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He’s such a sap, Marlys thought. I can’t believe he bought a ring and ever thought I’d say yes.
“He doesn’t deserve you using him,” Dean said.
Guilt had no place here. “Believe me, I don’t think he’d complain.”
Dean’s eyebrows rose. “That good, huh?”
The cheerful whistle emerged from the kitchen and approached them again. Pharmaceutical Phil looked oblivious to the tension in the entryway—and damn self-satisfied, too. Marlys cast him a look, then sent a more pointed one at Dean. “What do you think?”
Phil leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for the…” He let the sentence trail off as if, again, he only now realized there was an audience.
Marlys rolled her eyes. “Boffing you was just what I needed this afternoon,” she replied. “Good-bye, Phil.”
Maybe, finally, the thick atmosphere registered in Phil’s thick skull. “Good-bye, Marlys.” He sketched a little wave, then ducked past the other man and headed toward the street where she’d instructed him to leave his car. She’d wanted to make this moment a complete surprise for Dean.
She squared her shoulders. “Would you like to come in?” she asked the man. Or he could do the big scene in the doorway. His pick.
“I think I’ll stay right here, if you don’t mind.”
“Fine.” Better than fine. Because in closer quarters they would both smell the scent of Phil’s Armani cologne on her skin. She’d selected it for him herself, as she recalled, but now the fragrance was like rotting fish to her senses. Her palms slid over flannel again and she thought of the shower upstairs with longing. She wanted to wash in the worst way, but she’d put it off for just this reason.
And after Dean got through with her, she’d probably want to shower away his loathing, too.
But he wasn’t gazing on her with revulsion like she’d planned. Instead, he was shaking his head and looking at her with…she didn’t know what to call it. Pity?
“Angel. I knew you were scared, but this? Why didn’t you just say something?”
“Say what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Panic was fluttering in her belly, same as every time he kissed her, same as every time she thought of him soldiering in Afghanistan. Screwing Phil was supposed to put a stop to that! Screwing Phil was supposed to get Dean out of her life, but instead he seemed to have grown roots in her porch in order to give his X-ray vision another chance at looking inside her soul.
The one she didn’t have, damn it.
“You’re terrified,” Dean said. “I had no idea how much this thing between us frightened you.”
“Hah,” she started, but then couldn’t think of any follow-up that wouldn’t sound desperate and hollow. “Hah,” she said again, fainter. It was embarrassing as hell that tough-skinned, tough-talking Marlys Marie Weston couldn’t come up with anything better than that.
“Oh, angel.”
He was doing it again. Making her feel soft and vulnerable and female. Here she was, standing with some other man’s smell on her and because Dean wasn’t turning away, she was so ridiculously grateful she felt like crying.
Even though she knew there were only more tears in her future if she didn’t get a hold of herself. If she let herself care for the man, this man going off to his soldier’s world, she’d be powerless. He could forget about her, he could find someone else, he could…he could…
He could die.
And the thought of that just…just… She reached in her robe pocket and squeezed the small silver pendant. The thought of that just pissed her off.
Tightening her hold on the anger, she put steel in her spine. “Dean—”
“Hey!” Pharmaceutical Phil was loping back up the driveway to stand in the circle of the porch light. “I almost forgot.”
She should have dumped him for his bad timing alone. “What? Your socks? Are your boxers under the bed?” Hearing herself, her face burned, but she couldn’t take the words back now.
“No, no,” Phil said. He reached in his jacket pocket and yanked out a small foil-covered box. “This was why I stopped by your boutique today, and then we got, um, sidetracked.”
Marlys reached around Dean to take the small gift. “Phil, you shouldn’t have.”
He looked embarrassed. “I probably should do something for you, but this isn’t from me. My brother asked me to give it to you. It’s those chocolate truffles you like.”
“Oh.” Marlys shoved the box in her pocket, going cold and queasy again. “Thanks. Great. See you later, Phil.”
