Page 109 of The Friends and Rivals Collection

PERRI

I pull up to my house. Has he left me a note today? If there’s one inside, will it make my stomach flip?

I look in the rearview mirror. “Settle down, lady cakes. You don’t need a note. You don’t need a man. You don’t need a thing.”

When I’m inside, I avoid the kitchen. I head to my bedroom to shower and change.

After considering yoga pants again, I opt for a summery skirt instead, adding a tank top to keep it casual.

Perusing the outfit in the mirror, I decide I’ve pulled it off.

When I check the time, I’ve successfully distracted myself for five minutes.

I head to the kitchen, looking for a love letter.

I mean, hunting for something easy to make to eat.

The first thing I see isn’t food.

It’s a note, and it gives me goose bumps.

This is your fair warning, not that you deserve it. But I plan to test your resistance shortly.

With another type of kiss.

I close my eyes, wishing, hoping. The hope dashes through me, warring with my resolve. When I open my eyes, Derek’s here, in the kitchen, wearing next to nothing.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Walk around like a cat. I didn’t hear you.”

He points to his feet. “It’s called no shoes.”

“Still, you’re so quiet. You’re like a Tesla.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I stare at him, wishing I didn’t like the view so much. Attraction is so annoying. He wears basketball shorts and nothing else. My temperature rises, along with my frustration. “I thought we agreed it made no sense for anything more to happen.”

“What makes you think something is going to happen?”

“Because you’re . . .” I flap my hand at him.

“Shirtless?”

“Yes. You’re so shirtless, and so ripped, and it’s so not fair.”

He laughs. “I didn’t realize you were so tempted.”

“You’re tempting, and you know it.”

“Want me to put a shirt on?”

“Yes. No. Whatever.”

“Excellent. That’s what I was looking for.”

“To mess with my head?”

His eyes stroll up and down my body. “Your fantastic head, your lush mouth, your sexy-as-sin body. The whole package, kitten.”

“Why do you want to mess with me?”

“I just want to practice.” He takes my hand and places a soft, tender kiss on the top of it. That kiss has the audacity to send shivers through me.

“Hand kissing?” I tremble.

“It’s an old-fashioned art, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” I say, trying to keep a stony face. But there’s nothing old-fashioned about my response. My lady parts are dancing the hula and they want a luau with him.

“How was your day?”

I blink at his one-eighty. Are we how was your day people? “Are you really asking how my day was?”

He smiles as he reaches into the fridge, grabbing bread, fresh slices of turkey, and tomatoes.

“I’m really asking. Mine was delightful, by the way.

I spent it with the rug rats while Jodie prepped for the market tomorrow.

Took them to the Charles Schulz Museum. Molly loved it. That dude could draw.”

I love that place, and I’m tickled that Molly did too.

“Isn’t it amazing how he could bring Snoopy and Charlie Brown to life with just line drawings? That museum is cooler than you’d expect.”

He brings the sandwich stuff to the counter and finds the cutting board. “Right? I never thought about how adding Franklin would be a big deal in the sixties. A teacher suggested it in a letter.”

“I love the collection of letters from readers. There’s something about a handwritten note that feels like the writer is putting more of their heart onto the page.”

“Or on the chalkboard,” Derek says, glancing at the message board. “But I digress. How’s everything with you?”

I lean against the counter and tell him what went down at work the last few days, catching him up on the latest with the possible promotion.

“And Elias is up for the promotion too,” I finish, sharing with him what I didn’t tell Vanessa earlier.

Maybe I need a guy’s perspective. “It’s hard going up against a friend, especially since his wife is pregnant. ”

He looks up from the cutting board with a frown. “What does that have to do with it?”

“I feel guilty. Like he deserves it more since he’s going to have a family soon.”

Derek points a finger at me, his expression turning tough, no-nonsense. “Are you good at what you do?”

I square my shoulders. “Hell yeah.”

“Then don’t fall into that trap.”

“What trap?”

“The trap that single people fall into. We get asked to do more overtime, stay later, come in on holidays because we aren’t married and don’t have kids.”

“True,” I agree, thinking of times when that burden has fallen on me. “And I went in today to do traffic duty, but that was a choice. I volunteered.”

“Exactly. You made the choice. You volunteered. You weren’t roped into it.” He slaps some turkey slices onto the bread.

“And I’ve been digging into this jewelry store theft case that’s been bugging the chief. I haven’t cracked it yet, but I chose to take on the work.”

“Good. We have to remember our time is as valuable as anyone’s. There’s this weird societal notion that only parents and married people deserve a break. But every human does. And everyone deserves a chance to go after what he or she wants. You’ve earned it. So don’t feel one damn ounce of guilt.”

I hadn’t been looking for a pep talk, but I’m grateful he gave me one. “Thank you. I needed that.”

He offers a fist for knocking. “We relationship-free people need to look out for each other.”

There it is again—the reminder. Not that I need it. I’m a card-carrying member of that club. So I keep it on the same level, asking about his work. “How are things with your job? Do you like your partner?”

He tells me about Hunter and Hunter’s belly, and before I know it, he’s entertained me and also whipped me up a yummy- looking sandwich. I take a bite and declare it delicious. He grabs it from me and takes a bite too.

I wag a finger. “Hey, you’re stealing my food.”

“Damn straight I am.”

“Fine, you can share.”

“That’s what I thought.”

We trade the sandwich back and forth till it’s gone. “Want another?”

I act indignant. “Of course, since you ate half of mine.”

“Every now and then I can’t resist bread.” He makes another sandwich, and we share it again.

“You like the guys you work with? Do you consider them friends?” I ask.

He nods, but it’s the half-committed kind. “Sure.”

“You should do something with them. Go out with Shaw and Gabe. Hunter too. Get a drink.”

He taps my nose and purses his lips. “Aww, you’re trying to get me to make new friends. You’re sweet.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not sweet.”

“You’re so sweet, Perri. Admit it.”

“I’m not sweet.”

“You are. You want to play friend matchmaker.”

I huff. “And to think I was going to invite you out with the group.”

He grabs my arm. “Yes. I’ll go.”

“Invitation rescinded.”

“No, it’s not. You invited me, and you meant it.” He tugs me closer. “Didn’t you?”

I swallow as my skin heats from his nearness. “ Derek. ”

“What?”

“You’re tempting me,” I admit.

He drags me against him all the way, letting me feel the full length of him. “You tempt me.”

He’s so hard, so aroused, and I am too. Heat pools between my legs, and I ache for him. “Why are you doing this?”

His hand snakes around my waist, across my hips to my ass. He cups one cheek, and I nearly go up in flames. When he squeezes, I whimper. I want him so much. I want him to grab me, lift me up on the counter, and strip me to nothing.

To take me.

“Because . . .” he whispers, then brushes his nose against mine. “Because I want this to be so hard for you.”

“You’re evil,” I whisper.

He squeezes harder, his cock steel against me. “I’m the worst.”

“You’re killing me.”

“I’m dead too, if it’s any consolation.” Gently, he brushes a kiss to my forehead. “Forehead kiss. Want to enter in that category?”

I tremble. This man. He’s breaking down my resistance in too many ways. “I don’t want a forehead kiss.”

He lets go of my butt and tucks a strand of hair over my ear. “I don’t either.” Turning around, he puts the sandwich ingredients away and points to the stairwell.

“On that note, I’ll be upstairs with nothing on. Resist that.” He shoots me a cocky grin, his eyebrows rising.

He turns and walks away.

The fucker.

He walks away.

I want to yell.

I want to stomp my feet.

Mostly, I want to go upstairs and find him.

Naked, aroused, imagining me.

Dragging a hand through my hair, I exhale deeply and formulate a plan.

Then I smile. It might even be an evil grin. The next morning, I leave a note on the chalkboard, and head to work with an even eviler grin on my face.

It’s payback time.