Page 40 of Hidden Resolution

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry!” she blurted, horrified by the faux pas.

“Can we shelve the word ‘stab’ for a bit?” he asked wryly.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” she agreed, full of remorse. “Zack, I really am sorry.”

“You can make it up to me by being here tomorrow, eleven a.m. sharp.”

She grinned at how easily he manipulated her.

“I’ll be here,” she assured him. “Can I bring anything?”

“Nope. Just yourself.” Zack kissed her cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

With one hand on the door, she paused for a deep breath and to shove down the sudden wave of envy.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her, Zack.” She patted his arm, wishing she could ease his mind. “She told me you’re blaming yourself for the attacks. Don’t. You’re not responsible for all the crazies out in the world.”

He didn’t appear to believe her.

“Speaking of dastardly deeds, Mason told me about the break-ins down in St. Thomas. Any trouble since you’ve been home?” he asked.

“Dastardly deeds?” she echoed with a laugh, doing her best to ignore the surge of annoyance at Mason for sharing her business. “I can tell you’ve been hanging around an author.”

He didn’t crack a smile.

Okay, no deflecting this one.

“No, Zack. No dastardly deeds since I’ve been home. Either perpetrated by me or against me. Happy?”

With a grin, he nodded. “Tomorrow. Eleven.”

“Oh, and tell your brother I’m going to kick his ass for gossiping like an old woman,” she said with saccharine sweetness.

His grin widened. “You got it. And I can’t wait to see it.”

She stomped through the dusting of snow to her car.

“And shovel your damned sidewalk,” she called over her shoulder.

“Nag, nag, nag,” he hollered back. “Drive safe!”

Yep, Erica had definitely found herself a good one. The non-jealous part of her was genuinely thrilled for her friend.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Shonda started the engine and turned toward the grocery store. She’d wallowed long enough. If she didn’t buy cat food soon, her little fatties might start sizing her up for dinner.

Happy the store wasn’t crowded at this time of day, Shonda leisurely wandered the aisles. Peanut butter and jelly were added to her cart, followed by chocolate and cheese puffs. A trip down the pet aisle secured enough food to keep her beasties satisfied for at least three weeks. She ended her tour in the wine section, contemplating the best pairing for cheese puffs and chocolate. One contender went into the basket, and she picked up another to read the label.

A high-pitched giggle made her tense. It was familiar and as grating as nails on a chalkboard.

Rachel Westington.

Linked arm in arm with the very last man Shonda wanted to see.

Just her fucking luck.

Ducking behind a display, she crouched low.

Too late.