like either. You prefer ice-cold beer. Even then, you never have more than two a night.”
He leaned back slightly, unnerved that she knew so much about his taste. “What else do you know about me?”
“I know that anyone who has such strict rules for themselves about alcohol, probably has a parent who drinks. I’d guess your father—”
“It was my mother.”
“—but that would just be a guess.”
“You have any other theories?”
Between them Peyton stirred. He reached out a hand to place on Peyton’s belly to calm her. Wendy reached out at the same time and their fingers brushed. Wendy hesitated, then linked her fingers through his.
“I didn’t say it to make a point. I’m just…” She brushed her thumb back and forth over his. “There’s something about my family that makes people want to impress them. It’s made you want to impress them, or you wouldn’t have bent your no-hard-liquor rule.”
“My mom did drink,” he said slowly. “'Functioning alcoholic’ is the term people use now. You have any other old wounds you want to poke?”
The second the words left his mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.
Christ, he sounded like a jerk.
He opened his eyes, shoving up on his elbow to look at her. He fully expected to see a stung expression on her face. Instead, she just gave his hand a squeeze and sent him a sad smile.
“I’m sorry,” he admitted.
“Don’t apologize. I got a little carried away with the armchair psychology.” She was silent for a minute and he could hear the gears in her brain turning. “But since you mentioned it.”
“Okay, hit me with it. What horribly invasive question are you going to ask next? You want to know my deepest fear? Clowns. How much I’m actually worth? About—”
“Actually I wanted to know about Kristi.”
He fell silent.
“She was your—”
“I know who you mean.”
He didn’t say anything for a long time, all but praying she’d let it drop. She shifted in the bed beside him. Fidgeting, but saying nothing. She wasn’t going to let it drop, and if he didn’t respond soon, she’d think Kristi was a bigger deal than she had been.
“She was just someone I knew in high school. Who told you about her?”
He wanted to know who to kill. He hoped it wasn’t Matt or Ford, because murdering one of his business partners would probably be the end of FMJ.
“Claire,” Wendy answered.
Well, crap. He couldn’t very well kill a woman. Especially when she’d just married his best friend.
“Don’t be mad at her,” Wendy continued. “I practically begged for information.”
“Why on earth would you beg for information about my old high school girlfriend?”
“I dunno.” She rolled over, but with his eyes squeezed shut, he couldn’t tell if she was rolling toward him or away from him. “As dead set as you are against love… well, no one feels that way unless they’ve been hurt.”
“What did Claire tell you about Kristi?”
She didn’t answer right away. “Just that you were crazy about her. And she left.”
She’d paused long enough for him to know she’d been fabricating her answer. Condensing it down to the barest details.
But in his mind, he could all too easily imagine the longer version. The real version. The one where he made a complete ass of himself over Kristi. Where he handed her his whole heart… and did nothing but scare her away. “And?” he prodded.
“I figured… she must have been the one.” “And that’s what you surmised from Claire’s story? That Kristi was the one to break my heart?” “Am I wrong?”
What exactly was he supposed to say to that? Kristi had broken his heart. But he’d only been eighteen. “That was a lifetime ago.”
“What happened with her? What really happened?”
He forced his eyes open and tried to sound casual. “You’re the armchair psychologist. What do you think happened?”
She tilted her head to the side, considering. “I think that you, Jonathon Bagdon, are a pretty intense guy.”
He looked up at her. In the dark of the room, her skin was luminous. Her eyes were so dark they looked almost purple. She was so beautiful, it made his heart ache. As well as plenty of other parts of him.
Damn, but he wanted her. Not just her body. But all of her.
Thinking of her comment, all he could was mutter, “You have no idea.”
“The way I see it, I’m a grown woman. Someone who’s used to dealing with strong personalities. And there are times when even I’m a little overwhelmed by you. So this girl—Kristi?—she probably didn’t have a chance. I’m guessing you falling in love with her must have scared the hell out of her.”
“Yeah. That’s about it.” He let his eyes drift closed again. “This thing between us,” he began, but then corrected himself, “this physical thing between us, it’s pretty intense.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed softly. He opened his eyes to see her still sitting up, looking down at him. The look in her eyes made heat churn through his body, but it was her words that made his heart pound. “I’m not scared of you, Jonathon.”
“Maybe you should be.”
She tilted her head, studying him in the pink glow of the hippo. Indeed, she looked more aroused than frightened.
“Maybe.”
“Scratch that. You should definitely be afraid. If you knew half the things I want to do to you…”
She arched a brow, her expression a little curious, a little challenging. “You think you’re the only one with pent-up desire and an active imagination?”
Was she purposefully trying to destroy any chance he had of getting some sleep? Ever again?
“I think,” he answered her, “there’s a damn good chance you underestimate how sexy you look in a tank top.” It was hard to tell in the pink light, but he could have sworn she blushed. He couldn’t stop himself from going on. “And I also think you underestimate just how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you.”
Her chest rose as she sucked in a deep breath, highlighting all the wonderful things that tank top of hers did.
“You think you’re the only person this is hard for?” she asked.
“I
