Careful What You Kiss For by Jane Lynne Daniels Read Free Book Online

memory to invent fantasy after fantasy of seeing him again. “Max!”
    He hesitated.
    “I — ” What could she say? “I — ”
    Something she couldn’t read crossed his face. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”
    The hell he did. How could he know what she was going to say when she didn’t know herself? “For the record, you’re the one who screwed up, and screwed up bad, by cheating on me. Hope it was worth it.”
    Here’s where he was supposed to beg for understanding, tell her what a huge mistake he’d made. She’d see the pain in his eyes, know that he’d spent years beating himself up for what he’d done and how he’d sullied something truly beautiful, something neither one of them would see again. She’d forgive him. Maybe. Then allow that maybe she shouldn’t have punched the Skank.
    Instead Max simply said, “It was.” Then he left.
    And Tensley, once the words hit her with full force, retreated inside the door to the apartment building so that Max wouldn’t see her crumble to the floor, the Tupperware container melting into a virtual pool of burning, melting plastic.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Tensley had a cat.
    She knew she had a cat because the minute she turned the key in the lock of the apartment door, she heard an annoyed meow. After a small hesitation, because it felt so weird to be letting herself into a place she thought she might live in only because of what her driver’s license said, she’d ducked inside and closed the door behind her, flattening herself against it.
    Then she’d felt brave enough to flick on the light switch. She didn’t want to think about how she knew exactly where it would be in the darkness.
    The cat sat directly in front of her, a few feet away, swishing its tail in a wide swath across the wooden floor. Its face was half gray, half white, right down the middle.
    Tensley felt like a teenager caught sneaking in after curfew.
    “Hello?” she ventured.
    She’d never had a cat because 1) A cat required attention. Regular feedings. Litter box cleanup. Her schedule had always been too crazy for that kind of commitment. And, 2) She was allergic to cats. Not in the “I-can’t-breathe” kind of way, but in the sneezing, watery eyes kind of way.
    A long, slow blink of gray eyes. Swish went the tail.
    “If you could just — let me through.”
    No response.
    Tensley scooted around the animal with a small get-away flick of her fingers. Big mistake. The cat stomped away, shaking each paw with disdain one by one, as if it had stepped in something disgusting.
    Judgment. From a cat. “The attitude,” she called after the animal. “It’s not working for you.”
    Except that it was.
    Tensley cautiously stepped ahead. Any minute now, there would be lights and sirens, handcuffs. Someone shouting that she was a burglar, with a key. The cat pointing a paw straight at her, identifying her to the police.
    But she heard nothing.
    She turned on a lamp and when soft light flooded the room, saw that she was in a cozy, small living room. The walls were painted a sunny yellow, accentuated by a sofa in a bright floral print. A large, plump chair sat across from the sofa, a pile of books on its seat cushion. A cheerful rug held an intricately carved chest that apparently served as a coffee table, with magazines scattered across its top, as well as candles in different colors and sizes.
    The overall effect was comfortable, rumpled and inviting. Before she even thought about it, Tensley crossed the room to scoop up the pile of books from the chair and drop onto its seat cushion. She moved the books to the chest and leaned back against the chair with a sigh, closing her eyes.
    Interesting. The seat cushion fit her exactly, the stuffing settling in against her thighs as though it had been expecting her. Must be her chair of choice. Was it possible to have two completely different lives?
    Tensley opened her eyes and reached over to pick up the top book in the pile. Its title surprised her. The