So I'm giving up." He was still smiling, but his ocher eyes were serious. "Giving up?" I repeated in confusion. "Yes -- giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." His smile faded as he explained, and a hard edge crept into his voice. "You lost me again." The breathtaking crooked smile reappeared. "I always say too much when I'm talking to you -- that's one of the problems." "Don't worry -- I don't understand any of it," I said wryly. "I'm counting on that." "So, in plain English, are we friends now?" "Friends..." he mused, dubious. "Or not," I muttered. He grinned. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Behind his smile, the warning was real. "You say that a lot," I noted, trying to ignore the sudden trembling in my stomach and keep my voice even. "Yes, because you're not listening to me. I'm still waiting for you to believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me."
entrance. They made such a pair with Mark in his suit and tie, and Steven in his worn jeans and boots. Steven stood with his hands in his pockets and big grin on his attractive face. "I feel like I should applaud. That was better than watching a chick flick." My face heated and I shifted on my feet. Mark opened the door and waved me inside. "I think you can ignore my previous words of wisdom about Cross's womanizing." "Thanks for not firing me," I replied wryly as we waited for the hostess to check our reservation and table. "Or at least feeding me first." Steven patted my shoulder. "Mark can't afford to lose you." Pulling out a chair for me, Mark smiled. "How else will I give Steven regular updates on your love life? He's a soap opera addict, you know. He loves romantic dramas." I snorted. "You're kidding." Steven ran a hand over his chin and smiled. "I'll never admit it one way or the other. A man's
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