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“Sorry,” he whispers in an almost comically soft tone. “I just meant she didn’t break skin. She’s hanging from my pants.”
I exhale, my shoulders dropping away from my ears in relief. “Thank God,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry. She doesn’t usually get aggressive unless someone is coming in hard and fast.” I reach for the ferret, whispering, “Here now, love. It’s all right. He isn’t going to hurt us. I promise. There, now.” As her body goes still, I cradle her bottom in one hand and reach for her mouth with the other. “Just let go. That’s right.” I apply gentle pressure to both sides of her jaw with my fingers and thumb.
After a beat, her small fangs slide free from Wesley’s pants, leaving two tiny holes behind.
Rocking her in the crook of my arm, I step back, scratching her scruff until her clucking takes on more of a purring quality. Only when she’s relaxed do I tell Wes, “Okay, you can stand up and back away slowly.”
“Standing,” he says, rising from his crouched position, his hands still raised. “But is it okay if I don’t back away just yet? I wanted to apologize.”
“All right,” I say, my fingers still playing through Freya’s fur beneath her ribbon. “You’ve apologized. Now, you can go tell Barrett that you’re not dying.”
“Please, Tessa, can’t we talk?” he asks, his voice low and soft and every bit as sexy as I remember. God, I love the way he says my name. No one has ever been able to make me shiver with a single word the way he does.
But no one has ever made me so ashamed of myself, either.
This sweet-and-dirty-talking man turned me into a cheater. Or a cheating accomplice, anyway, and that’s not something I can forgive. Especially considering the way things played out after our night in the woods.
He didn’t end things with his girlfriend that day, the way he insisted he would. He stayed with Darcy for another two months.
Two months during which I felt like a monster, torn apart by guilt.
A part of me desperately wanted to tell her that Wes had cheated, but that wasn’t my place. And I was a little terrified of what would happen if she found out. My internet stalking led me to believe that Darcy was a sweet woman, beloved by the other dental hygienists in her practice, but her twin sister was another story. Daria seems flat-out terrifying, the kind of maniac who jumps out of airplanes for fun and has a habit of getting hauled into the police station for “brawling” at the local honky-tonk.
I am not a woman who “brawls.” I’ve never even slapped another person. The most violence I’ve exhibited was while defending myself from Carl.
So, I kept my silence, letting the guilt eat me alive and my resentment toward this very sexy man grow with every passing day. And yes, he finally did end things, but by then, it was too late.
Way too late.
Too late for his apology to make any difference or for there to be any chance for there to be anything between us. Even friendship would be a stretch…mostly because I know I can’t be friends with someone I want to lick as much as I want to lick Wesley McGuire.
So, I lift my nose into the air and say, “There’s nothing to talk about.”
His brows draw together. “You don’t believe that. I know you don’t. That night was special, Tessa. You felt it, too, I know you did.”
“What I felt is irrelevant,” I say. “I was feeling things without all the facts, rendering those feelings meaningless.” I cuddle the ferret closer. “Now, you should go before you upset Freya again. Like I said, she doesn’t care for men.”
“Then why did you bring her to an event with literally dozens of men in attendance?” he asks. “Not to be an asshole, but I think it’s a reasonable question.”
Standing up straighter, I huff, “She isn’t dangerous. Yes, sometimes, she’ll charge at someone if they’re charging at me, but that’s only because she’s a very sweet, protective little beast. She’s never come after someone who was just walking before.” I arch an imperious brow. “Maybe she sensed something uniquely awful about you. Ever think of that?”
He winces, almost making me feel bad until he says, “I’m not awful. I made a mistake, but it isn’t one I ever intend to make again. Haven’t you ever done something you weren’t proud of?”
“Yes,” I say, my pulse picking up again. “I helped a man cheat and kept quiet about it for two whole months while he strung his girlfriend along, and I’ve felt horrible about it ever since. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to—”
He reaches out, catching my elbow as I start past him, triggering another warning dook from Freya. He pulls his hand away as her snout shifts toward him but doesn’t step back.
In fact, the ballsy man leans forward, until his lips are only a few inches from mine before he whispers, “I can explain. Please, give me a chance to explain. Let me take you to dinner tomorrow night. Just one night, one meal, and if you still hate me afterward, I’ll stay out of your way. I promise. I just…I can’t stop thinking about you, Tessa. About that night. It was special to me. You’re special.”
I’m weakening, I can feel it.
Amazingly, so is Freya.
When I glance down—needing a break from Wesley’s soul-penetrating breed of eye contact—I’m shocked to see Freya leaning into the fingers Wes scratches gently at her neck.
Freya’s hatred of all male beings is the reason I’m fostering her in the first place. When my cousin Nancy’s third husband moved in last year, Nancy assumed the two of them would eventually learn to get along. But six months and numerous turds-in-his-shoes later, Allan issued an ultimatum—it was him or the beastie.
Knowing Allan, I would have chosen the ferret, but Nancy was on her way to drop Freya at the shelter when I ran into her at my aunt’s house. Feeling sorry for the poor thing, I agreed to foster her for a few months, until the heat blew over at home and Nancy might be able to talk Allan into giving Freya another chance.
