The knowledge that we were talking about Lila struck me like a bell, reverberating down my spine. I caught myself frowning and schooled my face.

“Because she told me, you ninny. He’s a doctor, Tess. He should understand female anatomy.”

“I mean, in theory,” Tess answered.

“Lila thinks it’s because he’s too hot to have to try,” Ivy noted.

“Is that a thing?” I asked dubiously.

“Oh, it’s a thing,” she assured me. “The really hot ones go one of two ways—either they’re gods or complete duds. There is no in-between. Size of ego usually has something to do with it. Any man who would take a woman to bed thinking she was the lucky one has it all wrong.”

“I think you’re just mad at Brock,” Tess said, turning back to the arrangement she was working on.

“Damn right I’m mad at Brock. She came home last night a mess, and it’s his fault. He wasted her time and her love. I shudder to think what he said to her to have shaken her up like he did.”

“You don’t even know if he was there,” Tess argued.

“Oh, he was there. I know my sister.” Ivy huffed. “Stupid jerk. Of all the low down, dirty ways he could have played her, that was the worst.”

This time when I frowned, there was no stopping it. “Brock?”

“Her stupid boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.” Ivy sulked, grabbing a zinnia and snipping its stem like it was Brock’s inattentive member. “She walked in on him nailing a Felix Femme in their entryway last week. After she busted her ass in the flower bed.”

I leaned a hip on the table, folding my arms. A flash of rage burned through my chest like a meteor. “Which Femme?”

“Natasha. And worse—Lila has to see her practically daily, what with her sister’s wedding and all. God, you should have seen her when she came over after she caught him, still covered in greenhouse dirt.”

“She must have been furious,” Tess said.

“The opposite. She was matter-of-fact, completely calm and collected and in fixer mode. But that’s Lila. Whatever she felt, she kept it locked up or reserved it for when she was alone. In fact, she insisted it was a good thing. That she’d somehow learned something vital, thus saving herself. But I know she’s hurting. She thought they were going to get married, for God’s sake.” Ivy shook her head, brows drawn with concern. “I’ve always hated him, but now I could rip his face off and shove it down his throat like baloney.”

“How long were they together?” I asked carefully, hungry for details and shocked that any man could be so ungrateful.

“Two years. I always thought he was a douchebag, but I never suspected he’d sleep with a girl who couldn’t even drink—and right there in their apartment.”