“I can’t sit yet.” Not when she was still carrying the sexual buzz from that kiss. But she spread some cheese on a cracker, poured herself a glass of wine.

And hearing Avery, poured a second.

“God! It’s always something.” Avery grabbed the wine, slugged some down. “Okay, let’s get this ball-roasting started. Oooh, raspberries.” She popped two, plopped beside Clare on the butter yellow leather sofa, pulled the clip from her hair, shook it out. “Tell us all.”

Hope did just that, starting with Jonathan’s appearance at the door.

“He’s wrong, and he’s stupid,” Clare interrupted. “Saying you can’t be happy here. You are happy here.”

“I am, but you know what? Having him say that made me understand just how happy. I’m exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do. And bonus. I have both of you.”

“Smarmy sleaze,” Avery muttered. “He’s a smeaze.”

“He’s a smeaze,” Hope agreed, then continued. When she got to Jonathan’s “offer,” Avery sprang up, shook her fists. “He thinks he can call you a whore—because that’s just what he did. He needs to be punished. He needs to pay.”

“He needs to be ignored,” Hope corrected. “He’ll suffer more. But I gave him what Ryder called a kick in the balls.”

“I wish you meant literally,” Clare murmured.

“Pregnancy makes her violent,” Hope told Avery. “I was telling him what I thought of his offer—as in ‘stuff it’—when I saw Ryder coming across the lot. I just went with impulse. I called him and went over and laid a hot one on him.”

“On Ryder?” Clare qualified. “You kissed Ryder?”

“In front of Jonathan—I get it.” Folding her arms, Avery nodded in approval. “It’s ‘up yours, asshole. Look at this sexy bite of man candy I’ve got now.’”

“Exactly. I asked Ryder to go along, and he got it, and he did. Jonathan looked like he’d swallowed a whole lemon—a whole rotten lemon. It was very satisfying. Then.” She flicked her fingers. “He left. Done.”

“Are you sure?” Clare gripped her hands in her lap. “He could come back. He could try something. I thought Sam was just a nuisance, but—”

“Honey. Honey,” Hope repeated and moved to the couch to flank Clare, take her hand. “It’s not like that. Sam’s a sick, obsessed man. He stalked you, and you were never involved with him. You never gave him reason. I was involved with Jonathan. He’s arrogant, his morals are skewed, and he’s a major asshole, but it’s not like that at all. He’s too full of pride and vanity to come back. He’ll assume I’ll change my mind, and when I don’t, he’ll move on to someone else.”

“You need to be careful. You have to promise me.”