“I lied. I’m rich enough to get takeout.”
She gave a long sigh. “I’m disappointed in you. And I swear, if I see you smoke again, I’m calling her.”
He glowered at her. “Some friend you are. I quit, okay? It was just one slipup.”
Gen popped the aspirin into her mouth and swallowed. “Fine. You know how many cases we get at the hospital for lung cancer? Throat cancer? How about living without a tongue or a voice box and having to speak with a machine?”
He turned a shade pale. “You know I hate hearing stuff like that—cut it out.”
She puffed up with importance. “It’s my job to make you aware of the consequences of bad choices.”
“You’re a real Debbie Downer.”
She jumped in and imitated the old Saturday Night Live skit. “Whaa, whaa, whaa.”
They both cracked up. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Rice Krispies or Frosted Flakes?”
“Tony the Tiger, please.”
“You got it. Don’t be too long, I have a full day planned.”
He left. Gen grumbled under her breath, but as she sipped her coffee, she realized that when she was arguing with Wolfe, she wasn’t thinking about anything bad. He had this amazing ability to be real with her, yet not let her wallow. He listened, but he didn’t judge. He pushed, but never insulted. And damn, he was the best kisser she ever—
The thought broke off. Oh no. She had kissed her best friend last night. Or, he’d kissed her. The memory was a bit misty, but her body remembered the touch of those lips resting on hers, the writhing sexual heat that claimed her, the gorgeous press of his hips and erection against her core.
Horror washed over her. Gen dropped her face into her hands. This was bad. Very bad. What had she said afterward? Had she passed out before uttering something stupid? Would it make things weird for them? How could she have been so slutty, when she’d just left her fiancée at the altar?
The door opened. Wolfe stuck his head in.
“Oh, BTW, don’t worry about the kiss thing. You’re probably freaking out, but let’s not ruin the day. Deal?”
Her mouth dropped open. “R-r-right. I’m sorry, Wolfe. So sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She paused. “Umm, it was good though?”
A wicked grin tugged those lush lips. Once again, she was struck by his bad-boy hotness, the leather wristbands, tattoo, eyebrow ring, and those piercing blue eyes blazing in his face like he knew all the bad things to do to women and enjoyed every last one.
“Hell, yeah, it was good. But we were kinda drunk and sad and we needed it. No need for any weirdness between us. And I kissed you first, so don’t feel guilty.”
“Umm, okay.”
“Gen?”
“Yeah?”
He winked. “You’re an amazing kisser. If you weren’t my best friend, I would’ve tumbled you right there and you wouldn’t have had a shot.”
Her heart leaped and sudden hot need hit her gut. Her lips curved in a smile. “Thanks. I think.”
He laughed and shut the door. Damn the man. He had a talent for playing Jedi mind tricks on her, always sensing the right thing to say or do. Fine. If he wasn’t going to think about the kiss, neither was she. After a few moments, Gen managed to shower and pull on denim shorts, a yellow tank, and flip-flops. Face bare of makeup—she’d left that behind when she crawled out the window—she scooped her hair into a ponytail and made her way to the kitchen.
She slid onto the stool and dove into her cereal. She spooned up a banana slice and shot him a look. “Fruit, too? You’re getting to be a real gourmet.”
“Wait till you see what’s on the pizza for dinner.”
“What are we doing today?”
“Think Hemingway.”
She raised a brow. Damn, she’d forgotten how good Frosted Flakes could be in the morning. All that bran and granola was seriously sucking the fun out of her life. “Are you kidding? I’m still recovering from alcohol. And why do you look so chipper? That Sam Adams kicked my ass last night.”
He sipped his coffee and leaned against the counter. “You lost your edge, woman. Used to be able to keep up.”
“I got soft. Also switched to Michelob Ultra. I wasn’t prepared.”
Wolfe grinned. He looked just as casual as she did, with cutoff denim shorts, a navy blue T-shirt, and leather sandals. His hair was freshly washed and fell in damp waves over his forehead. The ring in his brow winked merrily, and the ink of his tattoo peeked through the collar of his shirt and climbed up sensuously over his neck. She always wondered why he’d picked a serpent. She’d never asked.
“You gonna tell me or are you going to torture me with more trivia?”
“Me, you, and the fish, baby.”
She blinked. “Are you kidding? That’s not fun! Sitting on some leaky, rotted dock catching smelly, wiggly fish so you can butcher them? I’m going back to bed.”
“Not on my vacay. We’re not sitting on the dock. This is much more exciting.”
“How so?”
“We’re renting a boat.”
She got up, put her bowl and spoon in the sink, and headed to the bedroom. “Good luck with that. Night.”
He caught her around the waist and swung her around. “You don’t have a choice. It’s gonna be epic. We’ll sail the seas, catch fresh fish, fry them up tonight for dinner, and bond with nature.”