Say You're Mine: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Southport Love Stories Book 4), Sarah Brooks [urban books to read .txt] 📗

Whitney, always the classy one of the bunch, poured herself a glass of white wine. “God, I love this space, Skylar. It’s absolutely beautiful,” she breathed, walking into the glass conservatory that I used as a breakfast nook.

“It really is stunning,” Lena added, following her.

“Yeah, it turned out nice,” I agreed. The glass conservatory was one of my favorite additions to the house with its vaulted glass ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the forest behind the house. In the morning it was bright with the morning sun that warmed the space. I had filled the room off the kitchen with house plants and it now resembled something like a tropical greenhouse. The flooring was the mosaic stone that was cool under your feet, which contrasted nicely with the heat during the day. The back of the conservatory consisted of massive pocket doors that I had opened to let in the chilled evening air.

“I’d kill for something like this in my house,” Meg said, standing in the open doorway looking out into my backyard. “The light would be perfect for painting.”

“This must have cost a fortune to build,” Whitney commented, sitting down at the farm-style table I had in the middle of the room.

“Not really. I got a great deal on it,” I told her, my stomach doing that annoying somersault thing.

Lena snorted. “Good deal meaning you only had to pay for it with your company.” She gave me a saucy wink and I narrowed my eyes in warning. A warning she of course wouldn't take.

“Oh that’s right, Rob’s friends built it, didn’t they?” Meg asked, sitting down beside her sister.

“It was a contractor out of Philly. They came highly recommended,” I replied vaguely.

“That was a friend of Rob’s,” Lena interjected. “I remember him telling Jeremy they owed him a favor and were doing the work for next to nothing.” Lena raised an eyebrow. “Funny how he went to so much trouble given you weren’t even together or anything.”

Lena Decate Wyatt was like a dog with a bone when she wanted information. Which is what made her a fantastic attorney. But it was more than a little annoying when that particular talent was turned on you. It was a good thing I had learned the art of the poker face from an early age.

“We were friends. He was helping me out.” I shrugged. I could do blasé with the best of them.

If Lena’s eyebrows went up any higher, they’d disappear altogether. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend that called in pricey favors on my behalf unless we were sleeping together.” Now those eyebrows were wiggling. “Or they wanted to sleep with me. So which is it, Murphy?”

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to respond.

“You guys seemed close there for a while. What happened?” Whitney asked.

I glanced at Meg and she gave me a sympathetic smile. She knew what happened. There wasn’t a single thing in my life that Meg Galloway Decate wasn’t aware of. It was both the blessing and curse of best friendship.

“I hate to disappoint you, but there’s nothing sordid or dramatic to report. We were sort of friends for a while. Now we’re not. End of story,” I brushed off. I really didn’t want to talk about my almost...whatever...with Robert Jenkins, attorney extraordinaire.

“Sort of friends?” Lena prodded. “There was nothing ‘sort of’ about it. You guys were up against each other’s asses for months. I have never seen that man on the phone so much. Everyone knows Jenkins is allergic to all social activity.” She gave me a loaded look. “But for you, he seemed to make all kinds of exceptions.”

I felt stiff. I didn’t want to talk about Robert, Lena’s law partner. I didn’t want to talk about how I found myself liking the shy but incredibly intelligent man. How I hadn’t been swayed by his sexy good looks, but by his thoughtfulness and his huge...brain.

I had just come out of a too serious, too shitty relationship. I was brittle and raw and Robert seemed to sense that. He wasn’t a pushy guy. He was so laid back he was in danger of becoming horizontal. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, you listened, because it was usually something interesting that made you think.

For a brief moment, we had spent time together. I couldn’t get enough of talking to him. We started sliding toward the beginnings of something. But then I realized that the more we talked, the less Robert actually said.

Sure we had conversations about everything from the death penalty to our favorite Bruce Lee movies. We talked about all the little stuff but none of the big stuff. And when I told him about Mac and how torn up I had been even as I tried to hide it from everyone else, he never shared anything about himself. When I asked him questions about his past or his family, he somehow never really answered them.

So, no, I couldn’t call him a friend, because at the end of the day I knew absolutely nothing about him.

“Look, he’s a nice guy, but I don’t have time for a man who is all mystery and no substance,” I snapped, picking up my beer and walking into the living room, hoping my friends would clue in on my not so subtle cue.

“Dude, that’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Lena called out, following me. “Sure, he’s kind of boring, but we’re talking about Mr. Morals. The man who once drove back to the city when he realized the restaurant he had gone to undercharged him.”

“It’s not about his personality. That wasn’t the problem,” I found myself saying. I sat down heavily on the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table. My mother would have screamed her head off if I had dared to do that when I was younger, so now I found myself putting my feet up on anything and everything—just because I could.

Whitney sat down in the recliner as