Heat of the Night Page 3

“Hello,” she said as she put her cell to her ear.

“When are you coming home?” came her mother’s shrill voice.

“I already told you, Mom. I’ll be here for a few weeks.”

Sandra Holmes sounded crushed. “But what about the anniversary dinner?”

“I said I’d be home for that,” she reminded her mother. “I’ll be back for the weekend, and then fly back to San Diego, okay?”

Her mom let out a loud, over-exaggerated sigh. “I don’t like knowing you’re all alone out there, living in a hippie’s apartment, carousing around in an uncivilized city.”

Annabelle snorted. “First of all, Christina is not a hippie. She’s studying to be a doctor. Secondly, San Diego is a perfectly civilized place. Chill out, Mom. I won’t be here forever. Christina comes back in a month, so I’ll have to leave then anyway.”

Never satisfied, her mother went on for a few more minutes about all the hazards Annabelle would face in such a dangerous city, but Annabelle tuned it all out. Thank God for Christina. If she hadn’t run into Christina’s parents at the market two days ago, she wouldn’t have known their daughter would be out of town for the month, and then she would’ve had to move in with her parents. Eek.

“And why would she just leave you there in that apartment alone?” her mother was reprimanding.

She suppressed a sigh. “I told you, Christina eloped with her boyfriend. When I spoke to her on the phone, she said I could have the place until she gets back.”

“I never liked that girl,” Sandra said in a frosty tone.

No kidding. Sandra disliked all of Annabelle’s college friends, including Christina. She also disliked Annabelle’s co-workers, her boss, and pretty much anyone her daughter got close to. Except for Bryce, of course. Sandra loved Bryce. The Holmes and Worthington families had been close for years, and throughout Annabelle’s entire childhood and adolescence, all she’d heard from her mom was what a wonderful husband Bryce would make.

“Christina is a great girl,” Annabelle said in her friend’s defense.

Her mom ignored the remark. “Your father and I want you to come home. Oh, and Paulette Worthington and I wanted to sit down with you to talk about the details for the wedding.”

Annabelle held her tongue. She hadn’t told her mother about her and Bryce, so Sandra was still under the impression a wedding was in the foreseeable future. No point bursting that dream yet, not until she figured out for sure what she wanted to do about Bryce.

“I’ll call you when I know when I’ll be home,” she said instead. “Talk to you later, Mom.”

“Annab—”

She hung up, then quickly powered off the cell phone so her mother wouldn’t be able to call back. Jeez. Talk about overbearing. Although she knew her parents loved her, sometimes she wanted to strangle them. They were snobby, overprotective, presumptuous, and had total tunnel vision when it came to Annabelle’s future. Marry Bryce, move into a mansion on Nob Hill, spend the afternoons at the country club, the evenings entertaining San Francisco’s elite. If it weren’t for her job, Annabelle might have left San Francisco years ago, but she’d been lucky to land a position at one of the top event planning firms in the Bay Area, and as much as she hated her parents’ interference in her life, she loved her work.

Fortunately, her boss had given her the month off, which meant she could take a breather and really think about what she wanted out of a relationship. Yeah, Bryce had dumped her, but their lives had been intertwined since they were children, and she knew eventually he’d try to win his way back into her life.

Question was—did she want to let him back in?

Sighing, Annabelle folded up the silly list she’d been constructing and tossed it on the hardwood floor beside the bed. This was stupid. She wasn’t going to give the list to Bryce. A list of fantasies wouldn’t erase the hurtful words he’d spoken two days ago, and it sure as heck wouldn’t help her figure out what she truly wanted from a relationship.

Rising from the bed, she headed into Christina’s small bathroom and got ready for bed. Brushed her teeth, exfoliated, combed her unruly brown waves, and then she slid into bed and settled beneath the covers.

She planned on using this time off to really think about her life and the choices she’d made. Particularly her choice in men.

Did she really love Bryce? His break-up words had upset her, but was that because she was genuinely in love with him, or because the fairytale life her parents had outlined for her since she was a kid had now gone up in flames?

She rolled over, gritting her teeth. Don’t think about it now. Figure it out in the morning.

Her muscles instantly relaxed as she willed her mind to go blank. Ten minutes later, she drifted into a deep, relaxed sleep.

Christina’s apartment was dark when Ryan let himself in with the key tucked on top of the doorframe. Christina might very well be the coolest chick he’d ever hooked up with. She had just broken up with her boyfriend when Ryan and Matt met her, and she was so completely comfortable with her sexuality it almost scared him. She hadn’t had any qualms about engaging in a hot threesome with him and Matt the night after they’d met, and she never seemed to mind if one or both of them dropped by when she got home from work, no matter how early she had to get up in the morning.

He crept down the narrow hallway toward her bedroom, his groin hardening the closer he came to the door. Fuck, this was exactly what he needed. A night of hot, no-strings sex was guaranteed to make him forget all about Jane’s startling announcement. A baby. God. Not that he’d ever really thought there would be a chance for him and Jane—she was madly in love with Becker—but this pregnancy pretty much snuffed out even the faintest spark of hope.

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