“That’s a good thing, honey,” Nancy said. “Men don’t mature as fast as women, so it’s best to get them a few years older when they are easier to whip into shape.”
I chuckled at her reasoning, especially with a man like Hector, who I imagined wouldn’t let anyone other than himself decide what he did.
“Do you have any pictures of him?” Cora asked. “I wanna know what he looks like.”
“A picture cannot do that man justice,” Nancy chimed in. “Let me put it this way…That man will have asuccessful career as a romance novel cover model if his little ranger thing doesn’t work out.”
Cora barked out a laugh, and I smiled, picturing Hector hear that she described his job as a “little ranger thing.”
Nancy would know, though. She spent more than thirty years as a romance writer, and a bestseller at that. I’d read several of her novels, and they were fantastic.
“I mean it,” Nancy continued. “If I had knees that still worked, I’d be chasing him myself.”
I smiled at her comment, thinking back to where Hector and I had started and where we were now. I was hopeful about our date tomorrow and what would come after.
“Honey, your relationship life is your business,” Nancy said to me. “So, if you aren’t interested in him, that’s your choice. However, if you do decide to give that boy a chance, I’ll give you some of my books so you can casually leave them around your apartment so he can get some hints.”
She winked, and Cora chuckled even more.
“I’ve got a really steamy shower scene in one of them, so we will put that one at the top of the stack,” Nancy added, and I nearly spit out my drink.
“I don’t have a man, or any potential ones at that, but I wanna read that one just for fun,” Cora told her.
“I’ll get you your own copy before you leave, dear,” Nancy said, pointing at her.
We stayed and chatted with her for another hour, andshe made me promise to ask Hector if he would come over for card night one night just so she could show him off to all her other friends.
I made no promises that he would actually come—because I highly doubted he would—but told her I would try.
“Here, take some cake with you,” Nancy said, grabbing some slices from her counter. “Don’t worry, ladies. This cake only goes straight to your boobs.”
I laughed as Cora reached for the cake. “Iris already has big boobs, so I’ll just eat both of them.”
We said goodnight and made our way back to my place.
“Change of plans,” Cora said as we walked into my living room. “Let’s just get our pajamas on and lie in your bed while you give me all the other details about Hector that you wouldn’t say in front of Nancy but that I could see written all over your face.”
She eyed me, giving me a knowing look.
My lip twitched. We may not be blood related, but she knew me so well. Growing up, I had been closest to Anna since we shared a room together and had moved into the O’Haras’ house around the same time. But in the last two years, I had gotten closer to Cora since we lived the closest and her work often allowed her to work side-by-side with me.
Hydrology and meteorology were very closely related, plus we both worked careers where the job didn’t stop just because it was a Saturday or Sunday. In fact, MotherNature often enjoyed throwing massive storms at us on a weekend or holiday. That meant that I would sometimes get called in to help out, even though I didn’t usually work those days.
Despite still being very full, Nancy made amazing cake that should only be eaten while fresh—which was why we decided to eat it in my bed with our stretchy pajama pants on.
“Alright,” she mumbled with a mouthful of cake. “Give me the low-down on Hector. You get two to three lines max to describe him and tell me how you feel about him. Then I get to ask more questions.”
Only two to three lines? How the heck was I supposed to do that?
“His nickname should be Grumpy McSexypants,” I tried to explain as Cora snorted. “He’s really tall and handsome, and his smile does things to my ovaries that science can’t explain.”
She laughed. “Okay, oddly, I like him even more after that very colorful description.”
“He also loves my body and told me I was his dream woman,” I confessed quietly.
She gazed over at me, and her face softened. She understood how much that meant to me.
I loved my body and how I looked and had no problem ignoring people who felt otherwise about my shape—but I hadn’t always felt that way. Kids, and even adults, could be cruel—and they were. It was bad enough growing up in a household where love and encouragement were notgiven freely. Then, moving into foster care meant a new school and new kids. And all of this happened during my pre-teen and teen years—years when your body changed rapidly and kids were at their peak for cruelty.
