She eyed me for a very long time, probably warring with herself. If she said she was offended by the question, she’d be saying she wasn’t possibly old enough to be a grandparent. But the fact is, any of us here, if we got started young, are old enough.
So she pointed at a different box.Has owned a motorcycle before.“You’re welcome,” she purred, brushing my arm as she strode proudly away.
I glance over at Kirsten again. Now Liam’s over there, too. And why the crud is Luke getting so close? Jeez, in her space much, buddy?
A quick glance at my page says I need just one more to get a Bingo; not a total blackout or anything, but enough to cross off one diagonal row, which means a prize when this is all said and done. And as luck would have it, it’s got Kirsten’s name written all over it.Is a Soccer mom.Chantel said we shouldn’t use the same person for more than one square, but that probably didn’t include the blank one.
“Hi,” a woman standing close by says. “I’m Annica.”
“Hey,” I say. She’s cute. Shiny black hair, a soft smile, and a nose that summons the wordbutton. “I’m Beau. How you doing on your sheet there?”
She bats her lashes. “Well, that’s actually why I addressed you. I’m guessing I could cross this one off the list with you?” She rests the tip of her pen next to thefrequents the gymsquare.
I extend my arms, feign a yawn, and make fists while flexing both biceps. “Why, yes. You’ve come to the right place.”
“Oh, and lucky you,” she says. “Because I’m one of the only people in here who can cross this one off your list.” She points at thenever been marriedsquare.
“You’re kidding. Never?”
Annica shakes her head. “Never ever.”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t look at me like I’m broken,” she warns playfully. “I happen to be very career-oriented.”
I feel caught, so I put my hands out in surrender mode. “Hey, nothing wrong with that.” And then my eyes do what I’ve been telling themnotto do since Annica approached me. They look right over at my doofus twin brothers, who are still talking to Kirsten.
The sound of her laughter hits me like a drug, going straight to a deep, penetrating place. Why is that? I barely know her. I’ve never been attracted to her. Except, I’d never say shewasn’tattractive. Just…a different type than what I’ve gone for.
But what is my type now? I’m older. Wiser. And surprisingly not terribly attracted to Jessica Rabbit like my twenty-year-old self would have been.
My eyes trace the length of Kirsten’s ivory-like neck, the length of her exposed collarbones, the delicate hollow of her throat. She holds herself well. Better than I realized. Or maybe this is a new her. A less anxious, more confident her.
“Well,” Annica says. “See you at the next one maybe? Or did this one scare you away for good?”
I clear my throat and shift my gaze back to the brunette before me. “Did this one scare me away?” I repeat so I can process the words. “No, of course not. Maybe.”
She laughs. “I hope not.” With that, the woman trails her fingers gently up my wrist, catches my gaze, and then walks away. Annica is interesting and beautiful. She doesn’t have an ex-husband to deal with, which is also a plus. Heck, I decide as I glance down at my list once again, thinking back on each woman I met. There are a lot of great women here.
My eyes dart straight to the box I filled in myself, taking the chance to tease Kirsten about her moment at the campsite. She’s like the dark horse I didn’t see coming. The one you discount until they break away from the pack and come into their own. Is it possible I’m really getting feelings for her, or am I just in my head?
At that moment, Kirsten glances over and catches me looking at her. Since I’m already busted, I hold her gaze, searching, testing, dissecting. Is there something here?
Another round of heat stirs low in my belly as she holds my gaze. And heaven help me, but I’m almost certain she’s wondering the same thing.
CHAPTER17
October
Kirsten
I stare at the heap of clothes I removed from my closet and shake my head.
“Wow,” Maggie says, “who knew you had hoarder tendencies.”
“I do not have hoarder tendencies,” I defend, nearly shocked when I look back at my nearly empty closet. Now, it’s not just Greg’s side that’s vacant. Most of my shelf area is bare, too, save a few blouses, tees, and pants I decided to keep.
Maggie clears her throat, causing me to glance over. She holds an old concert tee up to her. It’s my Dashboard Confessional tee-shirt.
