Month of Sundays Read Free

Ralph Lauren button-down shirt, then licked the back of her left hand and sprinkled salt on the wet spot. “She said your last girlfriend broke your heart and if I did the same, she’d rip mine out and feed it to me.”
    Rachel couldn’t help but laugh. Good old Jane. Always looking out for her—even when she might not want her to.
    “Go ahead,” Griffin said, trying to keep a straight face. “Yuk it up, but I think she meant it.”
    “She did.”
    “Then I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Griffin raised her glass of oro and winked through the gold-colored liquid. “To second chances?”
    “I’ll drink to that.”
    They tapped their glasses, downed the tequila, and followed it with a bite of lime. Rachel slowly exhaled to try to ease the burn. It didn’t help.
    “If you don’t mind me asking,” Griffin said with apparent hesitation, “what did your ex do that was so heinous your friends are willing to threaten your dates with grievous bodily injury in order to avoid having history repeat itself?”
    Unlike Griffin, Rachel didn’t hesitate. “We were together for eight years, then she cheated on me and left me for another woman.”
    Griffin’s tanned face grew pale. Mortification or a warning sign of similar behavior?
    “Eight years is a long time. I don’t think all of my relationships combined add up to half that time.”
    If Griffin’s comment was meant to be facetious, it certainly wasn’t delivered that way.
    A player. I should have known.
    “You don’t believe in long-term relationships?”
    “I believe in them, but I don’t think I inherited the gene to be good at them. So I stick to what I do best.”
    “Which is?”
    “Let’s just say women who spend time with me leave knowing Disney World isn’t the only Magic Kingdom.” Griffin touched Rachel’s forearm and laughed infectiously. “Did that make me sound like I was trying too hard or not hard enough?”
    “The word ‘coasting’ definitely came to mind.”
    Griffin leaned toward her. Her scent—crisp and clean like a warm ocean breeze—filled Rachel’s senses. Rachel knew she should back away, but she didn’t. Instead, she moved closer. “I’d love it if you stayed,” Griffin said, “but I’ll understand if you don’t.”
    When she pulled away, Rachel had to make a concerted effort not to follow her. Player or not, the woman had skills.
    Griffin reached for the reposado . “What are you doing for New Year’s Eve?”
    “I don’t know. I haven’t planned that far ahead yet.”
    Griffin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t point out that New Year’s Eve was a little more than two weeks away. “I’m having a pizza party at my apartment that night.”
    It was Rachel’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I would have expected black tie and cocktails, not deep-dish pepperoni and Miller Lite.”
    “When I’m not at work, I like to keep things low-key.” Griffin downed her third shot. Rachel followed suit. “If you’re not doing anything, feel free to stop by.” She reached for a cocktail napkin, borrowed a pen from the bartender, and scribbled something on the paper. She slid the napkin toward Rachel. “My address. In case you change your mind.”
    Rachel folded the napkin in half and slipped it into her pocket. She appreciated the invitation but was reluctant to accept it. Griffin struck her as someone who was easy on the eyes but hard on the heart. Their brief time together had done little to change that impression. Did she want to become the latest notch on Griffin’s bedpost, or should she get out while the getting was good?
    “I’ll think about it.”
    Griffin looked at her, obviously sizing her up. Rachel wondered if she passed inspection.
    “You’re going to make me chase you, aren’t you?” Griffin asked matter-of-factly.
    Rachel twirled one of the empty shot glasses so she could focus on something other than Griffin’s arresting eyes. “I doubt I’d prove much of a challenge for you. I’m not very