“Explain the difference in that to me.” Kendall grinned. “Especially given how you just leaped to his defense.”
“I did not.” Maybe she had. “But seriously, a racing nickname is not the same as a given name.”
“How did he get that nickname anyway?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t told me.” Truthfully, Diesel didn’t share a whole lot of his thoughts with her. She didn’t know anything about the accident from him directly and he had only told her about his mother and brother when she had asked him straight out. That was typical for most men she could stand being around—they were closed off. The ones who verbally vomited all their feelings usually turned out to be whiners. Or they gave her information braggart style so that it came off as a lecture. Neither really did it for her. But she had to admit, she did want to know Diesel better. She had a feeling there were some interesting thoughts rolling around in that head of his.
“You like him, don’t you?”
“Well, duh. I guess I wouldn’t be sleeping with him if I didn’t like him.”
“Yeah, but there’s a difference between liking him well enough and liking him.” Kendall was studying her so intently it was unnerving. “I think you like him more than any other guy I’ve ever seen you with.”
It felt like Kendall was accusing her of a crush. Having deeper feelings than she did. Yeah, she enjoyed him, but it wasn’t like she was picking out china or naming their children. “Then clearly I haven’t liked enough men in my life. Which only goes to show that the pool of interesting men is in reality the size of a partially evaporated puddle.”
“So you admit you like him?”
Her friend was starting to annoy her. “I’m not admitting anything.” Her cell phone rang on the coffee table and she ignored it, recognizing her mom’s ringtone.
“You can answer that.”
“It’s my mom. I’ll call her back later.”
“Why can’t you just admit that maybe, even though you just met Diesel, this could be different?”
“Because it’s not. You know me. I’m very good at dating with a cool head. I can separate my emotions. I can have casual sex. I can walk away from a guy who’s not good for me and not regret it. Falling for someone after three days together is flaky. I’m not flaky.”
“Maybe for once you should let yourself be flaky. There is something legitimate about instant attractions . . . I’m not talking love at first sight. Nor am I talking about pure lust. I mean when you meet someone and that spark is there. It’s both physical and intellectual. It’s like every time they smile you feel it in your hoohah, and every time they say something you smile because it’s funny or insightful or exactly how you feel about it.”
Tuesday undid her legs and drew her knees up to her chest so she could hug them. She didn’t want to have this conversation at all. Maybe because if she stopped and thought about it, she would have to admit that she might be feeling exactly what Kendall was describing. When Diesel smiled, her inner thighs burned. When he spoke, she smiled. Or maybe more in her case, she rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh, which was the same implicit approval.
Shit. Damn. Hell.
She liked him.
“You suck,” she told Kendall.
Her best friend laughed. “What? I just speak the truth and you might as well enjoy it instead of fighting it.”
“How am I supposed to enjoy it now that I have to worry that I might fall for him?” Tuesday rubbed her palms on her legs vigorously, frustrated. “Ugh. I don’t need this.”
“Will you relax?” Kendall stood up. “Go take your shower and get all sexified for Diesel. I’m going to pick up my husband then catch our plane to Atlanta.”
“Good luck in the race.” Tuesday forced herself to stand up.
“Thanks. And thanks for letting me talk about the baby.”
“No problem.” For some reason, a lump rose in Tuesday’s throat. She was so glad she was friends with Kendall. They had been there for each other through the good and the bad. “I’m always here, you know that.”
“I know. Likewise.” Kendall gave her a hug then she headed out.
Tuesday sighed, torn between excitement over seeing Diesel and dread. She did not need to fall head over ass for him and then have him turn out to be a douche bag, or worse, be awesome but dump her anyway. That would really screw with her right now, and she couldn’t deal with it. But if she kept a little distance, she could enjoy the fabulous sex and his company and not get hurt.
She hoped.
Picking up her phone, she played her mom’s voice mail.
“Hi, hon, it’s Mom. I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to see you tomorrow after all. Tom Reynolds and I are seeing each other.”
Tuesday made a face, her gut clenching. Tom Reynolds was her mother’s high school sweetheart, the one she used to joke around about and say was the one who had gotten away. Of course, she’d been kidding, but it had always bugged Tuesday, even if it hadn’t seemed to irritate her father. And what was this “seeing each other” crap? Did her mother mean that they were just physically seeing each other for lunch or something, or did she mean they were dating?
What the f**kity f**k.
Suddenly feeling like she couldn’t breathe, Tuesday played the message again. She wasn’t sure what to think. Her mother sounded happy, maybe even a little giddy. Definitely not like a grieving widow. Was her mother seriously dating again just four freaking weeks after her husband had died?
She did need to get in the shower before her date with Diesel, but all she could do for a solid minute was stand there with her phone in her shaking hand. Should she listen to the message again? Call her mom and clarify?
No, she couldn’t do that. If her mother said no, she would feel like shit for suspecting that and for insulting her mother’s feelings for her father. If she said yes, well, Tuesday knew she couldn’t handle that at all.
So she couldn’t call her mom.
What she could do was have a drink before the shower.
Tuesday headed to the kitchen and her liquor cabinet.
CHAPTER NINE
RYDER debated whether or not to show his wife what Tuesday had written about their choice in baby names, but he figured Suzanne was going to find out sooner or later and it might as well not be in public.
At the moment, she was nursing their son on the couch in their new house, her hair tousled, but looking amazing. Beautiful. Content. Ryder got an inflated feeling in his chest every time he looked at the two of them together. Track was a tiny little picture perfect blend of the two of them, and yet he had almost never happened. Ryder and Suzanne had been divorced, for all practical if not legal purposes. Now here they were, less than a year later, married all over again, with a new house and a baby boy. There wasn’t a goddamn thing left in the world he could ask for.