With an abrupt movement, she closed the laptop. Then, after putting the computer down on the antique trunk she used as a coffee table, Judith pushed herself off the couch and strode over to the windows of her apartment before pacing back again, restless.
Oh boy, she was doing a Joseph.
Judith glared at the laptop, sticking her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. She was crazy, letting wretched Caleb Steele and his stupid smile get to her like this. So he was hot. So what? No, she did not still feel the brush of his fingers on her skin. And no, she hadn’t been trembling just before he’d done it. No, of course not.
She wasn’t hungry for him. Or aching for him. She wasn’t. Not. At. All.
Giving a soft growl, Judith walked to the couch, sat down, and opened the laptop again. As the screen fired up, Caleb’s image grinned at her.
She scowled at him. Stupid man. Stupid hot smile.
Perhaps she wouldn’t get a quote. Perhaps she’d just draw a mustache on him with her photo editing program. Or perhaps type the words of the latest unflattering Internet meme all over him and post it on her Facebook page instead.
The doorbell to her apartment rang and for one hideous second she thought it would be Caleb paying her a visit to collect his image. Which was just insane, since he had no idea where she lived anyway.
Judith got up again and walked down the hallway to the front door.
Of course it wasn’t Caleb. And she didn’t want it to be. Nope. No way.
She pulled open the front door, weirdly relieved—and at the same time disappointed—to find Marisa, Christie’s friend, waiting in the hallway outside.
Marisa smiled. “Hey, Judith. Sorry, hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this. Christie’s been nagging at me to pick up those prints from the wedding and since I was in the neighborhood…”
“Oh, no problem. I’ve got them all ready for her.” Judith’s natural courtesy and a desire for something to distract herself from the endless Caleb Steele thoughts kicked in.
She’d gotten to know Marisa during the build-up of Christie’s and Joseph’s wedding and really liked her. The other woman was smart and had a snarky sense of humor that neatly matched Judith’s own.
“Look, why don’t you come in while I grab them? I’ll show you the wedding pics I’ve got on my laptop, too, if you like.”
“I don’t want to interrupt—”
“I have wine.”
The look on Marisa’s lovely face brightened. “Well, in that case.”
Three hours, a Chinese takeout, and two bottles of wine later, Marisa wiped the tears from her eyes. “I knew I liked you,” she said unsteadily as Judith put the finishing touches on the mustache she’d drawn across the photo of Joseph giving his groom’s speech. “That looks awesome.”
Judith, sitting on one of her red velvet floor cushions, the laptop on her knees, gave her brother a critical look. “Yeah, it is isn’t it? Mutton-chops suit him, though I suppose it looks a bit weird with the Billy Ray Cyrus mullet. All right, let’s find a good one of Chris to fiddle with.”
She cycled through the photos and both of them groaned at one of Christie and Joseph looking adoringly at each other.
“Ew, sickening.” Marisa made gagging sounds that Judith found stupidly funny, laughing till her sides hurt.
“What?” she said when she’d recovered. “Something tells me you’re not a romantic.”
“Nope.” Marisa flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. “Love sucks donkey balls.”
Judith choked on her merlot. “That’s pretty definite,” she managed.
Marisa lifted a shoulder. “I tried it. Hated it. Not much else to say, really.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, the usual. Fell in love with someone.” She took a huge gulp of wine. “Found out he was married way too late.”
“That does suck.”
“Yeah. Men are bastards.”
“Amen, sister.” Judith raised her glass. “Bastards all.”
The other woman leaned back on her hands, legs stretched out in front of her. “What about you? You got any war stories?”
Judith absently added a pipe to her brother’s photo. “No. Not really.”
“Oh, come on. Tell your old pal Marisa.” Her look turned sly. “What about Mr. Abs of Steele? There’s a story there. My spidey senses are tingling.”
Judith laughed, took another sip of wine. She was enjoying this, sitting around relaxed and having a girly chat. It wasn’t something she did often—most of her other friends were way too arty and intense to indulge in gossipy conversations about men. Marisa, open and easy-going, was a nice change.