Undenied (Unspoken #3)(29)

“You haven’t been yourself lately,” Jake observed. “Something bothering you?”

“Definitely not like you to act like a dick to Gracie,” Luke added.

Wes rubbed the back of his neck. He hated these conversations, probably because they never had them. Any deep, personal shit usually seemed to revolve around the women, such as when Ellie or Gracie had problems. They never stood around and got all mushy over male shit.

“Things are fine,” he muttered. “I just had a bad day and took it out on Gracie. She knows I love her to death.”

Jake and Luke didn’t press, something Wes was supremely grateful for. He already dreaded the confrontation with Gracie enough, because he knew it was coming. No way she was going to let him get away with blowing her off about how the weekend had gone with Payton. And then he’d have to tell her how fantastic it was, at which point she’d want to know what the f**k his problem was if it was so freaking terrific. Then

he’d have to explain his real problem. Gracie wouldn’t just laugh. She’d get all smug and say I told you so. No thanks.

The women walked back outside, and Wes watched Jake get all gooey over Ellie. The only difference was this time he could understand that gooey feeling. He rather thought he might be getting the same doe-eyed expression if Payton walked out that same door.

He concentrated on his beer, squeezing the can with his hand. Realistically his relationship, if you could call it that, was already causing problems within his circle of friends. Most were at his instigation, but they were there all the same.

He didn’t want this awkward alienation. He wanted the same easygoing camaraderie they’d always shared. Pissing on Gracie was inexcusable, and it sure as hell wouldn’t have happened if he had his head on straight where Payton was concerned.

It’s just sex. Treat it for what it is.

But that thought was as distasteful as shitting on Gracie.

He took a long chug of the beer and admitted to himself that no amount of salvaging could keep the evening from the toilet. He’d ruined it before it ever began. The sooner he carried his sorry carcass home the better because he clearly wasn’t fit for public consumption.

Chapter Twelve

By the end of the week, Wes was glad he hadn’t given in to the urge to call Payton. He was annoyed, peeved and a whole host of other synonyms for pissed. He didn’t know if she really wasn’t interested in seeing him for anything besides sex, or if she was just enjoying yanking him around by the balls on a very short leash.

Neither option was particularly appealing.

Hell, if he hadn’t called her the last week they wouldn’t have gotten together the previous weekend, and now, again, she hadn’t gotten in touch.

While he could understand her preliminary reluctance to make all the moves, after what he’d pulled out of the bag last weekend, it was definitely her move. He wasn’t about to act like a desperate lapdog, panting after her every move.

Friday nights were always a get-together night, usually at Jeremy’s, but tonight everyone was going to congregate at Luke and Gracie’s because Thad was sick and both Jeremy and Michelle were wiped out.

Wes was determined to have fun and not let thoughts of Payton interfere in his time with his friends. Beer, good food, a UFC fight and the company of the greatest people on earth should set his spirits to rights.

By the time he got to Luke’s house, he already felt a great deal better. Jake and Ellie were already there, and Luke was manning the grill. Gracie greeted him with a big hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and he tousled her hair, glad that things were back to normal between them.

She looked as though she wanted to ask him a hundred questions, but she refrained, for which he was grateful. She could be pushy and bossy, two things he loved about her, but she always seemed to know when not to push.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She drew away and cocked an eyebrow. “What for?”

He smiled. “Just thank you.”

She shook her head and smiled back. “Want a beer?”

“Am I breathing?”

Her soft melodic laughter rang out. “I’ll take that as a yes since I haven’t killed you yet.”

She tossed him a can and jerked her head in the direction of the back patio. “Go on out. Guys are back there. So is Ellie. Poor girl was as green as the shit growing in my fridge. I sent her out for some fresh air.”

Wes chuckled. “Sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nah, I’m coming out just as soon as I call the cable company and figure out why the f**k I can’t order the pay-per-view fight.”

“Ah shit, no fight?”

“Not if I can help it,” she muttered.

He smacked her playfully on the ass then headed out to join the others. As he stepped onto the cobblestone patio, he felt lighter. A warm breeze rippled his T-shirt, and across the back lawn, lightning bugs were starting to appear in the dusky twilight.

He inhaled deeply, letting the scent of honeysuckle drift across his nostrils. Man, did he love it here in his small town with his friends, his life and his job. Living in a place like Houston? Definitely not for him.

“Hey, Wes,” Ellie said as she walked over.

To his surprise she hugged him, tucking her head underneath his chin and squeezing tight. Any hugging that went on between them was always at his instigation and not without a lot of blushing on her part.