Emergency Ex by Mardi Ballou Page A

all the sexier as she leaned into his naked chest. By the end of the kiss he was half erect again, the bulge in his jeans making her exit all the more of a challenge.
    That was the way she’d remember him. At his best. With an erection for her, not for another woman.
    “Isn’t this enough to entice you to stay longer?” His voice grew husky as he thrust against her.
    Yes. “No. I’ve got to go.”
    “But, Brenda, when do we start making plans for your birthday? You know I want to.”
    Right before she walked through the door and closed it, she turned back to her love and whispered, “Never.”
     
    Never? No way he’d accept that. He started to run after her, remembered he was bare-chested and threw on his shirt, buttoning as he went. “Brenda,” he called as he raced after her.
    Barefoot, which he remembered too late to go back for shoes. He caught up with her just as she was getting in her car. “Brenda,” he panted.
    She gazed at him with tear-filled eyes. “I can’t do this anymore, Keith. I can’t be one of your women.”
    He stamped his bare foot, which hurt like hell. “You’re not. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. All that crap is over.”
    “Right. I saw the evidence of that plain and simple when I got here.”
    “Dammit, I explained that. You’re the only one.”
    “At this moment. Not enough. Not anymore.” She shook her head. “Too little, way too late. Don’t follow me. We’re done.” She sobbed the last word.
    He reached out to her, but she didn’t look at him. Just drove off.
    Shirt buttoned unevenly and feet aching and freezing, he hobbled back to his condo. He’d made a great friggin’ start on his new life—their new life.

 
     
     
    Chapter Five
    May 26th—Brenda’s Thirtieth Birthday
    Chelsey wagged her tail and made welcoming sounds when Brenda got to her condo. Who needs a man when I have a dog like Chelsey?
    After getting little sleep, Brenda rolled out of bed too early. Usually Saturday was her favorite day of the week—a time to goof off or, more usually, to catch up with everything she’d not attended to during the week. Since her thirtieth birthday was on this particular Saturday, she’d expected the day to be extraordinary. Now she had nothing to do. Even worse, she’d been so efficient the past week that she didn’t even have a single chore.
    She looked at herself in the mirror and shuddered. “So you’re thirty—a reason to celebrate. Why are you shuffling around, looking like something a cat would refuse to drag in? What are you going to do today to make it special?” Brenda had a tendency not to be very nice when she talked to herself.
    The world was wide open to her and all she could think about was her misery. “You look all set to be the guest of honor at your very own pity party,” she told her unhappy reflection.
    Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she could have sworn her reflection looked back with a scowl. “What’s with the pity-party crap?”
    “Keith,” Brenda moaned, clutching her throat as if it hurt to utter his name. “Keith…”
    “Him again? What are you, in middle school?”
    “I… I l-l-love him.” Her voice shook and tears filled her eyes.
    “You l-l-love him? Give me a break.” Her reflection rolled her eyes, which startled Brenda enough to open her eyes wide. “I can’t believe you’re letting that loser be your excuse for even one more moment of misery. You want a pity party? Fine. Have one.”
    “Thanks for the permission,” she hissed to the mirror with a touch of sarcasm.
    Reflection Brenda drew her brows together and glared out. “Anything more than ten minutes is too much.”
    Real Brenda reeled backward. Whoa. I must be in a bad way if I’m hallucinating nasty images of myself. Much as she didn’t appreciate Reflection Brenda’s message, she had to admit the phantom had a point. No one else was going to put a limit on her pain and suffering if she didn’t do so herself. A ten-minute pity