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Authors: Susan Mallery

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BOOK: There's Always Plan B
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She grinned at her daughter, who smiled back until she remembered they weren't speaking. Then her smiled faded.

“Whatever,” she said, sounding bored. “I don't really care what you do.”

Jack leaned close to Tiffany. “It's a great idea.”

She smiled at
him.

Carly made some notes. “Okay, we have a new plan. Jack, you'll research the magnet and get back to me. Tiffany, how about looking for remoteactivated locks? I'll find out about cold spots. Mom—”

“I'll keep Adam occupied,” Rhonda said. “I don't think you should spend any more time alone with him.”

Carly felt both Jack and Tiffany turn in her direction.

“Fine by me,” she said, and meant it. Right now her life felt plenty full. She wasn't sure she could handle one more thing, and Adam certainly qualified as that.

CHAPTER 13

As
promised, Steve called and invited Carly to dinner. She wasn't sure if she wanted to go on an actual date with him, but she wasn't sure she didn't, either, so she'd accepted.

Now that she'd gotten used to the idea of him as a contemporary instead of a teacher, she could admit he was nice and funny and okay, while he didn't make her heart race or her body shake the way Adam could, he was still a fun guy. Sex wasn't everything, right?

Oh, who was she kidding? After the past few years of lackluster lovemaking with Neil, she felt she was due for something spectacular. So far, Adam seemed to be in the running for that—although she wasn't sure if she had the courage to give in if asked.

Steve…well, she wasn't so sure about him. Yes, he was attractive, but so far there hadn't been any tingles. Of course there hadn't been much chance for close encounters. She would have to see how the night went.

She ran a brush through her hair one more time, then gave herself a quick once-over. A pale summer dress skimmed her body to just above the knee. Her sandals were relatively new and purchased for their cuteness rather than their practicality. She debated bringing a sweater, then chose fashion over comfort and left it behind.

At exactly six twenty-nine she went downstairs and found Steve in the foyer, talking to Rhonda. He looked up as she entered and smiled at her.

“Hi,” he said as he walked toward her. He paused at her side and kissed her cheek. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured in her ear.

“Thanks.”

He looked pretty good, too. Not as overtly handsome as Adam, but still appealing in a charming, older-man sort of way. She was happy to see him and looking forward to the evening. Both good signs.

Carly waved to her mother and walked out with Steve. When he held open the passenger door of his black sedan, she had the feeling of being watched from the house. She glanced back over her shoulder, half expecting, half hoping to see Mary at one of the windows. But there wasn't anyone. No person and no ghost. Maybe she should simply accept that Mary hadn't existed. As much as she wanted things to be different, they weren't and she should probably get used to that.

The restaurant Steve chose had once been a winery. There were still old barrels stored up in the rafters and the scent of grapes lingered in the paneling. They were shown to a quiet table in the corner where they had a view of the lush courtyard.

Steve ignored the menu and leaned toward her. “I've been looking forward to this for a while.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I was intrigued that first day when you brought Tiffany to school.”

“Oh, good. So I don't have to worry that you thought about me before that.”

He grinned. “I'm not that twisted. A teacher thinking about a student? Not my style.”

“Twisted? Interesting word choice.”

“Hey, I learn plenty of hip talk in class.”

She leaned close. “You know we don't say hip anymore, right?”

“I'd heard that. But I'd always liked the word.”

She smiled. “Good to know.” She fingered her menu but didn't pick it up. “I was surprised you were still here. I know what you said about liking the town and putting down roots, but still. It's not the big city.”

“I grew up in Chicago. When I graduated from Northwestern I had two goals—to never shovel snow again and to live near the ocean. I have both here. Then I got married and had kids. We didn't want to uproot them, and to be honest, I didn't want to uproot myself. I guess I could have had more ambition, but I don't.”

Wanting a simpler life looked okay on Steve, she thought. “You make a difference,” she said. “That matters more than ambition. You touch those kids every day.”

“Not every day. Maybe once a week. When things are going well.”

She laughed. “Fair enough. How old are
your
kids?”

“Brad, the youngest, is in his first year of college. The twins, Katie and Mark, graduate next year. She's going to be a kindergarten teacher and he's applying to law school.”

She winced. “That's a lot to pay for.”

“It's not a problem. Bonnie had a large life insurance policy. It's going to put the kids through college and then some.”

“I'd heard your wife died. I'm sorry.”

“Me, too. We had a great marriage. She was diagnosed with liver cancer in September and gone before Christmas. In some ways it was easier that it was so fast. She suffered a lot less. Selfishly, I wanted her around a whole lot longer.”

“I'm sure you did.”

None of her friends had lost a spouse. That was supposed to happen to parents and friends of parents.

“How long has it been?” she asked.

“The kids were still pretty young. It was hard. Bonnie's mom moved in for a few years. People thought I was crazy asking my mother-in-law to come live with us, but she was terrific. She picked up the slack, gave Katie a woman to talk to and got us through the worst of it.”

“Where is she now?”

“Enjoying her well-deserved retirement in Sun City. That's down south. She has a lot of friends there and it's close enough that we can all visit.”

He shook his head. “This wasn't how the conversation was supposed to go. I was going to dazzle you with my wit and charm.”

“What makes you think you haven't?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Then you have really low standards.”

She laughed. “I don't get out much.”

“Any dating since the divorce?”

“No.” When would she have found the time? Plus there weren't exactly dozens of men lining up to spend the evening with her.

“So I'm the first?”

She nodded, knowing she couldn't really count her dinner with Adam. She'd invited him for the express purpose of getting him out of the house for the failed furniture rearranging. As for the kiss afterward, she wasn't thinking about it anymore, let alone talking about it.

“Speaking of living with relatives, how are you doing with your mom?” he asked.

Carly wrinkled her nose. “It's okay. Some days are easier than others. I'm sure Tiffany would say I make her as crazy as my mom makes me, but I can't imagine it.”

“You're in a unique situation,” Steve told her. “Your mother is a lovely person, but she's also a professional victim. No matter what happens, it's never her fault.”

The waiter appeared just then and asked for their drink orders. Carly thought she'd asked for white wine, but she wasn't sure. She was too stunned to think.

Steve had nailed it. In two words, he'd summarized her mother in a way she'd never been able to do. Of course—a professional victim. That explained so much. Everything really.

“Are you all right?” Steve asked when the waiter had left.

“What? Oh, yes. I was thinking about what you said. You're so right—she
is
a professional victim. Why does being able to name the condition suddenly make it easier to deal with?”

“Not a clue,” he said.

“Maybe it makes me feel I'm less crazy.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Sometimes.”

“Then I'm glad I could help.”

Whatever concerns or tensions she'd had about the evening faded away. Suddenly she wanted to know everything about him.

“Okay, enough about me and my mother,” she said. “What do you do for fun around here?”

 

Nearly two hours later Carly set down her fork and groaned. “I ate way too much. I'm going to have to make up for this by never eating again.”

“I'm glad you liked everything,” Steve said, looking amused.

“What?” she asked.

“I never thought you'd get through that whole slice of prime rib, let alone the banana cream pie.”

She glanced down at her empty plate. “Yes, well, I was hungry.”

“Apparently.”

Oh, no. Had she broken a dating rule? “Do women still not eat when they go out with men?” she asked. “I remember that from high school, but I figured because we were older, it didn't matter.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed your meal, and of course you're allowed to eat. Not enough women do.”

Oh, great. “So your other women are superskinny?”

Steve paused in the act of pouring them each another glass of wine. “Okay, I sense several potentially dangerous pitfalls in that sentence. Number one, I don't have ‘other women.'”

“That's not what I've heard,” Carly said breezily. She could certainly feel the two glasses of wine she'd already had and was about to indulge in a third.
So
not like her, but then it felt fun to be someone else for the night.

“I've heard you're quite the ladies' man. I was even warned about you.”

“Really? What was the warning?”

“That you'd probably try to seduce me, but not to expect a real relationship.”

As soon as the words were out, she covered her mouth with her fingers.

“I did
not
say that,” she mumbled.

Steve grinned. “I'm afraid you did. Interesting. I didn't realize I had such a reputation. I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted.”

“Flattered,” she said, dropping her hand back to her waist. “That's how it was meant.”

“Why don't I believe you?”

“Not a clue.” She did her best to look completely innocent. “So, why don't you tell me more about your summer trips to that village in Mexico? I think it's so great you take those teenage boys with you and then you all build housing for the poor.”

“There's nothing more to tell. Let's stay on the subject of my seducing you.”

“Not a good idea.”

He looked at her as if trying to decide if he should pursue it or not. Carly crossed her fingers that he wouldn't. Right now she was a little drunk and very confused. She'd come into the dinner with clear-cut ideas about not being attracted to Steve, and now she found she was. The feelings were different from her wild, visceral reaction to Adam, but still intriguing. Jeez, who would have believed that less than three months after her divorce she would have thoughts about getting involved with two different guys? Not that either had actually asked, but there were possibilities, and she liked that about them.

“I didn't realize you were such a lightweight,” Steve said. “You're swaying in your seat after only two glasses of wine.”

“Three,” she said, pointing at the full glass in front of her.

“You haven't drunk that one yet, and I'm thinking you probably shouldn't. Who knows what would happen?”

She grinned.

He shook his head. “That does it. Less liquor for you.”

“I would have thought you would like me drunk.”

“I like to think I'm the kind of guy who can get his girl without help from alcohol.” He flagged down the waiter and asked for the check.

“What about our walk on the beach?” she asked. “You said we were going to do that.”

“I think we should save that for another time. I don't want you falling in.”

“I'm not that drunk.”

“You could have fooled me.”

Carly didn't remember much about the drive home. She enjoyed her buzz and her newfound interest in Steve. When he parked in front of the B and B, she turned toward him in eager anticipation of his kiss. But instead of pulling her close and laying one on her, he lightly touched her cheek.

“Thanks for dinner,” he said.

“That's my line. I had a nice time.”

“Me, too. We'll have to do it again.”

He smiled at her and got out of the car.

Carly blinked in confusion. That was it? He wasn't going to kiss her? Why? Hadn't he had a good time?

He opened the passenger door and she stepped out into the cool night.

“You didn't kiss me,” she said before she could stop herself.

“I know,” he said with a chuckle. “This is your first dating experience since the divorce. I thought I'd take it slow.”

That was so nice, she thought happily. He was really nice. She liked nice. And him.

“Okay,” she said. “It's not like I'm going anywhere.”

“Good to know.”

He walked her to the front door, lightly kissed her cheek, then opened the door and gave her a little push inside.

“I'll give you a call in a couple of days,” he promised.

She waved her fingers at him and wondered if men calling when they said they would really happened these days, or if the male of the species was as undependable as she remembered.

BOOK: There's Always Plan B
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