Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            Tom leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his desk and stretching his back. His muscles had grown stiff from sitting at his keyboard for far too long. He glanced at the wall of his office that faced Liza’s bedroom, wishing things weren’t so weird between them. He could have used one of her shoulder massages right about now. He loved the feel of her hands on his skin.

            But she was probably asleep. Curled up in the nest of soft blankets she liked so much. Warm and pliant, smelling like apples and tasting like chocolate because she always had some for a bedtime snack.

            He stiffened, in more ways than one. Goddammit.

            He was hard. He’d felt desire since Tory died. Always when he’d been with Liza. Always he’d shoved it back, but tonight denial was much more difficult. He wanted Liza. Dammit.

            Clenching his eyes shut, he swallowed a groan, wanting to call Rafe Sokolov and curse him to hell and back. Putting thoughts in his mind like that.

            That Liza might be for me. That she might want me. That I could have her for my own.

            Because it was not true. She was his friend, one of his oldest friends. They loved each other, true, but like friends. They took care of each other and that was all.

            Tell that to your cock, buddy.

            This was lust and it was wrong. If I give in—which I won’t—it will ruin our friendship.

            “Do we still have a friendship?” he asked, and Pebbles looked at him. The Great Dane lay pressed against the common wall, as if she knew that Liza was just beyond it. “Well? Do we?”

            Pebbles snorted like the small horse she was and went back to sleep.

            Tom sighed. He was getting nothing done. After his conversations with Rafe and then his mother, he’d returned to his office and picked up his attempt at tracing Cameron Cook’s e-mail.

            From Hayley, who was pregnant and scared and about to give birth in that horrible place. His arousal fled as he imagined Tory being scared the night she’d been killed, certain that she’d been more afraid for their baby than for herself. No one had saved Tory that night.

            Everything in Tom yearned to get Hayley to safety. He’d tried everything he knew, both legal and illegal, but kept slamming up against nothing. It was like Eden’s network had disappeared—maybe at the same time as their last move?

            It was possible that they’d gone someplace where they couldn’t get online. It was also possible that their equipment—the satellite dish that Amos had discovered at their most recent location—had been damaged.

            They had taken it with them when they evacuated. Tom had checked himself, searching the perimeter of the compound Amos had described a month ago when he’d first escaped with Abigail. Tom had found evidence that a cable had been buried and then dug up. Maybe they’d damaged the cable when they’d ripped it from the earth.

            Maybe, maybe, maybe. He blew out a breath and pushed away from his desk, needing . . . something. Exercise? Food? More booze?

            No, definitely not more booze. He’d had more alcohol tonight than he usually consumed in a month.

            His glance flitted to the wall again and he had to fight the urge to bang on it with his fists, to wake Liza up and demand that she tell him what was wrong.

            You know what’s wrong. Stop being an obtuse dick.

            He hung his head, suddenly too weary to ignore it any longer. “I am a dick,” he whispered.

            Karl had tried to tell him, and he’d made a joke.

            Rafe had tried to tell him, and he’d thrown him out.

            His mother had tried to tell him multiple times as they’d talked on the phone, but each time Tom had changed the subject and his mother had allowed him to do so, albeit reluctantly.

            Even Croft had tried to tell him that Liza’s wants and needs might have changed during the seven years of their friendship, but he’d pretended to be clueless.

            Dammit all to hell. “I don’t want this,” he growled to Pebbles. “I don’t want to want her.” But he did want her. He could lie to himself, but his body apparently knew the truth. He wanted her friendship, her laughter, all of her smiles. And he wanted to curl up with her under those soft blankets and see what would happen. “I can’t want her.”