And all that did was make Britt even angrier.
His ex-girlfriend was standing behind him in herpanties, for God’s sake.
“Could you give us a minute, Rebecca?” J. T. didn’t look at Rebecca at all when he said it.
He addressed this to Britt as if he was afraid she’d dart away if he took his eyes off her.
They stared each other down.
For a moment it looked as though Rebecca intended to stay exactly where she was.
And then she smiled beneficently, pivoted like a model reaching the end of a runway and glided back into the house, the tail of the shirt fluttering just above her microscopic buttocks.
“And put something on your damn bottom half,” he called after her.
If Britt knew Rebecca, and she thought she did, she expected that particular command would be ignored.
Britt handed the white paper bag up to him.
He barely looked at it. He set it aside on the little table.
“Rebecca collects men’s dress shirts like pelts. The one she’s wearing was never mine,” he said shortly.
“Yeah, I knew that. I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as a dressT-shirt, anyway.”
It was a mild opening shot.
“Why didn’t you call me back, Britt?” He lowered his voice.
“Well, because I didn’t want to, J. T.,” she said tautly.
His stomach tied itself into a trucker’s hitch.
They stared each other down for a moment.
“Let’s go for a walk. Down by the creek,” he said abruptly.
She pivoted and stalked in that direction. He followed her swiftly down the steps and flanked her in a few strides.
He went to reach for her hand, a reflex now. But she kept hers so adamantly close to her sides they might as well have been strapped there with bailing wire, and he felt like an ass.
He holstered his hands in his pockets.
They walked wordlessly a moment, tracing that path to the swimming hole, the last place he could remember being perfectly happy. Back in that brief interlude when he was delusional enough to think his life could be simple.Nothingwas ever simple when it came to women.
Their feet crunched pebbles and old fallen leaves and pine needles. And he reached up and dragged his finger idly through the leaves of a low-hanging oak, as if it were a pet. Seeking comfort from anywhere.
She skidded a little down the dirt bank toward the river. He didn’t offer her his hand again.
And then he stopped.
“Okay, Britt. I tried to tell you about a dozen times that I wasn’t expecting her to just show up like that.”
“That was pretty clear from that very complicated expression on your face when you saw her.”
“Yeah. I just bet it was complicated. Let me ask you something. How complicated is my expression right now?”
They locked glares.