“But?”
“I care about you. Like a brother. That will never change.”
“Same here, Dev.” Con stepped forward, a sense of foreboding skating down his spine. Devon put up a hand in warning, effectively stopping Con in his tracks.
“I know you, Con. You aren’t going to get over this.” Con started to argue, but Devon rode right over him. “You want Tory and you want me gone. I can’t walk away. I can’t give her up—not unless it’s what she wants.”
How had things gone from great to shit so damn fast? This was a new record for him. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Then we need to figure out a way to make this work. For all of us.”
Con had racked his brain trying to think of some way to get over his growing possessiveness toward Tory—and he’d come up blank. “Got any suggestions? Because I’m fresh out of ideas here.”
Devon quirked a brow. “Actually, I do have a suggestion.”
For the first time in weeks, Con felt a spark of hope. “I’m all ears. Spill.”
“Not yet.”
“What the hell do you mean, not yet?” Con cursed under his breath. “My life is spinning out of control and you want to play twenty questions?”
“I’ll tell you and Tory at the same time. She should be kept in the loop here. We can’t make decisions like this without her.”
“Christ. Just give me a clue here. I’m drowning.”
“No, you can wait and hear my idea when Tory gets home. But, I can tell you that I’m not going to book the trip to Aruba.”
When Devon turned to leave, Con had the sinking feeling he’d lost something. Something he might never get back. “Devon,” Con called out.
Without turning around, Devon asked, “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Devon mumbled. Without another word, he left.
Con wasn’t sure how long he stood in the middle of the room, staring at the empty doorway. When he heard the front door open and close, it pulled him out of his misery. He crossed the room and sat in the brown leather couch adjacent to the desk. Was he really going to have to choose between the woman he loved and his best friend? No. Devon had figured something out. Whatever it was it would be a solution that would benefit all three of them. Devon was good at fixing things. Con was good at fucking up.
When they’d hatched their little plan to finally make Tory their own, it’d seemed so perfect. They’d both wanted her. Both knew, even then, that they were in love with her. At first it’d been bliss. Making love to her, sharing their nights wrapped around her. Waking up with her nestled between them. Even her snoring made him smile. There had been a few bumps in the road, but nothing big, nothing life-altering.
He wasn’t even sure when the first spark of jealousy had appeared. Not that it mattered, because it was a full-on blaze now. The only question left unanswered: Could he really choose between the love of his life and his best friend?
Loose ends have a way of tripping you up…
Creative License
? 2011 Lynne Roberts
Years ago, a law school graduation weekend in Vegas had been part of Lily MacPherson’s plan. Waking up next to a naked Adonis with a ring on her finger was not. After a quick annulment, she relegated Caleb Anderson to her late-night fantasies—and very short list of mistakes—until his voice on the other end of the phone asks a favor that could shake the foundations of her neat and tidy future.
Caleb is still haunted by Lily’s horrified expression that morning in Vegas. At least it had made it easy to set her free…except they aren’t. The papers were never filed. And when the nosy patroness who could launch his painting career insists on meeting his “wife”, does he confess, or call Lily? He calls Lily.
When she steps off the plane, Caleb’s determination to play tour guide disappears in the San Francisco fog. Lily thought she could keep up the pretense for one weekend, cut the last tie to her past, and move on. But their chemistry still pops and sizzles, finally exploding into passion at Caleb’s studio.
It’s everything they remember…but so is the yawning chasm of differences that, in the end, could once again drive them apart.
Warning: Contains balmy ocean breezes, coffee as seduction, the creative use of melted chocolate, and naughty shower lovin’ that gives new meanings to the term “shower head”.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Creative License: