Free No Apologies by Tracy Wolff Page A

her shoes than she did with any man? Even Gabe.
     
    Smart, she decided as she glanced down at the sparkly crimson miracles, admiring the sheer beauty and craftsmanship that had gone into her most recent purchase. Investing in her shoes instead of a man definitely made her smarter than so many of the women she competed with on the dating scene.
     
    She glanced up as her waiter approached. “Can I get you another chardonnay, Annalise?” Angelo asked, laying a familiar hand on her shoulder and leaning down to speak quietly in her ear.
     
    Taking the last sip, she handed him her glass with a flourish. “You bet, sugar. But just one more—I’m driving.”
     
    He glanced across the restaurant. “Gabe’s busy tonight, huh?”
     
    “Oh yeah. You know Gabe and his one-track mind.” Though she was doing her best to distract him. Leaning into Angelo, she gave a breathy laugh and laid a well-manicured hand on his forearm.
     
    He nodded, his blue eyes darkening as she stroked him through the thin fabric of his suit. “If he’s busy for the rest of the night, I get off at ten-thirty.” His hand slid from her shoulder to the small of her back.
     
    Annalise grinned up at him—she couldn’t help it, he was just so irrepressible. And one of her favorite fuck buddies for just that reason. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she murmured, turning in to him so that her breasts brushed against his arm.
     
    “Too long,” he answered, his voice deepening as her nipple hardened against his muscular bicep. Gabe and his hot stare had her in such a state of arousal that just that one quick brush against Angelo had her nipples standing at attention.
     
    But she had bigger plans and, with a sigh of regret, she eased back from him. “I’ve got something going tonight, sugar. But if you’re free on Monday…”
     
    His grin was frankly sensual. “I’ll call you.”
     
    “You do that.” She gave him a slow smile and a wink before letting her hand drop, oh so leisurely, from his arm. “And I’ll take the pasta primavera whenever you get a chance.”
     
    “You got it.” After an intimate shoulder squeeze, he headed toward the kitchen, a noticeable spring in his step.
     
    Annalise grinned before she could help herself. Men were just too easy. Or at least, most men were. She spent a minute watching Angelo walk away, giving both Gabe and herself a chance to process the interaction.
     
    Not that Gabe really needed much time to process, she mused. His fury was a living entity, crossing the space between them and skewering her without a word. She was playing with fire and she knew it—but the pleasurable pain that came with the burn made the game impossible to resist.
     
    Besides, Gabe’s possessive nature was beginning to grate. She’d made it abundantly clear before they’d gotten together—and in the months since—that they weren’t exclusive. They weren’t serious. And they certainly weren’t emotionally involved. She didn’t do emotions and hadn’t for eight long years. And Gabe had agreed when she’d laid out the rules.
     
    Agreed, hell, he’d been right there with her—looking for a good time with no strings attached. It’s what had made them so perfect for each other. He knew she had guys on the side—she let things slip every once in a while, sometimes refused to see him because she already had a date, occasionally answered calls from other men when she was out with him. Just little clues, enough to make sure he knew that she wasn’t harboring any happily-ever-after fantasies like so many of the other women in his life. And he definitely had other women—she wasn’t naive enough to think that he didn’t. Nor did it bother her—why should it when he always had more than enough left to give her what she wanted?
     
    Refusing to be a coward—she’d done nothing wrong, after all—Annalise slowly lifted her head and let her blue eyes meet his nearly black ones across the dining room. Sparks