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Vivienne

Harlowe Corbin is a saint. Literally--her job is saving lives. She goes into dangerous situations to help people in trouble. But if she doesn't stop texting me for status updates on my sex life my best friend is going to need rescuing from me .

It's irrational for me to be this annoyed with her, but I'm already painfully aware of Xavier's absence in my life--at least physically. We've exchanged daily texts and calls since I sent him the list, but we haven't seen each other in person.

That damn list is taunting me. And now, Harlowe's nosey face is popping up on my screen, no longer satisfied with the lack of information.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the middle of nowhere for cadaver training today?" As if on cue, Echo barks.

"Such a clever dog," she gushes and I can picture her ruffling Echo's black and brown fur, his adorably floppy ears bouncing. "He says, 'Hi, Auntie Vi. Tell my mom all about your baseball player.'"

"Let's start with the fact that Xavier is decidedly not mine . That's kind of the whole point of what we're doing. I'm not ready to give up my life for someone else." Then I sigh, adding, "He's also out of town, which you know." The wheels of my office chair squeak as I push back from my desk, crossing the office to close my door so I'm not overheard.

"You're a lying liar." She laughs loudly; it's one of my favorite sounds. "You made me hold your Ken doll during every pretend wedding ceremony. I was the host of every imaginary first birthday your hoard of Barbies had for their children growing up. He might not be yours , or even the one, but I know you still want those things."

She's bold and smart and she knows me too well. But all of that was before I watched my brother lose himself when Erica died. It was before the same pain sucked me into early motherhood for my big family and took the joy out of those childish dreams. Someday, I want more, but for now I'm committed to keeping the autonomy I have over my life.

"Plus, you look too happy for someone that only had one amazing orgasm with a hunky baseball player before going back to Solo-Landia."

Even if she is nosey as hell, she's my person. '"Oh god. Let's not call it that," I groan.

"Would you rather I call it Dry Vag Isle? Or No-Man-to-Mount Mountain."

"Pass--on all of it." My head whips side to side even though she can't see. "Absolutely not."

"Tell me the truth."

"I thought it was Echo that could sniff things out," I grumble. "Fine . . . there may have been some phone sex."

There's a pause and then she switches to FaceTime. A meadow, filled with wildflowers, comes into view behind her. Harlowe's long blonde braids are bright under the afternoon sun. Next to her, Echo lies on a crash pad. "I need to be fully immersed when you tell me this."

"How do you have reception out there?" Normally when she's in the field she's nearly impossible to reach.

"My best guess? Divine luck. Don't leave out the good bits, please. There's not a single man in Timberline Peak or the surrounding countries that interests me. I need this."

If she was anyone else, I'd be alarmed at her insistence. But Xavier's coming back today and I'm antsy to see him. Maybe talking to my best friend will help--like releasing a pressure valve.

So, I tell her almost every dirty detail. It ends up lightening my mood but it doesn't touch the nagging desire to see him.

"Xavier and I haven't even had sex yet. It's ridiculous that I'm daydreaming about him coming back and checking off another thing on our list," I rant to my best friend.

Harlowe is breathless with laughter on the other end of the phone when I hear her Team Leader telling her it's time to get back to work.

There's a drawn out sigh, like she's not ready for our conversation to end. My heart is heavy too. Her job and the time difference can make it hard for us to talk as much as we want. The fact that we got to FaceTime twice this week is a miracle.

Only a few more months until I can see her in person when I'm home later this summer for HarvestFest.

My parents host HarvestFest at Serra Brilhante Winery every year; it's a tradition I've never missed. Even in college, I'd come home for a long weekend to celebrate the season. Harlowe comes back too even though she doesn't live there any more.

"Time to go fetch some more body parts."

The cackle that tumbles out of me is unguarded. "Imagine hearing that out of context. Good luck with your limbs."

Harlowe snickers, making Echo lift his head. "Look at us making buried bones the theme. You with how badly you want the hot baseball player's bone, and me digging up femurs with my dog."

"You're depraved, and weird, and I love you."

"Love you too. I can't wait to see you and squeeze you in person. I demand a minimum of two minutes of hugging before I let you go."

That's a lot of hugging, but for her, I'll allow it.

"Let's go, Corbin," I hear Harlowe's supervisor say.

"God he's cranky these days, too much time on the mountain and not enough with his wife. I keep telling him to retire so I can have his job, but no . . ." She sighs dramatically and I know Travis is standing over her shoulder.

"And then you'll be in charge. God help us all," I tease before we hang up.

The rest of my day is a blur of meetings, reviewing grants, and donor outreach. Lunch comes and goes without me stopping to eat, so my head is buried in my purse, searching for a protein bar, a stick of gum, anything to get me through this email before I force myself to take a break and find some real food.

A tap at my office door stops me, I lift my head from my oversized purse, embarrassed to be caught foraging like a trash panda. My gaze climbs up muscular legs dusted with red hair and glee chases away my mortification.

Paper rustles and my stomach groans loudly when I see the bag from Buns & Roses clutched in Xavier's hand.

His feet are moving before I can invite him in. I blink once, twice, three times, not believing my eyes. "You're here."

"And it sounds like I got here right in time. Did you skip lunch, Vi?" I missed the deep tenor of his voice and how it turns soft when he says my name. It's better in person.

"Stop. It wasn't that loud."

"Whatever makes you feel better. Good thing I stopped to grab you a treat on my way. It's not Sugar Slice, but Lilah knows a thing or two about baking."

"You stopped by to bring me a snack?"

A rumble starts deep in his chest. I can almost feel it from across the office. He's closer than we've been in a week and not nearly close enough. "Among other things."

"What kind of things?" My eyes take in his tall frame, corded forearms, and the backward hat with red strands curling out from under it. He seems larger than life standing in my office.

"The kind that requires a locked door."

I laugh because I can't believe he's here. It's not exactly what we agreed to--somehow it's more. But I don't care. And it's not because he brought me food, although it certainly helps. "When did you get in?"

Xavier studies me as he locks the door and circles my desk. "They ended up flying us home overnight. I spent time with Holland this morning, then went into the stadium for physical training this morning after Tenley texted me to let me know there was no rush because Holland was sleeping."

"And you thought you'd spend your rare free time bringing me lunch?" He stops next to my chair, spinning it away from my desk, his hands flexing when he wraps them around the armrests and folds over me. I have to tip my head back to look at him, my throat bone dry as I try to swallow down my excitement. "Or did someone sell me out?"

"So, you did skip lunch, again ." With how close he is, the low din of his words shoots straight to my belly, making it flip before desire settles deeper, reminding me badly I've wanted him close for the past few days.