Page 8 of Shattered

He’s not offended. Instead he offers a soft smile, and I force my own, wishing I didn’t have to. Wishing the prospect of him and Allegra getting married didn’t scare the hell out of me.

Shortly after Ian leaves for work, I hear some crashing on my back deck as I pull my scrub top over my head. I rush down to the back door in the kitchen, instantly relaxing when I spot a curtain of long red hair through the window. I roll my eyes as I open the door and step out onto the deck in my sock feet. It’s just after eight, and the sun is already beating down, warming my cheeks.

Juliet has hauled an enormous weighted punching bag up three steps and onto my back deck, and I have no idea how she did it. She’s tall and fit, sure, but she would not be the one I’d call if I needed heavy lifting done, that’s for sure.

She positions it in the center of my deck before straightening her back and letting out a sigh, her perky eyes meeting mine as she finally notices her audience.

“Morning,” she says in a singsong voice. The woman is thirty-four, five years older than me, but she acts like a teenager sometimes. She wakes up with boundless energy, which is exhausting when I need at least two cups of coffee before I’m a human being.

I try to formulate the question and don’t know what I’m asking. Instead, I settle on a confused arm gesture and a “what?”

“Ian told me you might need something to punch this morning, so I swiped this from Gareth.”

I sigh in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” Juliet drops into one of my deck chairs, making herself at home. “So, what is it? Is she knocked up? I wouldn’t be surprised, the woman’s fertile fucking Myrtle.”

She’s not wrong. Allegra’s already been pregnant twice. “She’snot pregnant.”

“So they’re getting married,” Juliet says, noting the obvious next guess.

It’s not my secret to tell, but the look on my face must give her the answer as her brows lift.

“Just don’t say anything. They’re making the announcement tonight.”

She doesn’t react; instead, her eyes narrow on me with concern. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say simply.

“You should call in sick, and we’ll spend the day together.”

I shoot her a glare. “You know I can’t do that.” I’ve called in sick four times in the last two months. If I do it again, Dr. Parr is going to be pissed.

“I could eat you out before you go.”

“What?” I balk.

“Oral. Fellatio. Do you want me to spell it out for you? Because I can, on your clit.”

“What a charming and generous offer,” I mumble.

“You enjoyed it at the lake, in front of everyone.”

I roll my eyes. “That was a show for the guys.”

“Macy thought it was hot too, she told me.”

“Juliet... What is this about?” I sigh.

Finally, she spits it out. “Turner may have wanted me to check in on you, too.”

My blood boils as I bounce to my feet. “Can anyone just ask me a direct fucking question!?”

She winces. “To be fair, you’ve been a little explosive lately. They just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Juliet has been my friend for ages, but I wouldn’t exactly call her the sensitive one. “And they sent you?”

“No, they asked Macy, but I was right there both times, and I guess I beat her to the punch.”

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