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Daniel stifled a yawn, clearly bored with this talk of weddings. “Reed, want to go catch the rest of the ball game?”
What Reed really wanted to do was stay and hear what the women had to say about Felicity, but he couldn’t think of any way to do that, so he reluctantly pushed his chair back.
“Why do you say surprisingly so?” Anna Lisa asked.
Yeah, Reed thought, stalling by pretending something was in his shoe. Why do you?
“Oh, you know,” Shannon said. “She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. I just didn’t think she’d have that kind of drive.”
“She strikes me as a woman who, once she sets her sights on something, will work like crazy to accomplish it,” Anna Lisa said. “I give her credit for picking herself up after that horrible divorce of hers and making something of her life.”
“It’s too bad she doesn’t have better taste in friends,” Reed’s mother said, shooting him a dark look.
Reed knew an exit line when he heard one.
But even after he and Daniel were settled in the family room in front of the big-screen TV their father had bought less than four months before his fatal heart attack, Reed’s mind was only marginally on the Red Sox game. Most of it remained centered on Felicity, his ex-fiancée’s best friend. And the more he thought about her, the more he wanted to pursue what they’d started earlier today.
Damn!
Why couldn’t he get the woman out of his mind?
Maybe his subconscious was trying to tell him something. Maybe, instead of trying to forget about Felicity, he should be figuring out how to get her into his bed. Because, obviously, he wasn’t going to be able to move on with his life until he did.
When Felicity arrived at her office Thursday morning, she wasn’t surprised to see Bo Harrison already there, ready and waiting. Bo, with his dyed platinum hair, diamond earrings and all-black “uniform,” looked like the creative artist he was. His photographs were works of art, and he was in high demand despite his outrageous prices.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling.
“Good morning, Bo.”
“Ready to roll?”
“As soon as I get my coffee I will be.” She’d barely uttered the words before Rita emerged from their little kitchen and handed Felicity an insulated cup. Felicity grinned. “You’re an angel, Rita.”
Today her assistant wore a bright yellow dress and matching yellow heels with peekaboo toes. She, too, was a shoe junkie, although unlike Felicity, Rita bought her shoes on sale at discount stores instead of designer shops.
“You look nice today,” Felicity said.
“So do you,” Rita countered, eyeing Felicity’s frothy multicolored sundress, a far cry from her normal work attire of either black or taupe—colors that would never take attention away from her brides or their attendants.
“Thanks,” Felicity said. “I have a Debs Club luncheon later.”
“I saw it on your calendar,” Rita said. “What time will you be back here?”
“Probably not until three. Why? Is there something urgent that I’ve forgotten?”
“No.” Rita smiled. “I just like to keep track.”
“If anything changes, I’ll call you. Or if something does come up, you call me on my cell.”
“Okay. Have fun today, you two.”
Five minutes later, Bo and Felicity were on their way. Felicity had declined Bo’s offer of a ride, since she would go straight to the club from Rosedale.
As they neared the entrance to the horse farm, her heart beat a little faster. Even though she’d spoken to Reed on the phone after that kiss—and both had pretended it hadn’t happened—it would be different seeing him in person. Meeting his gaze, remembering how his body had responded to hers, and hers to his. But no matter how awkward the situation, Felicity was determined to be her normal cool, efficient self today.
Because the last thing she wanted was for Reed to think that kiss had been important to her or that she attached any significance to it. Better for him to think her behavior yesterday had been a temporary aberration, a momentary lapse of good judgment.
Reed stood outside the office building as Felicity and Bo drove in. They both parked, then walked over to greet him.
“Good morning,” Felicity said crisply.
“Good morning,” he answered.
Damn, he looked good. Once again he wore close-fitting breeches, but today they were topped with an open-necked blue shirt the same vibrant shade as his eyes.
Felicity’s heart clutched when those eyes met hers. It took every ounce of her willpower and self-control not to look away. Instead, she said in a voice admirably even, “Reed, this is my photographer, Bo Harrison. Bo, Reed Kelly, the owner of Rosedale.”
“Bo,” Reed said, extending his right hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kelly. I appreciate the opportunity to work here.”
Reed smiled. “Where did you want to start?”
“Maybe you could just give us a tour of the place,” Felicity suggested. “Give Bo an idea of what’s here?”
Reed gave her a dubious look. “Are you planning to walk around in those shoes?”
“And risk my Blahniks? Are you crazy?” Felicity grinned. She’d shopped far and wide for the perfect complement to her shimmery sundress in shades of turquoise, violet and gold. “I brought some others.”
She reached into her tote and extracted a pair of New Balance cross trainers, exchanging them for her strappy gold sandals.
Soon they were off, Reed leading the way and explaining what each area’s function was. Felicity was glad they’d decided on a morning tour, for already the sun was getting uncomfortably warm. As they walked, she couldn’t help being impressed with the scope of Rosedale. It was truly beautiful, and far more comprehensive than Felicity had imagined from Emma’s sketchy description the one time they’d discussed what Reed did for a living.
Come to think of it, Emma hadn’t talked about Reed much at all during their engagement, other than to say they’d been there or done that. The omission should have been Felicity’s first clue that all was not well between them.
Had Reed sensed Emma’s misgivings? Because surely she’d had them for a while, even if she hadn’t been able to articulate them or share them with Felicity. Wondering how long it would take him to get over Emma, Felicity shot Reed a furtive look.
And caught him looking at her with the oddest expression on his face.
Startled when their eyes met, she could feel her face coloring and quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in the quarantine and layup facility he had just pointed out.
What had he been thinking just now?
She swallowed. Damn, she wished she had been capable of restraining her baser instincts yesterday.
For the remainder of their tour she studiously avoided looking at Reed. He unnerved her, and she didn’t like the feeling, even as she liked him far more than was good for her.
Telling herself any future interaction with Reed that didn’t involve business would complicate her life in ways she absolutely did not need, Felicity thanked him when the tour was over, said goodbye to both him and Bo, and drove away from Rosedale without looking back.
Reed stood outside and watched the departure of Bo and Felicity. An idea had struck him this morning, one that, on the surface, seemed outrageous.
And yet…was it that outrageous?
He didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that Felicity was as attracted to him as he was to her. Just the way her gaze darted away every time it met his—well, maybe not every time—would have told him she felt the same things he did.
So what if she had no interest in marriage and he did? All he wanted right now was something new. A brief liaison, one that would satisfy both of them and be a hell of a lot of fun in the process.
Sex with no strings.
He grinned.
Sex with no strings. They’d both get something they wanted and wouldn’t have to worry about any messy entanglements or hurt feelings afterward.
And if he presented his proposition to her on that basis, she might just say yes.
Three
Felicity headed straight for the powder room when she reached the club. She felt overheated by her excursion to Rosedale. Or maybe the heat had been caused by her impossible-to-deny attraction to Reed.
God, he was sexy.
Just looking at him made her feel weak in the knees.
Well, no matter what had caused this unwelcome heat, she needed to put herself together again before facing the Debs, some of whom were way too perceptive. Of course, no one had to know where she’d been earlier today. In fact, she absolutely did not want them to know, because the last subject she wanted to discuss, in front of Emma or anyone else, was Reed.
After repairing her makeup and repositioning her violet rhinestone butterfly hair clip, Felicity felt ready to make her appearance.
Walking past the Emerald Room’s malachite bar, she waved to Harry, the bartender, who waved back, and headed straight for the table where she and the other Debs always sat.
Sure enough, two of them were already there—Emma, wearing a powder-blue dress that set off her silky black hair and violet eyes, and Lily Miller Cartwright, who was now seven months pregnant and radiant in a yellow maternity dress that hugged her rounded belly.
Felicity used the few moments before her friends noticed her approach to study them. She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy at the happiness evident on both faces. A happiness caused by being deeply in love and knowing they were loved back.
But I don’t want to be married. I don’t even want a long-term commitment. So why am I envious because they’ve both found their soul mates?
Just then, Lily turned and saw her. “Felicity!” she exclaimed, giving her a beaming smile.
“Hi, Fee,” said a quieter Emma.
As Felicity leaned down to kiss first Lily, then Emma, she wondered at Emma’s more restrained greeting. Was it possible she suspected something about Felicity’s whereabouts today? Her inappropriate feelings for Reed? Was she even now wondering if Felicity had harbored those feelings all along, even when Emma and Reed had been engaged?
Oh, don’t be ridiculous! How could she possibly suspect anything? That’s just your guilty conscience bothering you.
Besides, Felicity thought, even if Emma did suspect something, why would she care now? She hadn’t wanted Reed. She’d wanted Garrett. And Felicity had absolutely no interest in Garrett Keating. But even after telling herself this, she still felt uncomfortable. After the debacle with Sam, she hated deception of any kind, even when it was rooted in an omission rather than an outright lie.
Telling herself to chill, Felicity sat next to Emma and when their waiter approached, ordered a glass of her favorite German Riesling, then joined in the conversation, which centered around an upcoming baby shower for Lily.
“It’s being hosted by Jack’s cousin Jennifer,” Lily said happily. She absently pushed an errant strand of curly auburn hair under her yellow headband. With her blue eyes and bright coloring, she could have been the model for a Botticelli painting.
“I hope we’re all going to be invited,” Felicity said brightly.
Lily gave her a look of incredulity. “Of course you are! How could you even think I wouldn’t want all the Debs Club there?”
Just then, Vanessa Thorpe and Abby Talbot, the last two members of their group who were joining today’s lunch, arrived together. Both young women were immaculately turned out—Vanessa in the same shade of green as her eyes and Abby in white, which set off her beautiful tan and long blond hair. Felicity hadn’t seen much of Abby since her mother’s funeral earlier in the summer, and she wondered how Abby was doing.
Kisses, hugs and compliments flew while the newcomers settled themselves and ordered glasses of wine. Once they’d had a chance to briefly study the menu—they met here for lunch so often they’d practically memorized it—the five women ordered. Mostly they stuck to salads, fish, or chicken, although Lily—laughing—said she didn’t care, she was going to have pasta today. “After the baby comes, I’ll have to say goodbye to carbs. Might as well enjoy myself while I can.”
“Knowing you, you’ll be back into a size four before that kid’s a month old,” Vanessa said.
“I’ve never worn a size four in my life,” Lily said.
“Well, six, then.”
“Eight’s more like it.”
“Listen to her,” Vanessa said.
“Oh, she’s just trying to make the rest of us feel better,” Abby quipped.
“Like you’re fat or something,” Vanessa shot back.
Felicity sat back and enjoyed the banter. She loved these get-togethers with the Debs. They were all terrific women and had become loyal friends who had supported and encouraged her through her problems with Sam.
Even Abby had been loyal, although that mother of hers had had a field day writing about Sam’s desertion and the loss of Felicity’s inheritance. Felicity had long wondered how a mother and daughter could be so different, for Abby rarely gossiped. Maybe she’d had enough of it growing up with Bunny.
After their orders had been placed, the conversation turned to Emma’s relationship with Garrett, or more accurately, the breakup with Reed.
“How’s Reed taking the news?” Vanessa asked.
Emma shrugged. “I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since I broke the engagement,” she confessed.
Vanessa grimaced. “Poor Reed. He’s probably brokenhearted.”
“I hope not,” Emma said. She bit her lip.
Emma was tenderhearted, and Felicity knew she’d truly cared for Reed and wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer.
“Have any of you seen him?” Emma asked, looking around the table.
The question unsettled Felicity. She didn’t want to reveal that she’d seen him, because she was afraid that in talking about their meetings she might give away her feelings, yet she hated deceiving Emma. So she pushed back from the table. “Sorry, I’ve got to visit the ladies’. Now, don’t talk about me when I’m not here to defend myself.”
They all laughed.
She would stay away just long enough to let the conversation move to another subject. Unfortunately, when she entered the ladies’ room, Felicity almost turned around and walked right out, because standing in front of the large mirror in the outer lounge area was Delia Forrester, one of Felicity’s least favorite people.
“Felicity! Darling, it’s been too long,” Delia exclaimed. For some unknown reason, the woman had taken a shine to Felicity, almost as if she thought they were two of a kind.
Felicity forced herself to smile and say pleasantly, “Hello, Delia.” Although she detested the woman, she saw no point in openly antagonizing her. “How are you?”
