Carolina Moon

ever let herself get to this stage with a man who thought more of a stray dog than he did of a woman willing to jump his bones?
    Thank God she’d come to her senses.
    Then he opened the door, rumpled, sleepy-eyed, wearing only jeans he hadn’t bothered to button. And she remembered how she’d gotten to this stage with this particular man.
    Her juices wanted to rise and churn, but she ignored them and, grabbing his hand, slapped the key into it.
    “What?”
    “That’s for starters. I have a few things to say to you, then I’ll take my leave.” She shoved him aside and strode in. She’d worn heels that showed off her legs in the short dress. Just to torment him.
    “What time is it?”
    She gritted her teeth. He was simply destroying her timing. “It’s nearly noon.”
    “Oh Christ, it can’t be. I have to be at my mother’s in an hour.” He sank into a chair, buried his head in his hands. “I’ll probably be dead in an hour.”
    “You will if I have anything to do with it.” She leaned down, sniffed, reared back. “You smell like the inside of a cheap bottle of bourbon.”
    “It was an expensive bottle of bourbon, and I’m not inside it. It’s inside me.” His stomach rolled uneasily. “For the moment.”
    “So.” She slapped her hands on her hips. “You were out getting drunk and tomcatting around half the night. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
    “I’m not entirely sure. I think I started out that way.”
    “Because,” she continued, furious at the interruption, “that’s how you can spend every Saturday night from now on as far as I’m concerned.” Jealousy veered in and cut pride off at the pass. “Who the hell was she?”
    “Who?” He took a chance and let go of his head. He was vaguely disappointed when it didn’t roll off his shoulders. “Who was who?”
    “The little slut you think you can two-time me with and live.” She picked up the closest thing at hand—a small lamp—yanked the cord free, and heaved it. The resulting crash had howls coming from the bedroom and brought Wade unsteadily to his feet. “You son of a bitch. Is she still here?”
    “Who? What the hell’s wrong with you? You broke my lamp.”
    “I’ll break your neck before I’m done.” She whirled, raced into the bedroom intending to rake the eyes out of the woman who’d usurped her place.
    On the bed stood a small black puppy, barking wildly and cowering against the pillows.
    “Where is she?”
    “Who?” Wade threw up his hands. His hair was standing on end and there was a kickboxer working out behind each of his eyes. “Where is who? What the hell are you talking about, Faith?”
    “The bitch you’re sleeping with.”
    “The only bitch I’ve slept with recently, besides you, is that one.” He gestured toward the bed. “And she’s only been here a couple of hours. Really, she means nothing to me.”
    “You think you can joke about this? Just where were you last night?”
    “I was out. Goddamn it.” He stalked to the bathroom, shoving bottles and tubes aside as he searched for aspirin in the medicine chest.
    “You were out, all right. I came by at nine, and stayed till nearly one—” Damn it, she hadn’t meant to tell him she’d waited so long. “You never showed up.”
    Ready to whimper, he shook out four pills, swallowed them with tepid tap water. “I don’t recall us having plans for last night. You don’t like to make plans. Ties you down, takes the excitement out of things.” He leaned back on the sink, stared at her balefully. “Well, this is exciting.”
    “It was Saturday night. You had to know I’d come by.”
    “No, Faith, I don’t have to know anything. You don’t want me to know anything.”
    She tossed her head. They were getting off the subject. “I want to know where you were and who you were with.”
    “That’s a lot of demands from someone who doesn’t want any strings.” His eyes might have throbbed like drums, but they could still go hard. “Straight sex, fun and games. Aren’t those the ground rules?”
    “I don’t cheat,” she said with some dignity. “When I’m with a man, I don’t go off with another. I expect the same consideration.”
    “I wasn’t with another woman. I was with Dwight.”
    “Oh, that’s just a bullshit lie. Dwight Frazier’s a married man and he wasn’t out half the night drinking and carousing with you.”
    “I don’t know where he was after about ten. Home tucked in with Lissy, I expect. They went to