Page 21 of The Best of Friends
He laughed. “Someone’s been watching a little too much National Geographic Channel. Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I’m crabby. Apparently I don’t do the pain thing well. And as much as I hate to repeat myself, and I do say this hoping to sound really warm and friendly, but why are you here?”
“I’m checking up on you. I’m somewhat responsible for your breaking your wrist yesterday, so I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. I don’t have your number, so I couldn’t call. The thought of asking my mother for the number sent me down a road I didn’t want to go, and apparently you and Rebecca aren’t talking.”
Jayne stared at him. “We’re not?”
David grimaced and swore. “Maybe I’m wrong.”
“I doubt that. Rebecca said we’re not talking?”
He hesitated. “She implied something had happened earlier today. She was muttering. I didn’t push too hard.”
Jayne’s first reaction was guilt, quickly followed by annoyance. “I know she’s your sister, and God knows I love her, but sometimes she’s the most self-absorbed person on the planet.”
“Just sometimes?”
Jayne managed a smile. “A friend of mine stopped by to check on me. Katie. You met her at the hospital.”
“I remember.”
“I think Rebecca was hurt that I had another friend.” She shook her head. “Is that crazy?”
“With anyone but my sister.” David led the way into the kitchen. “Rebecca doesn’t share well. Especially not you.”
“So I should feel special?” She motioned to the small dinette set in the corner by the window. “Have a seat.”
He crossed the room in three long strides. “You’d probably go off on me again if I said anything about the table, right?”
“Are we talking more goats?”
“I was going to mention cattle, but you’re pretty sensitive.” He set the two bags on the table. “Chinese. I got one of everything because I didn’t know what you like. So what we need now are plates.”
Plates? As in something to put the food on? She was having trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that David was actually here… in her condo. Was he staying to eat with her? She couldn’t figure out a way to ask without being rude, so she kept the question to herself and pointed to the cupboard with the plates. When he collected two, she had her answer.
She put out flatware and napkins. “I have wine,” she said. “Either color.”
“Very cosmopolitan. How about red?” He put cartons of takeout on the table. “Wine okay with your prescription?”
“No, but I’m not taking the painkillers anymore. They don’t agree with me. I’ll do the ibuprofen thing until the swelling goes down.”
Five minutes later they were sitting across from each other at her small table. There was plenty of food, a nice merlot, and David Worden smiling at her. What was wrong with this picture?
“Need me to cut your food?” he asked. “Or feed you? I’m good at that sort of thing.”
“It’s egg rolls,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“If you change your mind, just let me know.”
“You’ll be the first.”
Which apparently didn’t impress him as he scooped food onto her plate.
“And if I don’t want that much?” she asked, pointing to the large portion of chow mein noodles.
“Not my problem.” He picked up his fork. “Don’t sweat the thing with Rebecca.”
Jayne wasn’t sweating it, exactly. She felt… weird. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her.”
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