Bachelor Number Four (7 page)

Lida shrugged. “Philip is a good guy, I promise. He knows the score. He’s going to show you a good time, and if you’re willing, he’s willing to show you an even better time.”

Arden chewed, swallowed, fixed her friend with a suspicious glance. “And how did you get him to agree to this?”

“Showed him your picture. Arden, whether you believe it or not, it’s not going to be hard for you to get a man to go to bed with you.”

“If Philip’s so nice and so great in the sack, why is he still single?”

Lida laughed. “Fear of commitment.”

“Ah.” One word, full of meaning.

“C’mon, Arden. He’ll be perfect for you. He’s not interested in being your boyfriend. He’s very cute. Nice job. Nice car. Good sense of humor. Give him a try for one night, okay?”

Arden sighed, nodded, and dug into her lunch. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t interested. The dreams she’d been having lately had convinced her she needed to do something to appease her reawakening sex drive, which was rapidly becoming distracting. She wasn’t ready for love, or even a boyfriend. Maybe this setup with Philip could be a good thing.

Lida pushed a small gift bag across the table toward Arden. “And here. From me and Heather.”

“I’m afraid to look.” She expected something funny, like thong underwear. Instead, the bag bulged with dozens of small foil squares. “Condoms?”

Lida raised a brow. “Do you have any?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, now you do.”

Arden sifted through the condom cascade, careful not to let any of them fall out of the bag. “Warming sensation? Ribbed for pleasure? Glow in the dark and…Lida! Cherry-flavored?”

“Knock yourself out, baby.” Lida laughed. “Have fun.”

“How much fun do you expect me to have?”

“Enough,” said Lida.

Arden tucked the bag into her purse and went back to her lunch. “Well, at the very least, if my car happens to go off a bridge I’ll be able to save myself by inflating them and using them to float to the surface of the water.”

Lida used her fork to point at Arden. “Don’t be a bitch.”

Arden reached across the table and took her friend’s hand, grateful to have someone who cared about her so much, even if she did show it in some very strange ways. “Learned from the best.”

Later, at the shop with the sewing machine whirring, Arden let her thoughts turn to other faces. She hadn’t heard from Shane since their Connex chat fiasco, but she couldn’t stop thinking of him. She logged into Connex every night to stare at his picture wondering if twelve years had changed him at all. Did he have lines around his eyes? Longer hair? And his eyes…oh, Shane’s eyes. Those would be the same, that shifting blue-green that kept haunting her dreams.

Useless fantasy. Shane Donner was a memory from her past, a one-time fling not meant to be repeated. Nope. She was moving on. Taking steps. Getting back on the horse, as Lida put it rather crudely.

Her stomach lurched at the thought of tonight’s date, but she forced away the incipient panic. She was going to meet Philip Davis. Nothing serious…just sex. And only if she wanted it, which Lida assured her, she would. It would be a relief—almost—not to play games. To know up front there was one purpose to the date.

She’d just taken her foot off the sewing machine pedal when the bell above the door jingled.

“Mommy!” Aislin swept in and ran straight for Arden, who had to hold her at bay long enough to move away from the moving needle before she gave in to the hug.

“Hi, baby doll. Where’re Maeve and Gran?”

Aislin jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “They’re coming.”

All at once Arden was overcome with an urge to squeeze her daughter, so strong it nearly overwhelmed her. She gave in to it, wrapping her arms around the girl and doing what she called “squeezing out the juice”.

“Mo-oom,” Aislin complained, then squeezed her in return.

Even as a toddler, Aislin had always patted the back of anyone she hugged. That simple gesture nearly undid Arden now. She fought back tears and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “What are you guys going to do tonight?”

“Gran says she and Grampa are going to let us stay up all night.”

Arden, who knew both her girls would be sacked out by half past eight, didn’t let on that sounded like a tall tale. “Really? All night?”

Aislin nodded, then leaned in to whisper, “And have popcorn.”

“Sounds like fun.” Wish I were going to be there, Arden thought, her stomach taking another twist at her upcoming night.

“Mommy?”

“Hmm?” she answered as she snipped off the last few threads and tidied up her workspace.

Aislin toyed with a bit of lace hanging out of Arden’s scrap box. “What are you doing tonight? Working?”

Arden took a deep but silent breath. “No. I think I’m going to go out with some friends. A friend.”

Aislin frowned, the tiny crease above her brows making her look so much like Jason that Arden again wanted to weep. “A boyfriend?”

Arden coughed. “No, honey.”

Aislin looked up then, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. “Because Samantha from day camp says when her dad and mom got divorced, her mom got a bunch of boyfriends right away. And you haven’t had any.”

Arden knew Samantha’s mom; had, in fact, gone to high school with her. Sherry Smith had had a lot of boyfriends in high school, too. “I didn’t get divorced from Daddy, honey. It’s a little different.”

“Samantha says her mom says she can’t stand to be without a man.”

Arden bit her lip. “Some women can’t, Aislin.”

“Can’t what?” This from Maeve, who’d barreled through the door with her typical sturdy gait.

“Not have a boyfriend,” said Aislin self-importantly.

“Is that so?” Bev, Arden’s stepmother, said as she followed Maeve. She gave Arden a look with raised brows.

Arden stood to give Bev a hug. “So says Samantha’s mom, anyway.”

“Mommy doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Maeve said, hand on her hip.

“No,” said Arden, catching Bev’s eye. “I don’t. Tell you what. Why don’t you girls run in the back and make sure I didn’t leave anything in the dressing rooms, okay?”

Arden wasn’t quite sure why Aislin and Maeve loved to play in the twin closets the shop used for changing rooms, but they headed off in a flash of giggles and trampling feet.

“That’ll take about ten minutes.” Bev stared after them fondly. She gave Arden a familiar penetrating look, the same one she’d used on nights of missed curfews and suspiciously mussed hair. “What’s up?”

“Aislin wanted to know what I was doing tonight,” Arden explained as she finished cleaning her workspace, crossed to the door and flipped the
Closed
sign so it showed through the glass. “I told her going out with a friend. She wanted to know if it was a boyfriend.”

“Ah.”

Arden realized all at once where she’d learned that simple one-word answer.

Bev looked over Arden’s shoulder to make sure they were still alone. “But you’re not.”

Arden shook her head. “No!”

Bev smiled. “Honey, it’s okay to go on a date. It’s been a long time. If you’re ready—”

Arden’s mother had run off to “find herself” when Arden was three. Arden’s dad had married Bev five years later. Though Bev was not the woman who’d borne her, she’d been Arden’s mother since childhood. She’d never known another mother and, while she and Bev had matured into a satisfyingly adult relationship over the years, there were still some things Arden was not about to discuss with her. Sex being one of them.

“It’s just another date,” she said quickly. “Not a boyfriend. I’m not ready for that.”

Bev gave her another long stare. “Arden, you know I lost my husband before I married your dad, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Bev’s first husband had been killed in a car accident.

“Do you know how old I was when that happened?”

She’d never thought about it. Though she’d never called her by the title, Bev had always been Mom, ageless, the same now as she’d been the first time she met her, only now with a few more gray hairs and wrinkles.

When she didn’t answer right away, Bev answered for her. “I was twenty-seven.”

“What?” Arden sputtered a moment. From the back room, giggles exploded into a few whining shouts, then died down again. “Wow. I didn’t know.”

Bev nodded. “Younger than you are now.”

Arden shook her head. “I guess I never thought of it.”

“I was thirty when I married your dad. Still younger than you are now. It might surprise you to learn your dad was not the first man I dated in those three years. He was just the last.” Bev smiled.

“How long did it take you to start dating again?”

Bev thought for only a second. “About six months.”

Again, Arden was surprised. “That seems—”

“I know. It seems like a short time. Well, Arden, I should tell you those first few dates had very little to do with my being ready to move on, or to find a new relationship. To put it bluntly, I was lonely, and I wanted companionship. Not love, necessarily.”

This was sounding a little too close to home. Arden busied herself with putting away her supplies before she looked up at Bev. “This was Lida’s idea.”

Bev rolled her eyes. “I guessed that.”

They shared a laugh.

“It’s just a date, Bev.”

“I know, honey.” Bev hugged her hard, then stepped back. “Just be careful, that’s all.”

Arden heard the patter of feet and nodded. “My girls are the most important thing in the world to me right now. You know that.”

It was Bev’s turn to look surprised. “I didn’t think otherwise. I was telling you to be careful about yourself, Arden. I know you’d never do anything that would harm the girls.”

Then they had no more time to talk because Aislin and Maeve had come back into the shop in a whirlwind of chatter, two long pieces of net draped around their heads like turbans, identical grins making it impossible for her to get irritated.

“Hugs and kisses.” Arden squeezed them both to her. “Have fun with Gran and Grampa.”

Bev winked. “We’ll have a great time. And you have a great time, too. Don’t worry about us. We’re going to stay up—”

“All night!” The girls chorused, giggling.

“All night,” Bev repeated with another eye roll and began to herd them out the door.

Arden stopped her. “Bev…thanks for everything. For keeping the girls…for everything.”

Bev reached out to push a piece of Arden’s hair behind her ear. “You’re welcome, honey. Believe me, it’s my pleasure. Have fun tonight.”

The shop seemed extremely empty after they’d gone, but Arden stayed only long enough to turn out the lights and lock the doors. Then she was out to the street, in her car and heading home to get ready for her big night.

Chapter Six

Philip was absolutely, positively gorgeous. Blond hair, bright blue eyes, smile as white as pure mountain snow. He was tall and fit, and a very snappy dresser. In short, he was everything Lida had promised and more.

Arden had underdressed in an ankle-length black skirt and a striped top, a cardigan thrown over her shoulders in case the restaurant’s air-conditioning was too high. She’d applied her makeup carefully and pulled her hair into a pretty braid, but still felt dowdy in comparison to the godlike man before her.

Philip didn’t seem to be put off at her non-goddess-level looks. He smiled and got up from the car he’d been leaning on. A dark blue Lexus—nice car, just like Lida had said. “Hi, Arden?”

She nodded and held out her hand, then almost pulled it back. Was it appropriate to shake hands with a man she was supposed to be propositioning? Philip took her fingers and gave them a squeeze. For one heart-stopping moment, Arden thought he meant to kiss her fingers. Relief flooded her when he didn’t.

“Should we go inside?”

She nodded, then cleared her throat. She didn’t want to come off like an idiot, but afraid of sounding overeager, she just said, “Okay.”

Philip held the door for her, pulled out her chair and opened her menu for her with aplomb. And he managed to do all of that without making her feel awkward. Bonus points for that, she thought, trying not to stare.

He was an easy man to get caught up in watching to the exclusion of all else. Kind of like looking at a perfect painting, like he was too pretty to be real. Arden blinked and forced herself to look down at the plate in front of her. A single, lonely dinner roll squatted on the plain white china. Tiny pats of butter shaped like roses tempted her to take one. By the time she’d buttered the roll, she was staring at him again.

“Lida tells me you’ve only been back in Annville for a couple of months.”

Arden nodded and washed down her miniscule bite of roll with a swig of iced tea. “Six months actually.”

“You have a shop? Bridal shop?”

“I’m a seamstress,” she explained. “My store’s right down the street. Across from the Allen Theater. I do bridal gowns, special occasion dresses, costumes for the Renaissance Faire. Stuff like that.”

He made an impressed face she didn’t assume was faked. Either he really was impressed, or he was very, very good. “You made the dresses in the window?”

“Yep. That was me.”

“Wow.” Philip chewed his own roll for a moment. “I’m in banking.”

Arden nodded, not sure of what to say. Small talk should be easier than this, especially with a man so smooth. And yet…despite his gorgeous good looks and pleasant personality, she was having a bit of difficulty relating to him. All she could think about was the possibility of being naked in front of him. It made blasé dinner conversation seem a bit purposeless.

The silence must have stretched on too long for his comfort because Philip leaned across the table to say in a low voice, “Lida told me about your husband. I’m sorry.”

She waved her hand to put him at ease. “Don’t be sorry.”

Philip’s handsome mouth frowned ever so slightly. “I know you’re just getting back on your feet, so to speak. I just wanted to let you know, there’s no pressure about tonight.”

Oh, brother.
Arden swallowed some more tea while she thought of what to say. His words were kind and nice and still made her feel like an idiot. Like the girl in high school who had to settle for her friend’s younger brother taking her to the Homecoming Dance.