He cleared his throat. “Er…”
“Let me guess,” Bryan drawled, as eerily perceptive as always, “Chloe just walked in.”
“Yeah.”
“Put her on the line, will you? And, Donovan—after you pry your foot out of your mouth and apologize, be nice to her, okay?”
“Bryan wants to talk to you,” Donovan said, holding the receiver toward Chloe without bothering to respond to his friend.
She nodded coolly. “I brought you some coffee. I just made it.”
“Thanks. I’ll drink it out on the deck while you talk to Bryan.”
After swapping the mug for the phone, Chloe turned away from him. Pointedly.
Wincing, Donovan carried his coffee out of the room. It wasn’t easy walking with both his feet in his mouth, he decided wryly.
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