Northern Rebel Daring in the Dark - By Jennifer Labrecque Page 0,74

otherwise run away from.

“Okay, I’ll go. But I’ll have to meet you there,” Simon said. He stood and picked up his equipment bag.

Elliott dropped into his chair, his relief evident. “Nine o’clock. Her place. Do you remember the way?”

He’d dropped her off once with Elliott. “Sure.” He shifted the camera bag to his shoulder and turned for the door.

“Simon...” Elliott said.

He turned again to face Elliott.

“You’re a good friend.”

Righto. He was a good friend to be obsessively, compulsively in love with his best friend’s woman.

2

TAWNY GLANCED AT THE CLOCK on her dresser. Fifteen minutes until Elliott and Simon arrived. She discarded her skirt on the closet floor and defiantly pulled on a pair of shorts. She’d gotten home from running errands and had plenty of time to shower and shave her legs. And now she was dithering about what to wear. As if it mattered.

Her fiancé and his best friend, the guy who disliked her intensely, were coming over with take-out Thai. After a year of living here, one of the things she still loved about New York was the variety of fabulous food within blocks, even if a Southern-girl transplant couldn’t find grits or sweet tea.

She looked over the clothes in her closet. It wasn’t as if they were going anywhere or she was looking to impress anyone. She picked up a faded T-shirt from her very first 5K run and promptly discarded it. Nah, Elliott had a thing about her dressing up, even if they were staying in. And even though she wasn’t entering a beauty contest, her Southern upbringing drew the line at having anyone over and wearing that.

She laughed at herself. And no, she still couldn’t bring herself to wear white after Labor Day or before Easter. She might be living on Manhattan’s Upper West Side but she’d always be Tawny Edwards with Savannah, Georgia, sensibilities. Funny, she’d come to New York to find out who she was and what she was about. She smiled. Wouldn’t her mother be surprised that the rebellious Edwards family screwup still adhered to the rules of white?

She settled instead on a halter wrap. Casual but sexy. And more important, cool—a major plus considering how stinking hot it was outside. She finished dressing and closed the closet door on the discarded clothes littering the floor. She pulled her hair up and clipped it haphazardly with a giant barrette underneath. Even with the air-conditioning cranked, the sweltering heat seemed to seep inside.

She spritzed perfume behind her ears and, on a defiant whim, sprayed it between her breasts. Simon might not like her, but dammit, he’d at least like the way she smelled.

She sang along with a Roberta Flack remake playing on the radio in the other room. She loved the evening program—Sensual Songs and Decadent Dedications—which offered a nice mix of old and new love songs. And who cared if she was off-key?

She tugged at her shorts. She’d skipped her run this morning and she felt it in their snug fit. Some women were blessed with svelte, slender bodies that actually fit into sylphlike fashions. She, however, didn’t belong to that club. She’d learned long ago that eating half of what was on her plate and exercising every day was the only thing that kept her from resembling the Pillsbury Doughboy in drag. Petite and curvy all too easily slid into short and fat.

Tawny made the mistake of double-checking her behind in the mirror while she sang about him killing her softly with his song. Ugh. It was still there...all of it and then some. Elliott was right. The last time they were in bed, he’d mentioned that her butt had gotten bigger. Not exactly what she’d wanted to hear, but she supposed the truth sometimes hurt.

She’d seriously considered having her ass liposuctioned with her last bonus, but what if those fat cells relocated to her thighs or some other equally heinous body destination? Unwilling to risk fat-cell transference, she did an extra set of butt-killing donkey lifts every other day. And from the looks of things, it was time to make that a daily habit.

An outraged yowl in the other room diverted her attention from the shortcomings—or rather the overabundance—of her behind. She went into the kitchen and dumped a measure of cat food into the empty bowl by the refrigerator.

“Uh-huh. You’re as close to wasting away as I am.” She laughed and snatched Peaches up for a quick hug before he squirmed out of her arms. “But I understand. I’m