Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,5

and a long necklace made of coral beads.

“Hey, you,” Jenna said, hugging Delilah tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

Delilah squeezed her and then pulled back. “Missed you too. Glad we’re going to get some girl time in, now that you’re back.”

Back. What a weird word. She’d never planned to return to Tory. She’d gone to school in New York and worked there for years. Her plan had been to stay there, but as time went on, it became apparent she wasn’t happy. As much as she loved the city, she was tired of the pressure, of the people, of the cost of living. She hadn’t been willing to give it up, though, because a little bit of it felt like admitting defeat. But when her father offered her a job back home as the publicity director for his financial firm, she took it. After an employee discrimination lawsuit—that her father ultimately won—the firm’s public image was in the crapper. Her father had called on the old “family must help family” adage, and so here she was.

Being back in Tory had rekindled some old dreams she used to have—a nice house with a yard in the suburbs. A husband and kids. Growing up, she’d never been close to her family. They’d lived in a big house, which only gave them the excuse not to interact with each other. Unlike Cal’s family. Despite Jack’s absence in the Payton sons’ upbringing, the brothers had been close. She’d admired that. Craved it, even. Back in high school, Cal had dreamed about starting a family, hoping to do a better job than either of their parents did.

But that had been the dream then, and slowly, she’d let it fade. It was still there, though, if she squinted hard enough. And seeing Cal again had already wiped away some of the cobwebs that had covered that dream.

She’d been back in town for a week, having rented a little two-bedroom colonial in a decent neighborhood until she figured out where she wanted to be long term. She started work on Monday and planned to dive in headfirst to improve how the area viewed MacMillan Investments. Not that she was a huge fan of the firm, but it was family, and at the end of the day, her last name was on the letterhead.

But that was next week. For now, she was going to spend time with her oldest, truest friend. Jenna gestured around Delilah’s shop. “It looks great in here. Business okay?”

Delilah fixed a gauzy tunic on the rack next to her. “Yeah, it hasn’t been bad. Tory is getting better. More businesses are opening, which means more people and people with money.” She winked. “But they still like to buy cheap.”

“And you have great stuff.”

“I have excellent stuff.” Delilah snapped her fingers and stepped to another rack. She shuffled through the hangers quickly. “Actually, a dress just came in, and all I could think was, this would look fabulous on Jenna.”

“Oh, Delilah—”

She snapped her fingers again. “What was I thinking? I put it aside so no one would buy it.” She walked around her counter and bent down behind the register. Smiling, she held up a sleeveless, green- and cream-colored chevron dress. “See? Isn’t it gorgeous? And there’s a little green matching belt.”

Jenna fingered the material, which was lightweight. The fabric flowed beautifully. “I could wear this to work with my—”

Delilah shook her head. “No, how about you wear this out for dinner and drinks with me tomorrow?”

Tomorrow was Thursday. It wasn’t like Jenna had to get up for work until Monday. She raised her eyebrows. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

Delilah didn’t even blink. “I’m telling you.”

Jenna smirked. “Of course you are.”

“Come on.” Delilah shimmied the dress. “I know you’re used to high-class New York drinks, and all we have here is Tory, Maryland, drinks, but I think you can lower your standards a little bit.”

Jenna laughed. “Oh, stop. As much as I loved New York, I certainly was never as close to anyone as I am to you.” And maybe that was why it’d been so easy to leave. And so easy to come back home.

Delilah pretended to wipe away a tear. “You really know how to talk to a girl.”

Waggling her fingers, Jenna said, “All right, so tell me how much the dress is, and I’ll take it off your hands.”

“Well, you can just take it—”

Jenna shook her head and dug her wallet out of her purse. “Stop. Don’t you dare give this to