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“Yeah, I know.” He was lucky Travis had only thrown one punch. Especially when Zack, in good conscience, couldn’t fight back. “I don’t really blame him, given what he thought had happened here.”
“Whatever. He had no right to hit you.”
Zack shrugged again. “Water under the bridge.”
She walked over to him and touched his mouth with gentle fingers. “I’ll make you an ice pack. I don’t think the cube is doing much good. Do you have any plastic bags?”
“Maybe. If I do they’d be in that drawer.” He pointed to the bottom drawer beside the dishwasher.
She found a bag and made up his pack and handed it to him. “Can we sit? And do you have more coffee?”
“Have all you want.” He went into the living room and sat on the couch, placing the ice pack against his swelling lip.
Laurel came back and sat beside him. Picking up a magazine, she used it as a coaster and set her mug on the coffee table. Considering what his coffee table looked like, he had to smile at her caution. It gave the term distressed wood new meaning.
“I said it before but I’ll say it again. I owe you an apology. And a big thank you.”
“Forget it.” Gratitude was not what he wanted from Laurel. But now didn’t seem like the ideal time to tell her that.
She drank some of her coffee and set it back down. “About last night, I remember some stuff. Other stuff not so much. Will you tell me the truth when I ask you about it?”
“Yes.”
“Did we kiss?”
“Yes.”
“More than once?”
“Yes.” He tried to get that scene by the refrigerator last night out of his head, but there wasn’t a hope in hell that he could.
“But we didn’t have sex.”
“No. I told you that when you woke up.”
“Actually, you told me we’d made wild love.”
He shrugged. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Besides, I only let you think that for about a minute. Is there a point to this?”
“I’m trying to establish what happened and what is simply my imagination.”
“Whatever you’re imagining probably happened. Unless you’re imagining we had wild crazy sex. We didn’t.” But he sure as hell wanted to. “Are we done here?”
“Not quite.” She drank some coffee, set down her mug and folded her hands in her lap. Looking straight at him, she asked, “Did you tell me if I hadn’t been drunk you’d have taken me to bed?”
Shit. She remembered a lot more than he’d thought she would. Oh, hell. No reason not to admit it. Nothing about the night had gone as he’d planned. “Yes.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you mean it?”
“Absolutely.”
