Was it his marriage? She nibbled her bottom lip. She shouldn’t feel sorry for him, shouldn’t feel like she should go for a drink with him, because that was what she was trying to avoid. “I’m sorry. I do need to finish up a few things and then I’m…um…going out for dinner.”

“With Jake.”

She nodded brightly and indicated the phone in her hand.

Andrew just stood there, looking at her. What? What did he want? Confusion mounted in her. Then he shook his head. “Have a good weekend, Shelby.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Pushing her hair off her face, she lifted the phone back to her ear. “Sorry about that. Andrew was just leaving.”

“He asked you to go out.”

“Just for a drink. We often do that on Fridays.”

“Just you and him?”

Shelby frowned. “Sometimes. Sometimes others come too. You know, happy hour, Friday-evening stuff.”

“He asked you even though he knows you’re seeing me.”

Shelby waited a beat of silence. “First of all, it’s not like he was asking me on a date. He wanted to talk business. And second—I’m not really seeing you.” She kept her voice low. The office had emptied and was quiet but she didn’t know who was still around to possibly overhear. “I’m not really sure what we’re doing or why you’re asking me out for dinner. This started out as a favor but…”

Silence prickled between them over the phone.

“Yeah, I did you a favor,” he said finally, his voice rough. “But, hell, Shelby, I…look, let’s talk about it over dinner.”

She sighed. “I don’t think it’s really a good idea for us to actually get involved.”

“Why not?” Stubbornness edged his voice.

“Because…” She hesitated. “I’m not really looking for a relationship. I just needed someone to…” She glanced around again and lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Help me. You know.”

More silence.

“So I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea,” she said, even though she kind of felt like her insides were being shredded, forcing the words out because dammit, she really did want to see him again. But this was for the best.

“You just told Andrew you were having dinner with me.”

She frowned. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean we have to really do it.” She sighed. “I’m really tired, Jake. It’s been a long week, with Adam being in the hospital, and stuff at work.”

“You have had a rough week,” he admitted. “We don’t have to go out.”

Disappointment flooded her that he wasn’t going to push a little more to convince her. Man, she needed to screw her head on straight.

“Okay then,” she said. “Bye, Jake.”

And she snapped her phone shut.

Tears prickled Shelby’s eyes and she closed them for a moment. Dammit! She should not be so upset over a guy she barely knew. If this was just a ruse to make Andrew think she had a boyfriend, she had no business caring that much whether she saw him or not. All the more reason to end this right then and there.

She was just stressed. She needed the weekend to relax and decompress.

Feeling heavy and lethargic, she finished up her work, shut down her computer and gathered up her purse and suit jacket.

A short time later she walked into her apartment, dropped her keys on her new table inside the door, kicked off high-heeled pumps with a satisfying lob across the living room, and winced when one crashed onto her glass-topped coffee table. She threw down her purse and shoved both hands into her hair.

Dammit. She could’ve been getting ready for a date. With Jake. Which could have turned into another night of hot sex.

She allowed her bottom lip to pout as she padded barefoot down the hall to her bedroom and changed into the black yoga pants she’d thought of earlier and a soft, gray T-shirt. In her bathroom, she popped out her contact lenses and slipped her glasses on.

Moments later, a glass of wine in one hand and the remote control for the television in the other, she reclined on her couch and leaned her head back.

Andrew had been cool and distant all week. Especially every time he’d suggested they have lunch or a drink or dinner and she’d turned him down. For Jake. That was what she’d wanted. So why did she feel so depressed?

The knock at her apartment door had wine sloshing over the edge of her very full glass, darkening the gray T-shirt with a small wet spot. Damn. Who the hell was that? She set the glass down and climbed to her feet, still tired.

Jake.

He stood outside the door, visible in her peephole. She leaned her forehead to the carved wooden door for a brief moment, her body going all quivery, her heart lurching into a thuddy rhythm.

Then she opened the door. He stood there, holding a large flat box—pizza?—with a paper bag on top and a six pack of beer.

“Hi.” He gave her a small sexy smile, eyes steady on hers.

“Hi.” Her breath slid out of her. “What are you doing here?”

He lifted his packages. “I brought dinner. Since you were too tired to go out.”

Her heart swelled up so big she thought it might burst. “Oh.”

“And beer.” He held up the other hand. “And…” He lowered his chin toward the paper bag. “Ice cream. Butter pecan.”

She just stood there, blinking at him, her throat tightening, her mouth trembling. She couldn’t believe he was there and he’d brought food and beer and her favorite ice cream. He’d actually been listening when they’d talked that night before the company picnic. Her throat ached and she squeezed her eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” He peered at her closer. “Hey, Shelby Rose, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just…just…stressed.” She stepped back. “Come in.”

He walked past her and went straight to the counter separating her small kitchen from dining room, and set the packages down. He turned to her. “C’mere. You look like you need a hug.”

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

He was a pig for noticing that when she was so visibly upset, but he couldn’t help but observe the enticing jiggle of her breasts beneath the thin T-shirt as she moved across the room toward him. Heat rushed to his groin and he went hard as a post.

Then she was in his arms, her cheek pressed to his chest, those soft breasts pillowed between them, and his arms went around her small body and tightened. Damn, she felt good there.

“Hey little girl,” he murmured, his face pressed against her silky hair. “It’s okay.”

He had no idea what he was talking about, but comforting her seemed the thing to do. “Are you hungry?” He was starved and the smell of the pizza, all spicy tomatoes and pepperoni, had driven him crazy all the way over there.

“Mmm. Yeah.” She lifted her head and gave him a shaky smile.

“I didn’t know you wear glasses.” He smiled down at her, studying the rectangular frames, stylish and a bit funky.

“Oh. Yeah. I don’t wear them often.”

“I like them.” He tipped his head. “They make you look very intelligent.”

“I am very intelligent.”

He laughed and gave her butt a little pat. “Yes, you are.” He moved into her kitchen. “I better put the ice cream in the freezer,” he said, making himself at home in her kitchen. She pulled plates out of a cupboard and they piled slices of cheesy pizza on them then sat on her couch. Jake popped the top off a beer while Shelby wiped up a small puddle under her wine glass.

“So what are you so stressed about?” he asked.

Duh. Stupid question. One of her best friends’ husband was dying.

But she gave him a wary, indecisive look and said nothing.

“What?” He took another bite of pizza.

“I’m stressed about a lot of things,” she admitted. “One of them being you.”

“Me?” He gazed at her.

“Yeah.” She took a breath. “I didn’t mean to act like a bitch on the phone.”

He gave a crooked smile. “When you hung up like that, I was just going to suggest doing this.” He gestured with the piece of pizza in his hand. “If you were too tired to go out. And then you hung up on me.”