The words, and the easy, victorious way he said them made her want to cry all over again. It wasn’t until much later, after they’d had a romantic dinner in their room and made love and snuggled into each other’s waiting arms, that she thought about what she’d said to him, the terrible, wrenching horror of her threat; the gauntlet she’d thrown down to God.

Tully eased off Grant’s naked body and flopped onto the bed, still breathing hard. “Wow,” she said, closing her eyes. “That was great.”

“Indeed it was.”

“I’m so glad you were in town this weekend. This was exactly what I needed.”

“You and me both, my love.”

She loved listening to his accent, feeling his naked body against hers. This was a moment to hang on to, to cling to, even, because as soon as he left her bed, she knew her unease would come back. She’d been battling it since her call to Kate. Nothing could disrupt her self-confidence or make her feel edgy like being mad at her best friend.

Grant sat up in bed.

She touched his back, thought about asking him to stay the night again, to put off his meeting, but that wasn’t the kind of relationship they had. They were friends who met for sex and laughter for a few hours and then went their own ways.

Beside him, the bedside phone rang. He reached for it.

“Don’t answer it. I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

“I gave the office this number.” He picked up the phone and answered. “Hello?. . . Grant,” he said. “And who are you? Oh, I see.” He paused, frowning, then laughed. “I can do that.” He held the phone to his naked chest and turned to Tully. “Your best friend forever says—and I quote—that you are to get your lily-white ass out of your bed and come to the damn phone. She says further that if you give her any shit on this of all days that she will beat you until you beg for mercy.” He chuckled again. “She sounds serious.”

“I’ll take the call.”

Grant handed her the phone and walked naked toward the bathroom. When he shut the door, Tully brought the phone to her ear and said, “Who is this?”

“Very funny.”

“I had a best friend forever once, but she was a real bitch to me, so I figured—”

“Look, Tully, normally I’d grovel for an hour or so and spoon a bunch of humble pie down my throat, but I don’t have time for the ritual today. I’m sorry. Your phone call came at a bad time and I was snotty. Okay?”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Johnny. He’s going to Baghdad tomorrow.”