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“Goodnight, Savina.”
CHAPTER3
Savina parked her truck in the Brandt Veterinary Clinic’s lot and cut the engine. She smoothed gloss onto her lips, pinched her cheeks, and studied herself in the rear-view mirror. She looked okay, maybe a little too excited for a woman taking her foster dog to an appointment to basically pee in a cup, but she couldn’t help it. Hal worked as a vet tech at Brandt Clinic and she always looked this way whenever there was a possibility of seeing Hal. Which was pathetic and ridiculous, and it just seemed like such a fucking cliche to be lusting after your husband’s best friend.
But she was, and she had long since stopped denying it.
It did make her a total asshole, though. Hal had been good to her and a solid rock for her to cling to after Alan’s death. His wife had died seven years prior, and while the intensity of his grieving had lessened, he’d understood what Savina went through. He’d even been the one to tell her about the grief group for people who’d lost their partners. He no longer attended the group, but he was honest about how much it helped him the first few years and encouraged her to attend a meeting.
She’d gone with a fair amount of trepidation, but even after the first meeting, she knew it would help. She had her brother Warren and her niece Harper to help her through her grief, and although Warren knew too well what it felt like to lose a spouse, there was a specific understanding she received from other women who’d gone through the same loss.
Hal had been instrumental in helping her through the grieving process, and how did she repay his kindness? By lusting after him like a silly teenage girl. And now they were no longer friends, and the loss of Hal and his friendship was a brand new type of hell.
She’d had no guilt over Alan’s death. Anger, sadness, despair… yes. But not guilt. After all, she hadn’t given Alan stage four pancreatic cancer. But she had no one to blame but herself for what happened with Hal.
She slumped back in her seat, staring blankly at her truck’s dashboard. It wasn’t like she’d never noticed how handsome Hal was, even when she was married to Alan. But it was in more of a ‘hey, that guy’s good looking’ way rather than an ‘I want that guy to be balls-deep inside of me’ way.
Until that damn Sunday afternoon. If she’d known asking Hal to help her build an Ikea dresser would have changed the course of their friendship, she’d have burned the fucking dresser. But how could she have known?
She hadn’t expected that watching Hal sitting on the floor of her guest bedroom in a patch of sunlight, carefully and precisely sorting out screws, bolts, and pieces of wood would be the catalyst for bringing her lady bits back to life.
She’d chalked it up to a weird blip at first. Just her head, or rather her sex drive, getting confused for an afternoon. Could she blame it? She hadn’t had sex in over two years, and Hal was kind, smart, and gorgeous. He’d been growing a beard – a new look for him - and while she’d teased him about the silver laced through it, she’d also secretly thought it made him look sexy as hell.
She’d pushed aside the tingling in her crotch and how her nipples had tightened when their hands touched while they built the dresser and told herself all afternoon that it meant nothing.
But she couldn’t convince herself it was nothing when, later that night, as she masturbated alone in her bed, images of Hal kept popping into her head. The bulge of his biceps as he lifted the dresser and the hint of his flat stomach she’d seen when his shirt lifted. She’d rubbed her clit in hard, firm circles while she thought about her sudden desire to drop to her knees, unbuckle his belt, and find out just how big Hal’s dick was.
That last image - her on her knees in front of Hal, his big hand palming the back of her skull as he urged her to suck his dick - had gotten her off like a fucking rocket. She’d ridden that orgasm high for nearly a minute, her body shuddering and shaking hard enough to make the bedsprings squeak.
She’d spent too much time over the last year wondering what Hal was like in bed. Would he be gentle or rough, tender or demanding? Her fantasies consumed her for the next few weeks after that Sunday afternoon. Hal bending her over the couch. Hal spreading her out on the big farm table in her kitchen and burying his face in her pussy like she was an all-you-could-eat buffet. Hal in her bed, his hands on her hips encouraging her to move harder and faster as she rode him to her release.
She’d tried hard to hide her newly discovered lust for him but failed spectacularly. Hal had started to pull away from her after that Sunday afternoon. Slowly at first and in subtle ways. Not replying to her texts as quickly as he used to, missing a few of their long-standing Sunday night dinners, and being too busy to go antiquing with her or catch the latest action movie at the theatre. She’d been so caught up in her lust for him that it had taken her a shamefully long time to notice the tension he now carried whenever he was near her.
Shame left her feeling sick and humiliated when it finally became apparent he was avoiding her. Her fawning over him, her obvious crush, had ruined their friendship, and she’d do anything to get it back.
But life didn’t always work out the way one hoped or wanted. Even now, knowing Hal had ended their friendship because of her crush, she still wanted him. The few men she’d dated in the last nine months had all been a desperate attempt to forget how much she wanted Alan’s best friend.
She smoothed a shaking hand over her face. She’d been sitting in the truck for nearly five minutes, and if she didn’t get into the clinic in the next two, she’d be late for Izzie’s appointment.
She turned in her seat to smile at the golden lab mix sitting patiently in the back seat. “You ready to be a good girl and pee on demand for us, Izzie?”
The dog’s tail thumped on the seat.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Savina said. “Also, can you send good vibes, that I don’t see Hal this visit? I need more time to recover from the humiliation of the pub incident.”
Izzie chuffed at her, and Savina smiled before climbing out of the truck. She opened the back door and took Izzie’s leash. Izzie jumped down, sniffing at the ground. She started to squat, and Savina gave her leash a gentle tug. “Hey, not here, sweetie. Save that for the cup.”
Izzie woofed but followed her toward the vet clinic’s front door. The gravel crunched under their feet, and the air was crisp and clean after last night’s crazy storm. Thankfully, the worst of the iciness on the roads had melted, and she’d had no issues driving to the clinic.
She stepped into the clinic. Until a few weeks ago, her brother Warren owned the vet practice, but he’d sold it to Nathan Henshaw, a young vet who started working at the clinic last year. Savina had questioned Warren’s decision at first, but after meeting Nathan, any trepidation she felt disappeared. He was intelligent and kind and had a great deal of respect for Warren, and while it was a bit of a rough patch for him right now in terms of the townfolk accepting him as the new owner, she hoped it would blow over quickly.
For the first time in a long time, her brother seemed happy and relaxed, and she wanted it to stay that way. He, more than anyone, deserved peace.
“Hi, Savina!” Fatima, one of the receptionists, waved at her from the desk. “You’re here for your appointment with Izzie?”
“That’s right,” Savina said.
“Great, let’s get you into the room. Dr. Warren will be right with you.”
