For Seven Nights Only - Sarah Ballance Page 0,29
guys,” Kelsie said. “Truly.”
Jana hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay, you know, with…your ex—”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, clear evidence that she was not fine. Not at all.
“Okay, good. Because you know how I said I didn’t want a bachelorette party?”
Oh. God. No. “Yes, you did say that. Emphatically.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind!” Jana squealed. She honest-to-God, grown-ass-woman squealed.
Kelsie closed her eyes and prayed for some kind of apocalypse. “Your wedding is a little over a week away. I’m not sure you get to just change your mind.”
“I know. I know this is last minute,” Jana said, again with the squeal, “but there’s this club and I’ve been dying to go. We can just all meet there, so you’ll hardly have to do a thing.”
“Wait…me?” But even as she asked, she knew. It was her job. But the fact that between her mother and her sister, she’d had nothing to do with the wedding had left her off her game. Briefly she wondered if Marmaduke could be convinced to leave her hair alone and instead chew off her head. Unlike with the hair tie, there was meat involved.
“You are the maid of honor, not to mention my sister,” Jana said, borderline offended. “Of course you’re going to throw the party. How’s a week from tonight?”
“Um, yeah.” A knock sounded at the door. Kelsie glanced at the clock. It was after nine. She stood and went to the peephole. Sawyer? She swung open the door, realizing as she did that her sister was still talking. “Sounds good,” Kelsie interrupted. “Look, I need to go. Text me the details you want, and I’ll see if I can reserve a spot or whatever you do for that kind of place.”
“Oooh, you’re the best. Thank you!”
Kelsie ended the call without saying good-bye. “What are you doing here?”
He held out a small package. “I thought your rat might like some real food, so I went out and asked around until someone told me what kind of meat Chihuahuas were allowed, and I bought an assortment. And it’s precooked. Because you’re a shit cook.”
Her heart bloomed. “That was…almost really sweet.”
“Can I come in?”
She glanced down at her sleep shorts and tank top. “Yeah,” she said. “You can come in.”
He handed her the package. “You feed him. I don’t want to interfere with your routine.”
She blinked. “You show up here after nine carrying a bag of meat, and you think feeding the dog is what’s going to put me over the edge?”
“Experience suggests it doesn’t take much,” he said dryly.
She cleared her throat. “I figured you’d have a…date.”
“I do,” he said, and her stomach dropped. “Fucking opera tomorrow. I still can’t believe I agreed to it.”
She wasn’t sure what to say, so she peeled back the wrapping of Sawyer’s gift. Marmaduke immediately perked, then jumped off the sofa and trotted over. He paused to growl at Sawyer but was quickly distracted when she put a couple of small pieces of meat in his dish. While the dog chowed down, she rewrapped the rest, then placed it in the fridge. He’d already had his rations for the day, but a small treat wouldn’t hurt.
She washed her hands and was suddenly without anything to do to distract her from the unfairly sexy man wearing well-worn jeans and a faded T-shirt and taking up space in her apartment. “We’re not having sex,” she said.
“You’re doing it wrong,” he announced at nearly the same time.
“Doing what wrong?” There was no telling where his mind had gone since she’d been stupid enough to mention sex.
“The takeout carton. It’s supposed to open into a plate.”
Relief washed over her. Chinese food was the safest of all topics. She could do this. “I don’t care what the Internet says. I prefer to eat out of the box.”
He walked over and plopped down on the sofa. Then he picked up her pork fried rice.
“Don’t you dare,” she warned.
“This from today?” he asked, peering inside.
“Yes. Sawyer Chase, don’t you dare deconstruct my box.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.”
She rolled her eyes, then sat at the other end of the sofa. “Still a pig.”
“I’m really not.”
His voice was quiet. It caught her off guard but didn’t steal her fight. “You have meaningless sex with every woman who will have you. That’s quite swine-like.” She punctuated that with a jab at his leg with her foot.
“Nope.” He captured her foot mid-assault, propped it on one of his thighs, and started rubbing. “I don’t lie