuckled. “I see. Well, you’ll be relieved to know that I replaced the couch the day after that happened. I got the one we have now from an arthouse in Soma.”
His relief was apparent. I was grabbed and kissed and hugged and finally tucked up against his side.
“So,” he began slowly, “I saw Breckin’s wedding invitation on our refrigerator. Are we actually going to that?”
“Oh no, I just wanted to remember to call and congratulate him.”
“And did you?”
“I didn’t, but I don’t have to now because I ran into him last week when I was picking up Thai food from that place you like. He was coming out of the Italian restaurant across the street.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t important. We talked for maybe five minutes.”
He arched an eyebrow and waited.
“What?”
“There’s a reason you didn’t tell me. I know you.”
I sighed deeply, and his eyes widened comically.
“Are you kidding me?”
My groan was loud as I started walking away from him. He caught up easily and swung me around to face him. “He was with somebody else?”
I let my head fall back.
“Holy shit, Trace. Man or woman?”
“Man,” I said, meeting his gaze.
“So lemme see if I got this: he’s getting married in a month, he’s got an infant son, and he’s already sleeping around on Celia.”
I made a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. It had been so embarrassing. Breckin had grabbed my arm and dragged me halfway down the street, explaining that he and Celia had an understanding. He was allowed to sleep with men but not with women. His bride-to-be was apparently quite accommodating.
“So what did you say?” Cord grilled me.
“I said we weren’t going to the wedding.”
“Did he hit on you?”
“No,” I said, almost with a straight face, tipping my head forward. “He complimented me on my ring and asked how long we’d been married.”