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“Oh, my God!” Hazel exclaimed. “The man should be flogged!”
Damaris gave her a dirty look. “He lied to me. All this crap about his grandma was a ploy to make me fall in love with him. Or at least, to show me how good we are together.”
“Are you?” Chantel asked.
“What? Good together?” She started to snap out a rude answer but then she thought about it. Really thought about it. About all the things they’d done when they were simply friends. Riding, flying, hanging out. Watching movies—surprisingly they both liked many of the same ones. Playing cards. Kicking his ass at gin rummy, which she suspected he let her do. She thought about how comfortable she was with him. How they could finish each other’s sentences so much of the time. He understood her. He knew what made her tick.
Then she thought about the months since they’d been pretending to be together. Of course, she couldn’t think about that without thinking about the sex. Amazing sex. Soul-stirring sex. Making love. Not just sex but making love. Even thinking about it made her belly—and other parts—clench. Her stomach did somersaults. They fit together. They knew each other. Really knew each other. They—
“She’s thinking about the sex,” Hazel observed sotto voce. “See, now she’s blushing. I rest my case.”
No point denying it when it was obvious. “Sex isn’t the only thing to consider,” Damaris said primly.
Every one of the other women laughed. “No,” Chantel agreed. “But it sure as hell helps.”
“Definitely,” Jaclyn agreed, eyes sparkling.
“Fine,” Damaris said, laughing. “I’ll give you that sex is important.” Sobering, she added, “But so is being truthful.”
“Damaris, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but what did Nate lie about?” Ella asked her.
Jaclyn looked at her. Your story, her expression said.
So she told them about Warner. Just the basics but enough for them to understand why she felt the way she did. “It was—he—oh, damn it, Nate lied by omission. Which is still a lie.”
“What did he omit to tell you?”
“Yes, Damaris,” Jaclyn said. “Tell them.”
After giving Jaclyn a dirty look, she said, “He’s been in love with me since we met. Which he didn’t tell me until recently. Some bullshit about me running if he’d told me the truth. He claims we wouldn’t even have become friends if he hadn’t backed off as soon as I friend-zoned him.”
“Is it bullshit?” Ella asked. “Or is he right? Would you have run?”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “Okay, yes.”
Chantel frowned. “So you’re equating Nate not telling you he was in love with you with the man who lied to you about having two wives and a bunch of girlfriends?”
“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”
“You said it, not me,” Jaclyn commented.
“Thanks a lot. I’m going riding.” She took her trash to the can in the kitchen.
“Apparently my intervention idea didn’t work,” Hazel said.
“I appreciate y’all wanting me to be happy. I really do. But I still don’t know what I should do.”
She opened the kitchen door and Jaclyn said, “While you’re riding ask yourself this question. Why are you trying so hard not to be with the man you love?”
*
Riding her horse always made Damaris feel better. But it wasn’t working today. She took a well-trodden path, so she didn’t have to pay as close attention. She tried to let go and relax, but all she could think about was Nate. Damn it, she missed him. Missed him so much it was like having a big, empty hole where he used to be.
An intervention, for God’s sake. What were her friends thinking? Obviously she hadn’t been dealing with things as well as she believed. She thought about Jaclyn’s parting shot. Why are you trying so hard not to be with the man you love?
Why indeed? Had Nate ever lied to her about anything else? Other than this lie of omission, not that she knew of. She remembered getting so frustrated with him when she set him up with someone and he’d go out with her and then…nothing. And he never said anything beyond, ‘yes, she was nice’ or ‘yes, she was pretty.’ Well, now she knew why. He’d been in love with another woman. Her.
Cinnamon shied suddenly and Damaris went flying, landing on her butt and back. She couldn’t breathe. She knew she’d had the air knocked out of her but for a moment she almost panicked. Finally, she drew in a deep breath. Cursing herself for being a fool, she lay on the ground, trying to take stock of her injuries. Whatever had frightened Cinnamon must have disappeared. Possibly a snake if she had to guess. Or, just as likely, it could be nothing. There was no way to tell. Her horse didn’t spook easily but there were a few things that bothered her, snakes being one of them. Cinnamon, being well trained, not to mention Damaris never having let go of the reins, stood by patiently waiting for Damaris to get her shit together and remount.
