Meant To Be Yours. Susan Mallery

you have a manager and several people helping out in the stables?” Renee asked.

      “We do, but it’s still complicated.”

      Not exactly an answer that made sense, Renee thought. She looked at her friend and wondered if something was going on. Bethany didn’t seem like herself.

      “I can’t find anything better than an appletini for the apple wedding,” Silver said. “I’ve tried a bunch of different cocktails and I’m not sure our bride is going to love any of them.”

      Pallas looked around the table. “We have an upcoming apple wedding. The bride wants appletinis but the groom’s mother wants a different apple-based drink. So far they’ve been unable to agree on anything. We have one final tasting this week.”

      “This whole thing is putting me off apples,” Silver grumbled. “And I like apples.”

      “Give yourself an apple-free month and your love will be restored,” Carol told her.

      Everyone laughed.

      Conversation flowed easily. Renee remembered the first time Pallas had invited her to the girlfriends’ lunch. She’d been nervous and not sure she would get along with the women, but they’d welcomed her and now were an important part of her life. She knew that her friends would be there for her. She liked being a part of something—belonging. She hadn’t had that in a while. Certainly not in high school where the other girls had mostly avoided her. College had been a little better, until someone had figured out the truth about her mother.

      Nothing she had to worry about now, she reminded herself. She was keeping Verity far, far away from Happily Inc.

      “Great salad,” Wynn said, waving her fork at Renee. “There are just enough vegetables to make me feel righteous.”

      Renee smiled and ignored the guilt. She would talk to Wynn later and get any issues resolved. It was the right thing to do.

      But ninety minutes later, all Renee wanted to do was bolt. Instead, she forced herself to walk out with Wynn and ask if they could talk for a moment. Wynn looked surprised, but immediately agreed.

      “Want to go grab coffee or can this be talked about in the parking lot?”

      Renee glanced around. Everyone else had already left and the gallery was closed on Tuesdays, so customers would not be arriving.

      “I just need a second,” she said, not sure how to begin. Or what to say. Or... “I had sex with Jasper.”

      Wynn, a gorgeous woman with curly, dark hair, raised her eyebrows. “Interesting.”

      “Sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that. It’s just you two used to, you know, be friends, and now you’re not and I wasn’t sure if you were still, um, thinking about him and if it was all right that I...”

      “Had sex with him?” The corners of Wynn’s mouth twitched. “Aren’t you asking a little late? The deed is done.”

      “I know, but it was unexpected, so I didn’t really have time to text you.”

      Wynn grinned. “That would have been a really noteworthy text for sure.” Her expression turned serious. “Our relationship ended last year. We’re completely done and what he does with you is great with me.” The smile returned. “I mean that in a not awkward way.”

      Relief erased the guilt. “You’re sure?”

      “Very. Jasper and I weren’t right for each other. He’s a great guy, but not my great guy.”

      “Oh, this isn’t serious,” Renee said quickly. “Neither of us is looking for that. This is very much a no-strings kind of thing.” No way she was going to mention the booty call aspect of things.

      “That’s how it always starts.” Wynn tilted her head. “Just as an FYI, Jasper isn’t as broken as he thinks. You might want to be careful about that.”

      Renee had no idea what she was talking about. “Meaning?”

      “Most normal guys eventually reach a place where they want more. If you’re sure that’s not in the cards for you, great. But Jasper just might want to change the rules.”

      “I can’t see that happening.”

      “Maybe I’m wrong.” She smiled. “I’m glad you two found each other. It’s nice to be a part of something.”

      “What about you?”

      Wynn shook her head. “Yeah, I’m not really that girl. I try to be, but I’m not.”

       CHAPTER FOUR

      JASPER THOUGHT ABOUT throwing his laptop out the window, but as always, talked himself down. The urge occurred fairly regularly and so far he’d resisted destroying his computer. No good would come of it, he reminded himself. It wasn’t as if getting rid of the piece of equipment would solve the problem. It wasn’t the keyboard’s fault that he couldn’t write for shit.

      “Dammit,” he growled, pounding on the table.

      Koda raised his head, as if asking what was wrong.

      “Sorry,” he told the dog. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be more quiet.” Jasper saved the pitiful three sentences it had taken him the entire morning to write and leaned back in his chair.

      “I can’t write women,” he told the dog. “Never knew it was a problem. After six years of being published, you wouldn’t think that would be news, but it turns out I’ve never tried to write a woman before. Not one who isn’t a victim or a one-night stand.”

      He rested his head in his hand. “Please don’t repeat that to anyone. It makes me sound like a misogynistic asshole and I’m not. It’s just my detective had been single through the entire series and now that I’m wrapping things up with him and moving on to another character, everyone thinks I need to leave Vidar in a better place, and that means involved with a woman.”

      His editor had suggested the idea more than once, and Jasper knew she was right. But who was the woman and how did they meet and when they met, what did they talk about? So far all his dialogue had been stilted and unrealistic. Book dialogue was not like normal human-to-human conversation. It was high points and information and moving the plot forward. In real life...

      He smiled, thinking about the conversations he’d had the other night with Renee. Now those had been fun. Especially the parts where she’d gasped “More” or “Harder.” Neither of which was going to make it into his book. Writing a woman was difficult enough—no way he could write sex. He wrote about serial killers, and unless sex was part of the ritual murder, he absolutely was not going there in his novel.

      Jasper looked at Koda. “I am one sick guy,” he admitted. “I need help.”

      Koda got up and stretched, then picked up his stuffed rabbit and carried it over to Jasper.

      “Thanks,” Jasper told the dog, before tossing it across his office. Koda trotted over and picked up the rabbit, carrying it back to Jasper, who threw it again.

      They played the game for a few minutes before Jasper gave up pretending to work. He stood and headed for the door, Koda at his heels. They both went outside. Koda headed off into the woods to take care of business while Jasper looked around, wondering if there was any inspiration to be had or if he should simply accept his limitations and hope his career continued despite them.

      He was deep in self-flagellation when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. Hunter Beauchene walked around the side of the house.

      Wynn’s son was thirteen now, and getting taller by the day. He was at that awkward stage where his arms and legs didn’t fit with his torso. His voice was in the process of changing and every now and then, Jasper caught glimpses of the man