Penny turned and gave her a speculative look. “Or maybe you want to keep him for yourself.”

A blush heated Claire’s face and she looked down at the papers on her desk while shaking her head, hoping her hair would hide her pink cheeks. “Don’t be stupid. He’s my best friend.”

“So?”

“He was Brendan’s best friend.”

“So?”

“So…” So what? “It would be weird.”

“What’s weird about it? You already know you’re compatible in almost every way. Why would sex be any different?”

Sex. With Justin.

Her body tingled like an extremity that had fallen asleep and was waking up in a blaze of pins and needles. And that’s all it was, she told herself. Her sex drive’s sudden fixation on Justin was just its way of letting her know it was ready for a man again, even if her heart wasn’t.

She forced herself to laugh and look straight at Penny. “For somebody who wants to be hooked up with him, you’re awfully pushy about me sleeping with him.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t necessarily want to keep him. Just play with him for a while. But I’d deprive myself of the toe-curling pleasure of multiple orgasms to see you happy, because I’m a good friend that way.”

This time Claire’s laugh was genuine. “Gee, thanks. What makes you think sex with Justin would be toe-curling and multiorgasmic?”

Not that it mattered, of course, since she wasn’t going to have sex with her best friend, toe-curling or otherwise. There was too much between them and the only thing she’d end up with when the alleged multiple orgasms were over was no best friend.

“The guys with commitment issues are usually the best in bed,” Penny said, and Claire wondered if she spoke from experience or if she’d read it in a magazine. “They have a lot of experience with a lot of different styles on a lot of different models, if you know what I mean.”

She didn’t even want to think about that. “You’ve known him longer than I have, anyway. Why do you need me to hook you up?”

“We travel in different circles. Always have.”

Penny was the reason she’d met Brendan and Justin in the first place. Claire and Penny’s senior year at UNH, they’d ended up roommates and friends. One weekend, Claire had gone home with her instead of heading to her parents’ and they’d gone to a party. A few minutes with Brendan had been all it took.

Since Penny was giving her a funny look-like maybe she thought Claire wanting Justin all to herself wasn’t just a joke-she decided to wrap it up. “The checks will be ready by the usual time Thursday.”

Once Penny was gone, Claire straightened her desk and fed Moxie. Then she did a little housekeeping and her thoughts turned to Justin.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but something was definitely wrong with him. Even though they were practically best friends, she suspected he was hiding something from her. And whatever that something was, it probably wasn’t very good.

He’d be there any second to pick her up, so she slid her driver’s license and debit card into her back pocket and clipped her cell phone to one front pocket while dropping her keys into the other. She’d wait to pull on her favorite fleece pullover until he pulled into the driveway.

On her way through the apartment, she paused as usual and looked at the row of photos sitting atop her bookshelf-the ones Penny had been looking at-her gazing coming to rest on the silver frame just to the left of her formal wedding portrait.

It was a double frame, holding two 5x7 photos side by side. On the left was a picture of Brendan and Justin standing in front of the elementary school on their first day of fourth grade. Both of them grinned at Brendan’s mom, who’d held the camera, obviously excited to be embarking on a grand new school year together.

The photo on the right, taken at her reception, was her favorite picture of the two guys together. They both looked outrageously handsome in their tuxes-both tall and athletic, but Brendan was blond and fair-skinned, while Justin had darker hair and the tanned complexion of a man who worked outdoors. She’d looked at the photo a hundred or more times since Brendan died.

This time, though, her gaze lingered on his best friend. The photographer had captured them laughing and Justin’s honey-brown eyes practically sparkled out at her from the frame.

She’d been noticing his eyes a lot lately. The warmth in them when he looked at her. The something-almost sadness-in them when she caught him watching her. And he watched her a lot.

No, she wasn’t sure what was up with him, but she had to admit-even if only to herself-that she watched him a lot, too.

It was a natural thing, she told herself. With a little over two years for her heart to come to grips with Brendan’s death, her body was awakening again. She missed sex and Justin was a very good-looking guy. It was only natural she’d sometimes wonder what it would be like if he touched her-or so she tried to convince herself.

She jumped when the chime on her cell phone alerted her to a new text, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. Grabbing her sweatshirt, she pulled up the message as she locked her door behind her.

Here.

She rolled her eyes and slid the phone back into its holster. Justin hated texting. He claimed his hands were too big and his fingertips too callused for the small buttons, but she loved his hands. They were the working hands of a capable man, strong and rough, and for a few seconds she found herself wondering what they would feel like against her soft, naked skin. Then she shove the errant, confusing image away and went down the stairs to the driveway.

He smiled at her as she climbed up into his truck and pulled the door closed. “Hey. We might need two pizzas. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon.”

While she’d been thinking about him. “If we get two, you can have mushrooms on yours and we’ll both have leftovers for supper tomorrow.”

The smile spread into a grin. “You might have leftovers. I’m starving.”

He used his mirrors to back down her driveway, but to see down the busy main road, he twisted his body to look out the back window of the truck, resting his arm across the back of the seat. He’d done it a hundred times, but this time she was aware of how close his fingertips were to brushing her shoulder. This time she had the urge to shove his pile of paperwork and business cards and supply house slips onto the floor and slide to the middle seat, into the shelter of his arm.

She didn’t, though. Instead she looked out her window and cursed Penny for putting the thought in her head.


Justin had a slice of pizza in one hand, a pool cue in the other, and was trash-talking Claire’s shot when the Rutledges walked through the front door. Brendan’s parents saw him immediately through the big window to the game room and he felt the same quick flash of shame he’d felt every time he saw them since Brendan had introduced them to Claire. Then he smiled and waved with the hand holding the pizza.

Claire turned to see who he was waving at and he didn’t miss the way her face lit up. There had been no in-law drama surrounding the Smith-Rutledge wedding since the families had hit it off almost as well as Claire and Brendan. It was storybook, really. Except the ending. The ending had sucked.

“I forgot Tuesday was pool night,” Judy Rutledge said as she and Phil turned the corner into the game room.

Claire kissed them each on the cheek, then it was Justin’s turn to get a kiss from Judy and a handshake from Phil. They’d been like second parents to him since they’d moved to town the summer before Brendan and Justin started fourth grade and struck up a friendship. The Rutledges had a family room, two televisions, a never-ending supply of freshly baked cookies and no time limit on video games, so the boys had hung out there a lot more than at the McCormick house. Justin’s mom worked a lot of hours at her hair salon and was just as happy to have her only child out of her hair as much as possible.

“All ready for Christmas?” Phil asked, because that was the usual conversation opener two and a half weeks before the big day.

“No,” Justin and Claire said together.

Claire laughed. “I’m going to get a Christmas tree on Saturday and I’ll probably get around to shopping next week. Maybe.”

Judy shook her head. “I expect to see you both Christmas Eve.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Justin said. That was the plan. An appearance at the Rutledge family Christmas Eve party, then he and Claire at her place, watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. It was a tradition.

The Rutledges went to order their take-out and since Chris Jones was just walking in, Claire handed her pool cue to him and went to sit with Judy and Phil while they waited.

Chris had youth and a pretty face on his side, but not much in the way of book smarts. And his work ethic was a little iffy at best, too, which Justin knew since he employed the kid off and on during the summer. When Chris’s beer and video-game money ran low, he’d help out on a roof or two, then take off again.

“Must be about time for you to head north,” Justin said. In the winter Chris worked and lived at one of the fancy resorts because an almost freakish natural ability to teach rich people to ski was another thing he had on his side.

“Monday. But for the fifteenth, I managed to score a few hours off in the middle of the day. You in?”

“Hell, yeah.” That was the day the gates were officially opened on the snowmobile trails. “A few hours is better than nothing. I’ll text you when I get there and we can head out.”

“So you get with that yet?” Chris asked, and Justin realized he’d been watching Claire through the window as she laughed at something Judy said.