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Lost and Found Husband
Sheri WhiteFeather
Lost and Found Husband For waitress Dana Peterson, it’s now or never. For a year, she’s flirted with regular customer Erik Reeves. Who cares if he’s a little older? He’s yummy! So she takes the plunge and asks him out – on Valentine’s Day!Against his better judgement, Erik lets this ray of sunshine into his life. But things quickly spin out of control and now Dana’s pregnant. Erik will do the right thing and marry her.But Dana won’t accept anything less than his heart and the love that she truly deserves.


Love’s on the menu in this installment of Sheri WhiteFeather’s Family Renewal miniseries!
For waitress Dana Peterson, it’s now or never. For a year, she’s flirted with her regular diner customer, widower Erik Reeves. Who cares if he’s a little older? He’s yummy! So she takes the plunge and asks him out—on Valentine’s Day, no less.
Against his better judgment, Erik lets this ray of sunshine into his life. But things quickly spin out of control and now Dana’s pregnant. Erik will do the right thing and marry her. But can he retrieve his heart from the lost and found to give this feisty beauty the love she truly deserves?

“Taste the pie. It’s guaranteed to make you smile.”
Erik did as he was told. Stupid as it was, he liked having her nearby, tempting him to take a mouthful of the forbidden fruit. Á la mode was an added bonus.
Sure enough, it made him smile. “You win.”
“I always do. You know what would be great? For us to go out and play together. There’s a gallery opening tomorrow night that I really want to see. You can take me to it, if you’re free.”
He looked at her as if she’d flipped her lovely little lid. Her suggestion sounded suspiciously like a date. “You don’t need an older guy like me taking you anywhere.”
“You’re not old. You’re yummy.”
Yummy? His heart beat hard in his chest. Bang.Bang. Bang. Like shots from a gun. His daughter wanted him to start dating again. But he doubted that she had someone like Dana in mind.
“Say yes, Eric.”
Dear Reader,
Have you ever wondered how books are titled? Who comes up with the name and how it’s decided upon? Mostly it’s up to the author to make suggestions, then it goes to editorial, where they either chose a title from the list the author submitted or make new suggestions, based on the marketing of the book.
Thinking up titles has always been a challenge for me. I never seem to have just the right one floating around in my head. I appreciate that it’s not solely up to me. Some of my favorite titles were created by editors or marketing executives.
But I have to say, Lost and Found Husband came naturally to me for this book. I titled the first book in my Family Renewal duet Lost and Found Father because the hero in that story had given up his baby daughter for adoption and was being reunited with her eighteen years later. In this book, the hero (who is that child’s adoptive parent) was once a happy and well-adjusted husband who’d tragically lost his wife. Now he is in a position to be a husband all over again, to start fresh, to regain the joy that he’d lost, only with someone new.
So…I give you Lost and Found Husband, a book with an emotionally wounded hero and the lovely young woman who helps him find his way back home.
Hugs and Happily Ever After,
Sheri WhiteFeather
Lost and Found Husband
Sheri WhiteFeather


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
SHERI WHITEFEATHER is a bestselling author who has won numerous awards, including readers’ and reviewers’ choice honors. She writes a variety of romance novels for Mills & Boon. She has become known for incorporating Native American elements into her stories. She has two grown children who are tribally enrolled members of the Muscogee Creek Nation.
Sheri is of Italian-American descent. Her great-grandparents immigrated to the United States from Italy through Ellis Island, originating from Castel di Sangro and Sicily. She lives in California and enjoys ethnic dining, shopping in vintage stores and going to art galleries and museums. Sheri loves to hear from her readers. Visit her website at www.sheriwhitefeather.com.
Contents
Chapter One (#u20a2d558-4698-525c-bcce-5ff98f5064b9)
Chapter Two (#uf6b97a05-99d0-5578-b507-609e264b63df)
Chapter Three (#ua2eb69fe-409d-54b2-973f-2fad8fa45d45)
Chapter Four (#u405e01cf-8108-5c7f-b5a9-2bec82b1c0d5)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Eric Reeves was dining in an eatery near his Southern California home, watching Dana Peterson, the bubbly blonde waitress, bring food to another table. His dinner, meat loaf and mashed potatoes, was only half-eaten.
He kept his gaze trained on Dana. With her bold pink uniform and her nicely curved figure, she was a sight to behold. They weren’t friends, per se, but they’d built a friendly rapport through snippets of server-customer conversation. Eric ate here often.
When his wife was alive, he used to eat at home. Back then, everything had been wonderfully normal. But he’d lost Corrine seven years ago, and it had become a long and lonely road since then.
Dana whizzed past him on her way to the kitchen and smiled, her ponytail swishing. She was a twenty-six-year-old working her way through community college and enjoying the wherever-it-took-her experience. Eric was forty-two with a grounded job and a grown daughter. He and Dana didn’t have much in common, except that his daughter was a college student, too.
By the time he finished his meal, Dana returned to his table. She shot him another of her upbeat smiles. Today she was wearing a purple iris fastened behind her ear. She always wore a flower of some sort. Sometimes they were artificial flowers in trendy hair clips, like the aforementioned iris, and sometimes they were real.
A while back, she’d given him one of the real McCoys when he’d revealed that he was widowed. She had always pegged him for divorced, and to make up for her error, she’d removed the flower she wore that day, a velvety red rose, and placed it gently in his hand. Later, he’d gone to Corrine’s grave and left it for her. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten used to talking to his dead wife. He’d even explained where the rose had come from, telling her about the warm-hearted waitress who’d bestowed it upon him.
“Can I get you anything else?” Dana asked.
He shook his head.
“You sure? The apple pie is fresh.”
He thought she was fresh, too, light and springy—a modern bohemian, as she called herself, who’d yet to decide on a college major.
“Cherry is my favorite,” he said.
“We don’t have any cherry. But I promise the apple is delish.”
He met her gaze. She had the bluest eyes and the blondest, most naturally golden hair. Everything about her shimmered.
She cocked her head. “What do you say? A la mode?”
He shifted his focus. Pie and ice cream. “Sure, okay.”
“Coffee, too?”
“Yes.”
Off she went: pink uniform, purple flower and Gidget ponytail. Eric found himself watching her again. He enjoyed looking at her. He enjoyed it far too much.
He was frowning when she delivered his coffee and dessert.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
You, he thought. He didn’t want to be attracted to a woman who was closer to his daughter’s age than his own.
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Taste the pie.” She waggled her fingers. “It’s guaranteed to make you smile.”
He did as he was told. Stupid as it was, he liked having her nearby, tempting him to take a mouthful of the forbidden fruit. The a la mode was an added bonus.
Sure enough, it made him smile. “You win.”
“I always do. You know what would be great? There’s a gallery opening tomorrow night that I really want to see. You can take me to it, if you’re free.”
He looked at her as if she’d flipped her lovely little lid. Her suggestion sounded suspiciously like a date. “You don’t need an older guy like me taking you anywhere.”
“You’re not old. You’re barely into your forties. Besides, you’re yummy.”
Yummy? His heart hit his chest. Bang. Bang. Bang. Like shots from a gun. His daughter wanted him to start dating again. But he doubted that she had someone like Dana in mind.
“Say yes, Eric.”
He didn’t utter a word. Instead he took a second bite, but the diversion didn’t work. The gooey sweetness made him want to tug her onto his lap and kiss her hard and fast. To curb his appetite, he swigged his coffee.
She persisted. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Besides, you’re an artist. You’ll be the perfect companion for a gallery opening.”
He downplayed his profession. “I’m an art teacher at a middle school.”
“You’re still an artist. How about this? I’ll give you my number, and you can call and let me know.”
She zoomed off to tend to other customers, and he ate the devil out of his pie.
A short while later she returned with his check and her number, written on a scrap of paper. Eric tucked it into his pocket. He had no idea what he was going to do, but at least he had a day to think about it.
“I hope I see you tomorrow,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder.
He wished that she hadn’t touched him. The kiss he’d longed for came tumbling back. “I just don’t know.” He gazed at her mouth.
She moistened her lips. “You’ll figure it out.”
Would he? She was the first woman he’d desired since Corrine had died. He didn’t know what that said about his libido, considering Dana’s carefree attitude and age. “I’ve been out of the loop since my wife passed.”
“Ours will be just a casual date.”
“That doesn’t change the age difference between us.”
“It isn’t that big of a difference.”
It was to him. Even as attracted as he was to Dana, he’d never considered dating a twentysomething. “I’ll call you and let you know either way.”
“Okay. Thanks. I better get back to work now.” She touched his shoulder again, rubbing it a little this time.
His stomach flip-flopped.
After she was gone, he paid with cash and left her a generous tip. On his way to the door, he turned around and looked for her, seeking her attention from across the diner.
She caught his gaze and flashed a don’t-forget-to-call-me smile.
As if forgetting about her was actually possible.
* * *
After work Dana went home, excited about the possibility of going out with Eric. Even if he chose not to date her, she would still be proud of herself for putting it out there. She’d had a crush on him since she’d first met him, which was when she’d started working at the diner, almost a year ago. A year was a record for her. Not just to hold a crush for that long, but to stay at the same job. She liked to mix things up.
And boy had she done that today. She’d finally mustered the courage to ask Eric out. She’d been thinking about it for what seemed like forever and now that Valentine’s Day was around the corner, she figured this was the time to do it. Plus, when she’d heard about the gallery opening, she knew she’d found the perfect event to invite him to attend with her.
He was such an intriguing mystery, a man she wanted to get to know. She especially liked to see him smile. He had a great smile that he didn’t use nearly often enough.
She went into her bedroom to change. She lived in the most adorable guest house that she’d found on Craigslist. Her side of the yard, which had a white picket fence, hosted an English-style garden and a naked-cherub fountain. The cherub amused her because he was one of those mischievous little angels that appeared to be peeing in the water. Everything about the place was perfect. She even had an awesome landlord who owned the property and lived in the front house. In fact, she and Candy McCall were becoming the best of friends. Prior to living here, Dana had been in an apartment crowded with roommates.
She tossed her uniform on a chair and climbed into a ragged T-shirt and comfy jeans. She was anxious to talk to Candy about Eric.
Dana ventured outside. The weather was lovely on this February evening. As she passed the cherub, she smiled.
After crossing her flower-filled yard, she entered through the gate that led to Candy’s equally colorful residence.
She approached the back door and called out through the screen. “Hey, you! Can I pop in for a minute? I have some news.”
“Of course” was the reply. “Get your butt in here.”
Dana happily entered. Candy was in her cluttered kitchen, preparing what most people would assume were regular cookies, but Dana knew they were homemade dog treats that had just come out of the oven. Candy was a yoga instructor who also taught classes in doga: yoga for dogs. On top of that, she was a strikingly beautiful, long-legged brunette who ate a strict vegetarian diet, burned luscious-smelling candles and spoke evasively about her failed marriage.
“Where’s Yogi?” Dana asked, inquiring about Candy’s yellow lab and the queen of doga.
“Napping. So what’s your news?”
“I asked him to take me on a date.”
“Him? Your hottie customer?”
Dana nodded. “I even told him that he was yummy.” She relayed her conversation with Eric. “I’m going to plan my wardrobe for tomorrow night, just in case.”
“Good idea. Send it into the universe and make it happen.”
“The hippy-dippy way?”
“Yep.”
They laughed. Hippy-dippy was a phrase Dana’s mom used to describe her free-spirited lifestyle. Mom was much more conservative, aside from the wild one-nighter she’d had with Dana’s elusive dad.
Candy turned serious. “When did Eric’s wife pass away?”
“Seven years ago.”
“And he hasn’t dated since?”
“That’s the impression I got. He said he’s been out of the loop since then.”
“Does he have any kids?”
“A daughter. She’s a business major at UCLA, with a minor in women’s studies.”
“She sounds interesting. Have you ever met her?”
“No. He’s never brought her to the diner. He’s never even told me her name. But he speaks highly of her.”
“What else do you know about him?”
“Besides him being a widowed art teacher with an eighteen-year-old daughter? Nothing, except that I want to go out with him and make him smile.”
“This isn’t a fixer-upper project, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“He sounds a bit broken, and you’re drawn to troubled people, Dana.”
“You’re not troubled.” She amended her statement. “Well, maybe you are, but that’s not why I’m friends with you.”
Naturally, Candy didn’t remark on her state of mind. They both knew that she’d yet to make peace with her divorce.
Instead she asked, “Did Eric ever tell you how his wife died?”
“She had cancer. But he never said what kind or how long her battle lasted. He only mentioned it briefly.”
“How badly do you think he misses her?”
“I don’t know, but I can tell that he’s still struggling to get over her loss.”
“Does that concern you?”
“Actually, I think it’s nice that he loved her so much. What kind of man would he be if he’d never loved his wife?”
“Not a very good one,” Candy replied, a tad too uncomfortably.
Dana studied her friend. Was that a reference to her ex? If it was, Candy wasn’t saying anything else. And Dana didn’t push her. Instead she said about Eric, “I really hope he agrees to go out with me.”
“What happened to your plan-your-wardrobe-for-tomorrow-night confidence?”
“I guess I’m getting a little nervous that he’ll decline the offer. But I’m still picking out something to wear. My crush on him isn’t going away anytime soon.”
Yogi came into the kitchen and yawned. Apparently she was up from her nap. Dana patted her head. “Hey, sweetie.” The dog wagged her tail and sniffed the canine-cookie air.
“Do you think Eric is a dog person or a cat person?” Candy asked.
“Hmm. Good question. I’d venture to guess cats.” He had a catlike quality about him, warm but still somehow aloof. “You should see him. Tall and dark and chiseled. He’s half Cherokee.”
“How do you know what his heritage is?”
“He wore a Native Pride T-shirt once, and I asked him about it.”
“So that’s one more thing you know about him.”
Dana nodded. “It isn’t much, is it? For a whole year? But I haven’t told him everything about myself, either. Mostly I just refill his water more than I should as an excuse to keep returning to his table.”
“I’ll bet he appreciates you doting on him.”
“He certainly watches me a lot. I can always feel those dark eyes roving over me whenever I walk away.”
“Sounds like a mutual crush.”
“You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about him while I was in bed, moaning like a tart.” For the sake of drama, she pulled a vintage Meg Ryan and demonstrated the noises she made.
Candy laughed. “Are you going to tell him that?”
She laughed, too. “Sure? Why not? I’ve been known to say what’s on my mind.” And these days Eric took up a lot of room in her mind. “I’m going to go dig through my closet now.” She wanted to choose an ensemble that would please him. Maybe even something that showed off a bawdy bit of cleavage.
’Cause life was too important to waste.
* * *
Eric couldn’t do it. He couldn’t date someone as young as Dana. Hell, he couldn’t date anyone at all. He wasn’t ready, not even for something casual. Keeping to himself was easier.
He picked up his cell phone, intending to call Dana and decline her offer, but he dialed his daughter, Kaley, instead, needing to hear her voice.
She’d chosen to live in a dorm, even though her campus was fairly close to home. Eric supported her decision. He wanted his daughter to spread her wings, to find her independence, to enjoy her youth. But damn, he missed seeing her every day. Of course, she still came by on weekends sometimes. But between her studies and her social life, those weekend visits were becoming less frequent.
“Hi, Dad,” she said, by way of a phone greeting.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Getting ready to go out. I’m going to a Valentine-themed party with my girlfriends. There’s another one tomorrow night, too. Both of them are for singles only. How great is that?”
Valentine’s Day was on Monday. It was a holiday he no longer celebrated, but apparently Kaley and her crowd were intent on enjoying it. He feigned an upbeat tone. “Sounds fun.” It also sounded as if she wasn’t going to be home any time this weekend.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He almost said, “Nothing,” but he didn’t want her to feel bad for him, so he replied, “I was invited to a gallery opening tomorrow.”
“Really? Are you going to go?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t decided.” That was better than admitting the truth.
Kaley didn’t ask who invited him. She probably thought it was one of his old artist friends. He wouldn’t have told her who it was, anyway, so he was glad that she hadn’t asked.
“You should see me, Dad. I’m wearing this cheesy pink gown.” She laughed. “And a tiara. The party tonight is dress-up.”
He smiled. She used to love wearing princess getups when she was a kid. “Take a picture and send it.”
“I will, as soon as I get my lipstick on.”
“Pink, I presume.”
“What else?” She made a silly kissing sound. “I love you, Daddy. Have fun at the gallery opening tomorrow.”
“I didn’t say I was going.”
“Well, you should. It’s just your sort of thing.”
He sidestepped her encouragement. “I love you, too, kissy Kaley. Be good.”
“Okay. Talk to you later.”
They said goodbye and as he ended the call, a big jolt of emptiness consumed his heart. But that didn’t stop him from dialing Dana to decline her offer.
“Hello?” She answered in an eager tone. Hoping, perhaps, that it was him on the other end?
“Hi. It’s Eric.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you called, especially now. I’ve been trying on clothes for our date, just in case you say yes. I want to look amazing and blow you away.”
Eric winced. She was too young and sweet for the likes of him. “I just talked to my daughter. She said that she was wearing a pink gown and a tiara to a Valentine-themed party. She’s supposed to send me a picture.”
“How fun. I’ll bet she’s going to have a great time. The gallery opening is Valentine art.”
“I’m not going to go, Dana.”
“Come on. Don’t bail on me. Please. I really want to have a nice evening with you.”
“I’m just not up for it.”
A smile sounded in her voice. “How about if I send you a picture of what I’m going to wear?”
In spite of himself, he laughed. “I’d rather be surprised.”
“Does that mean you’re going to go?”
Did it? He glanced at the photos on the fireplace mantel, particularly the one from his wedding. Corrine had been an incredibly beautiful bride with her traditional white dress and misty veil. They’d gotten married at the beach. She’d always loved the sand and the surf. He did, too.
“You’re confusing me,” he said.
“Confusing you into having some fun?”
Just confusing him in general. “What gallery is it?”
“It’s a new one near the beach.”
He glanced at the portrait again. “Which beach?”
“Santa Monica.”
Eric’s stomach clenched. The same one where he’d said his vows. Was this a cosmic joke? “Dana—”
“Please.” She persisted again. “Just give me a chance. One date. One kiss afterward.”
A kiss? Now that was all he was going to be thinking about. He’d already been thinking about it at the diner, too. Could she tell? Did she know? Had he been that obvious? “You don’t play fair.”
“A little romance never hurt anyone.”
Romance had hurt him plenty. In the picture, he was standing barefoot on the shore in his tux, with his pant legs rolled up past his ankles, holding his new bride in his arms. He remembered scooping her up and making her squeal.
Dana said, “I really want to kiss you.”
He wanted to kiss her, too. He wanted to put his mouth against hers and forget how lonely he was. “This is dangerous.”
“It’s a date, Eric.”
“And a kiss,” he reminded her.
“Just one at the door,” she reminded him. She wasn’t offering a night of unbridled passion.
Nor was he expecting anything like that. But maybe it was time for him to get back into the casual dating pool. Besides, Dana was about as sweet as they came. He couldn’t ask for a nicer person to spend a few hours with. “Okay.” He held his breath. One date. One good-night kiss. Plus Valentine art in Santa Monica. He prayed he could handle it. “I’ll go out with you.”
Her voice beamed. “You won’t regret it. We’re going to have a wonderful time. I’m so excited. Here, let me give you my address.”
“I have to get a pen and paper.” He went into the kitchen, away from the photo.
“Ready?”
“Sure. Go ahead.” She rattled off her address and he wrote it down.
“It’s the house in the back,” she said. “You have to go through a side gate to get to it. But you’ll see it when you get there.”
“What time should I pick you up?”
“How about seven-thirty? The reception is from eight to ten.”
“Okay.” He was already nervous.
“My landlord will probably peer out her window to get a look at you.”
“Is she a nosy old lady?”
“No.” Dana laughed her lilting laugh. “She’s young and beautiful, and I told her all about how yummy you are.”
“Gee, thanks.” More nerves. More of everything. “Nothing like putting a guy on the spot.”
“You’ll do fine. By the way, did you mention me to your daughter when you spoke to her earlier?”
“I told her that someone invited me to a gallery opening, but I didn’t let on that it was a woman.”
“Much less a twenty-six-year-old? Would you have told her about me if I was your age?”
“Probably not. I’m not comfortable talking about my personal life to my child, even if she sometimes pesters me about it.”
“Pesters you how?”
“She wants me to start dating.”
“What a bright kid. What’s her name?”
“Kaley.”
“Really? Did you know that Kaley means ‘party animal’ in the Urban Dictionary? Kaley is the name to have these days. It depicts the coolest girl ever.”
“Then I guess we did her proud. Because she is the coolest girl ever.”
“You’re cool, too.”
He shook his head. “Are you kidding? I feel like I’m in high school all over again.”
“Because of me?”
“Yes. Because of you.”
“So I make you feel young? That’s good, isn’t it?”
“I was a dork in high school.”
She laughed. “Somehow I don’t see you as ever being a dork.”
“Believe me, I was.”
“I’m surprised you can remember back that far.”
He cracked a smile. “Smarty.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you, too.”
“I’m going to wow you with my outfit.”
He would probably be predictable, in jeans and a sports coat. “Bye, Dana.”
“Bye, handsome.”
They hung up, and he marveled at how easily she flirted. He’d never met anyone like her.
He checked his emails on his phone to see if his cool kid had sent the picture. She had, and the image was funny and cute, with his daughter making a duck face. Her sparkly pink gown was atrocious. The tiara was tacky, too. But that was the point, he supposed.
He thought about Dana, wondering just how she planned to wow him. Tomorrow night was going to be a long wait.
Especially with that kiss looming in his mind.
Chapter Two
Eric drove to Dana’s place and parked at the curb. She lived in a cozy, tree-lined neighborhood. The bungalow house in front boasted 1930s appeal with a sloping roof, a stucco exterior and a stone walkway. He assumed that was where her landlord lived. He didn’t see anyone peering out from behind the lacy curtains, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t being watched.
He picked up her gift from the passenger’s seat and got out of the car. He’d stopped by the florist and gotten Dana an orchid because of her obvious love of flowers. But suddenly he’d realized he’d made a mistake. Not necessarily for Dana, but for himself. Corrine’s wedding bouquet had been made up of the same type of orchids.
How could he have overlooked that? Eric scowled. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe it was deliberate. As to why, he couldn’t be sure. But it didn’t sit well with him.
He headed for the side gate Dana had mentioned and opened the latch. Her yard was an explosion of greenery and festive blooms. Her tiny house sat amid the garden, which also contained a three-tiered fountain.
He knocked on her door. She answered and sent his libido into a tailspin.
She had the wow factor.
She’d donned a white dress with a bold red print. The slim-fitting garment hugged her in all the right places and was just low enough in front for him to see how bountiful her breasts were. Her shoes, a pair of flesh-colored heels, added about three inches to her height, elongating her already shapely legs. But what really enticed him was her hair. He’d never seen it loose, and tonight it tumbled around her shoulders in a mass of golden waves, making him itch to touch it.
Her makeup was stunning, as well, her eyes lined in a manner that reminded of him of an old-time movie star. Her lips were painted the same shade as the print on the dress, which he now realized were red dahlias. Instead of wearing a flower in her hair, she was wearing them on her dress.
“You look incredible,” he said.
“Thank you.” She spun around and showed him every curve. “I primped for hours.”
“It paid off.”
“Is that for me?” she asked.
The accidental orchid. “Yes.” He handed it to her.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” She hugged it to her chest, much too close to her heart. “Come in, Eric.”
As he entered her home, she put the potted plant on the windowsill, where a host of herbs created a fragrant mixture. Everything in her young vibrant world was tuned to the senses. A mosaic-topped café dining table was paired with mismatched chairs, and a mint-green loveseat that served as her sofa was bursting with tassel-trimmed pillows. A wooden coat rack held a collection of fringed shawls, and glass lamps were draped with feminine scarves.
“You have flair,” he said. “This is like an antique gypsy cart.” Gypsy included, he thought.
“Oh, thank you. I always thought it would be exciting to be an artist, but I don’t have any talent in that regard. So I try to make up for it by keeping artistic things around me.”
Did she keep artistic men around her, too? Was that part of her attraction to him? By most creative standards, Eric was on the conservative side. But he still fit the bill, he supposed, with his art-teacher vibe.
“You could be an interior designer,” he told her.
“Really? Do you think so? That’s something to consider. I’m torn about what to be when I grow up.” She flashed her twentysomething smile. “If I ever do grow up.”
“Being grown-up is overrated.” Nonetheless, he was as grownup as it got. “Are you ready to head out?”
“Sure. Just let me get my wrap.” She removed one of the shawls from the coat rack. They weren’t just for show.
Before they exited her yard, she led him to the fountain. “Isn’t he adorable? He’s one of the reasons I want to see the Valentine art show. I love angels, and cherubs are my favorite.”
He studied the statue in question. “People often mix cherubs up with putti. Unless you know the origins of the art, sometimes it can be difficult to tell.”
She made a face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Putti is plural for putto. They’re childlike male figures, predominantly nude, and sometimes with wings.”
“So what’s the difference?”
“Cherubs appear in a religious context and are angels, whereas the genesis of putti is mythical or secular, like Cupid.”
“So what is Tinkle?”
“Tinkle?”
She gestured to the fountain, and he smiled. She’d named the little guy after his antics. “I’d say he’s a putto. They’re prone to naughty deeds.”
Dana laughed. “And here all this time I thought he was a misbehaving angel.”
Eric laughed, too. “I’m sure we’ll see plenty of cherubs at the gallery. And putti, too.”
“It will be fun trying to tell the difference. We can make a guessing game out of it.”
They walked to his car, and he opened the passenger side and watched her slide onto the seat. She was fluid and graceful, and he was still hoping that he could handle their date.
He got behind the wheel, and she gave him the address of the gallery. He typed it into the navigation system and drove into the night.
They barely spoke on the way. Mostly they listened to the female computer voice giving directions.
Finally Dana said, “I don’t have one of those. I just take the chance of getting lost. Besides, sometimes you end up in interesting places when you go the wrong way.”
“Do you have a bad sense of direction?”
“The worst.” She grinned like an imp. “That part of my brain never developed, I guess. But we all have something not quite right about us.”
His “not quite right” was his attraction to her. She didn’t make sense in his organized world. She was too young, too free, too far from his norm.
They arrived at their destination, and he drove around to find a parking space.
“I love this area,” Dana said.
Eric kept quiet. He used to love it, too. The oceanfront hotel that hosted his wedding was nearby.
He nabbed a parking spot, and they walked a block or so to the gallery.
They entered the reception area, where food and drink were being served. But they didn’t make a beeline for the buffet. To do so would have been tacky and insulting to the artist, or, in this case, the group of artists being showcased. Eric did opt for the bar, though. He needed a drink. Dana accepted a glass of wine, as well.
Together, they wandered around. The Valentine theme played out in different ways. Some pieces were warm and whimsical, others deep and epic. One spicy collection presented a sensual tone, whereas another was tragic.
The tragic art impacted Eric the most. Love found, love lost. He was morosely drawn to it.
Dana stood beside him as they gazed at a painting of a man reaching toward the sky, where a woman was fading away from him. The emotion it evoked hit him square in the gut.
“Have you ever been in love?” he asked her.
“No, but I hope to fall madly in love someday. It must be an incredible feeling.”
“It is.”
As he continued to study the piece, she studied him. He could feel her blue eyes burning into his soul.
“I’m sorry if this is difficult for you,” she said softly.
He denied his pain. “I’m fine.” He turned away from the painting. “Do you want to sample the buffet now?”
“Sure. That sounds good. But afterward, I’d like to go through the other parts of the exhibit again.”
The other parts. The non-tragic works. “And play a cherub/putto guessing game?” They hadn’t done that yet. There had been too much to look at, too much to take in, especially with Eric spending so much time on the sad images.
“Yes, I want to see the cherubs and putti again, but I want to take a closer look at the sexy artwork, too.” She flashed her scarlet-lipstick smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see that sort of thing included in the show.”
Her mouth looked downright lush. To keep his brain from fogging, he tried to say something intelligent. “Sex is an important aspect of love.”
“And sometimes sex is just sex. That’s the only kind I’ve known. Not that I’m an authority on the subject or anything. I’ve only had a couple of boyfriends. Men I liked, but didn’t love, obviously.”
“I used to have uncommitted sex before I met Corrine. I barely remember those affairs now. But it was ages ago.”
“Time slips by.”
“Yes, it does.”
He led Dana to the buffet, and they put appetizers on their plate. He tried not to watch her eat. But it was impossible not to be fascinated by her mouth. The kiss they’d promised to exchange was still imbedded in his mind.
She nibbled on an array of fruit. As his attraction to her heightened, he said, “You could be an artist’s muse, looking the way you look tonight.”
“Thank you. I think it’s the nicest compliment a man has ever paid me.”
“Young and nubile, as they used to say.”
“You better stop talking like that or you’re going to turn me into a seductress.”
She was already a seductress, tempting him with her beauty and flair. He swigged his drink, doing his damnedest to cool off. They finished their food and wandered the gallery once more. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing the sensual art again, not with the way she was affecting him.
The cherubs and putti were first, and he forced himself to play their game, comparing two illustrations that hung side by side. “So, which is which?”
“That’s a cherub,” she replied, about a heavenly-looking little guy. “And those are putti,” she added, referring to the other drawing, where mischief ran amuck.
“How about that one?” He gestured to a painting that wasn’t as easy to define.
She gazed at it for a while. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Truthfully, I don’t, either. Sometimes it’s tough to know what the artist is trying to convey.”
They moved onto the sensual art, where lust reigned supreme.
Dana approached an alluring picture. “Look how beautiful it is.”
Eric was looking. He wished he wasn’t, though. The image was a photograph of a bewitching redhead reclining on a satin-draped bed with her hair coiled around the pillow and shaped into a heart. A tall, leanly muscled man tossed red dahlias onto the bed, only he was in shadow, his presence adding an air of mystery.
“I think she’s dreaming about him,” Dana said. “And that he’s not really there.”
Eric could see why Dana was attracted to this piece, especially with the inclusion of the dahlias. It made him want to kiss her, here and now, but it was neither the time nor the place, not when they’d agreed on a good-night kiss at her door.
He said, “The flowers are the same as what’s on your dress.”
“I noticed that, too. I can imagine being her, lying in bed, thinking about my lover. If I had a lover,” she amended.
To keep from envisioning her in the same pose as the model, he asked, “Why do you wear flowers in your hair at work?”
“They make me feel happy, bright and pretty. I always wear them at my right ear because I read somewhere that it means a woman is available. Once I switch to my left ear, it will mean I’m taken.”
“Remember the rose you gave me on the day I told you that I was a widower?”
She nodded.
“I took it to Corrine’s grave. I try to bring her flowers when I can. It’s weird, though, because I’ve probably given her more flowers in death than I gave her in life.”
“I’ve never been to a funeral or a cemetery or anything like that. No one close to me has ever died.”
He’d seen more than his share of death. “You’re lucky.”
“I’m lucky to be on this date, too. And I love that you brought me an orchid.”
“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I think it’s only fair to say it. Corrine’s bridal bouquet had orchids in it. But I’m not sure if I chose it for that reason or it was subconscious.”
“You said yesterday on the phone that I was confusing you. I guess that holds true for tonight, too.”
“So it seems.”
She smiled her usual smile. “I still love that you gave me the orchid.”
“You don’t care that I’m confused?”
“I just want you to be enjoying yourself.”
Strangely enough, he was. “When we leave here, do you want to go for a walk on the pier?” Confusion aside, he wasn’t ready for the evening to end.
* * *
Dana breathed in the sea air. Although a few of the restaurants remained open, most of the shops were closed. The connecting amusement park was shut down for the night, too, keeping winter hours.
“Did you know that this pier opened in 1909?” Eric asked.
“I knew it had been here awhile, but I didn’t know the exact era. How different it must have been back then.”
“I’ve seen old pictures of it with the men wearing suits and the women in long dresses. People used to fish here, too. Of course, they still do.”
She nodded. She’d noticed people fishing on previous visits.
He said, “On a clear day, you can see Catalina Island. I used to spend a lot of time here as a kid.” His hair blew across his forehead. “I even got married near here. The ceremony was on the beach.”
“That sounds beautiful.” She watched the nighttime waves crash onto the shore, the wind whipping across the water. She didn’t mind that he talked about his wife. She was actually touched by how easily he confided in her about Corrine. “How old were you?”
“Twenty. We got married while we were in college.”
She tried to picture him at that age and decided that he probably looked pretty much the same. Some people didn’t change dramatically. Dana’s mother had, but Mom had lived a tough life.
He said, “After we graduated, we pursued similar career paths. Me as a teacher and her as a youth counselor.”
“You had a lot in common.”
“Right from the start.”
The breeze blew a little harder, fluttering the fringe on her shawl.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“I think the air feels good.” Being in his presence made her warm. She was wildly attracted to him: his tall, dark appearance, his cautious mannerisms. She especially liked the way he looked at her when he wasn’t aware that she was stealing glances at him. She could only imagine how he used to look at his wife. She’d never known anyone who’d seemed to be that much in love. Eric was so deep and intense, so different from Dana. She’d seen how strongly the tragic artwork at the gallery had affected him. It was odd, too, how this date was playing out, with them ending up at the same beach as where he’d gotten married.
“Are you hungry for dessert?” he asked, his voice cutting into her thoughts. “Or do you want a cup of coffee or a soda or anything?”
“I wouldn’t mind having a milkshake. Chocolate always does the trick for me.”
“I think the soda fountain place is getting ready to close. But I’ll hurry and nab you one.”
He left her standing at the rail with her shawl billowing and her mind on his wedding. She was also thinking about her own life and the part of her future that mattered most to her family.
When he returned with her milkshake, she thanked him, took a sip and said, “I want to get married and have kids someday. I promised my mom that I would never repeat our family history.”
“What history?”
“Of unwed mothers. My mom was a single mother and so was her mother. It’s not a very romantic legacy. Women raising children by themselves.”
He frowned. “Why weren’t the dads involved?”
“I was the product of a one-night stand so I have no idea who my father is. That was the only time Mom had ever done anything like that, and she’s ashamed of her behavior, even until this day.” Dana drank more of her milkshake, taking comfort in the chocolate. “She loves me and she’s been a good parent, but there was still shame attached to my birth.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My grandmother’s story is worse. She slept with a married man and that’s how she got pregnant with my mom. She had a reputation for being a loose woman in her day, but it wasn’t true. He’d seduced her into believing that he would leave his wife for her, and she paid the ultimate price when he spurned her afterward and refused to claim the baby. So you can see why they’re pinning their hopes on me to have children the legitimate way. Mom calls their experiences sins of the past.”
“I don’t think there’s anything sinful about having babies.”
“Me, neither. But I still don’t want to be an unwed mother. It would crush my family. Actually, it would probably crush me, too. I felt tainted as a kid, and I’d never want my child to feel that way.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. He reached out as if he meant to stroke her cheek, but he lowered his hand before contact was made. After a moment of silence, he added, “My daughter’s birth parents weren’t married. They were only sixteen when she was born.”
Confused, Dana blinked. “Her birth parents?”
“We adopted Kaley.”
She couldn’t hide her surprise. “All this time I thought she was yours.”
“She is mine.”
Dana apologized for the gaffe. “I didn’t mean it that way. It just wasn’t what I expected to hear.”
“That’s okay. There’s no way you could have known,” he quietly explained. “Corrine was adopted, so when we discovered that she couldn’t conceive, we turned to adoption, too. Only Corrine wanted an open adoption for our baby because hers had been closed and she always felt a sense of loss not knowing who her birth parents were.”
“So Kaley’s adoption was open?”
“No. It didn’t work out that way. But Corrine encouraged Kaley to search for her birth parents if she ever felt the need. And recently, she did. Kaley found her birth mother, and soon after that, she met her birth father.”
“Wow.” Intrigued, Dana tilted her head. “How did that go?”
“Remarkably well. For everyone. Not only did they embrace Kaley and welcome her into their lives, they got back together. They’re getting married this summer. Kaley is going to be the maid of honor and I was asked to be the best man.”
“That’s a beautiful story.” Homey, romantic. “Things don’t usually happen that way.” Or she assumed they didn’t. All she knew was her own fatherless family. “I used to wonder about my dad when I was kid. Sometimes I still do. But I could never search for him. The only thing my mom knew about him was his first name. John. Can you imagine me trying to hunt him down?”
“That would be next to impossible, unless your mom was able to remember anything else about him that might lead you in his direction.”
“She doesn’t like to talk about him, and there’s no point in putting her through that or making her relive what she considers her shame. Of course I compensated by becoming a bohemian.” She flapped her fringe and made him smile. She shared her milkshake with him, too.
He drank from the straw and handed it back to her. “Where did you grow up?”
“You’re going to laugh when I tell you.”
“Why would I laugh?”
“Freedom, Ohio.”
As predicted, he laughed. “You’re from a town called Freedom?”
“Yep. The girl who’s determined to be free. Actually, there are lots of Freedoms scattered throughout the States, but mine just happens to be in Ohio.”
“When did you move to California?”
“After I graduated from high school.” She glanced at the ocean again. The waves were getting bigger. “When I was about twelve, we came to Southern California for a vacation. I made up my mind then that I was going to live here someday.”
“Is your mom still in Ohio?”
She nodded. “My grandmother, too. Neither of them ever got married. They’ll probably go nuts when I get engaged.”
He smiled. “The bohemian bride.”
“Marriage is going to be the only traditional thing I’ll probably ever do.” They shared the last of her shake, and she got tingly putting her mouth where his had been.
“I’m glad I went on this date,” he said.
The tingly feeling went off the charts. “It’s not over yet. You still have to kiss me at my front door.”
“That’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about.”
Her, too. “The buildup is exciting.”
“I hope I don’t let you down.”
“You won’t.” She was certain of it.
And she was right. Later, he took her home, and they stood on her stoop, with a fairy-tale moon in the sky. Eric moved closer, and her heart pounded up a magical storm. As he took her into his arms, she went downright goose-bumpy.
She was going to be kissed the way she longed to be kissed: tenderly, deeply, thoroughly. They’d been waiting all evening to make this happen.
It started off slowly, a flutter of sweet warmth. She wrapped her arms around him, basking in the strength of his body. She parted her lips, and their tongues met and mated.
Then things got hotter.
Dana moaned and pressed tighter against him. He slid his hands down her spine, resting on the curve of her rear. Her moan turned to a mewling, as they continued to kiss like hedonic fiends.
She rubbed against his fly. He swore beneath his breath, but that only made it better. He backed her roughly against the door.
A gust of wind rustled through the yard. She could hear it stirring the plants and flowers. Dana had the wicked urge to remove her dress.
“Stay with me,” she heard herself say.
“I can’t,” she heard him reply.
“Yes, you can,” she countered. They were whispering in between lusty sips of each other.
He groaned and ended the kiss, but his pelvis was still fused to hers. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?”
“Yes.” She knew exactly what she was suggesting.
“I couldn’t promise more than one night, Dana.”
“It’s okay, as long as I get to be with you.” For now, all she wanted was him warm and naked in her bed.
“It would be too much like what happened with your mom.”
“It’s nothing like that. You’re not a stranger. I know more about you than your first name. And we’re going to be responsible. I have a whole box of condoms in my nightstand drawer.”
“We still shouldn’t.”
“Why? Because of our age difference? We’re both consenting adults, and I’ve been fantasizing about you since I met you.” Fantasies she wanted to make come true.
She turned and unlocked the door. Determined to have him, she reached for his hand, beckoning him to be wild and free with her.
And have the night of their lives.
Chapter Three
Eric went inside with Dana, but he didn’t jump into the sweet flame of desire. He needed to slow down, to take a deep breath, to be absolutely positive that she understood his uncommitted position. He rarely acted on impulse and this wasn’t the time to start. Nor could he bear to take advantage of her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, as they stood in her living room.
“I’m certain. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have invited you to stay with me.”
“What if we don’t go on another date again?”
“You already said that you couldn’t promise anything other than one night.”
“How would you feel afterward if I stopped coming to the diner?”
She flinched a little. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it might interfere with our lives. And if it does, then I might not come back.” He was giving himself an out, but he knew that he needed one. “If I keep coming to the diner, we might be tempted to do this again. And I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Stop worrying, Eric. I can handle this, however it turns out. I get that you don’t want to enter into a relationship. But honestly, you can still eat at the diner.” She sent him a teasing smile. “I won’t serve you a side of sex with your meat loaf.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. She was a silly delight. “Can you imagine if that was on the menu?”
“It’s on the menu tonight.” Like the seductress she was, she dropped her shawl and removed her dress, giving him a sample of what he’d just ordered.
Heat. Hunger. A sensual agreement. She’d just assured him that she could handle a one-night affair, and he could no longer resist her charms, making him crazy hot.
She was crazy beautiful. He couldn’t wait to touch her. She tossed the dress on the sofa and it landed in a pool of fabric dahlias.
She stood before him in her panties and bra and high heels. The longing to caress her, to feel the silk and softness of a woman engulfed him even more. He could barely breathe. She looked as if she were holding her breath, too.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
He nodded. He was more than ready. He wanted to drag her into his arms and sweep her into bed. Only it was her bedroom. Her house. Her rules.
She came forward and kissed him, much too softly. It was all he could do to stop from going caveman. The years he’d been celibate felt like a lifetime.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, and took him to her room.
It was a girlish mess, with clothes all over the floor. Her sheets were rumpled, too. He’d never seen such pretty chaos. Amid the clutter was more of her gypsy styling, with embroidered pillows and lacy doodads.
She shrugged, smiled. “I wasn’t expecting company in here. But I hardly ever make my bed, anyway.” She gestured to the clothes on the floor. “Those are from last night, when I was figuring out what to wear for our date.”
“And now here we are.” Only minutes from being naked together. He took off his jacket and draped it over a chair.
“I’ll get the protection so it’s handy when we need it.” She kicked off her shoes, crawled onto the bed and dug around in her nightstand drawer, leaning over with her rump in the air.
He doubted that her provocative pose was deliberate. She just seemed focused on her task. And damned cute while doing it.
“Shoot,” she said. “I can’t find them.”
Just as Eric was thinking that he’d better dash out to buy some, she turned around. “Maybe they’re in the bathroom. Give me a sec.”
Off she went to continue the search. He was still preparing to go to the store, if need be. She was cute, but she wasn’t very organized.
She reappeared with a grin. She’d found them. In fact, she held them up like a trophy. He’d never been so glad to see a box of rubbers.
He got rid of his shoes and joined her in bed, anxious to get his hands on her. She was anxious, too. She started undressing him, tugging at his clothes with feminine fury.
Once they were both bare and pressed together, he buried his face against her neck and breathed her in. Sweet heaven. Was it his imagination or did she smell like his favorite dessert?
“Am I crazy?” he asked.
“What?”
“I could swear you smell like cherry pie.”
She smiled, her lipstick lustfully smeared. “It’s cherry blossom perfume. I wore it just for you.”
“I didn’t notice it until now.” But damn, he was glad that she’d sprayed it on her skin. “If I had some ice cream, I’d gobble you up a la mode.”
She put her hand between his thighs. “If you had some ice cream, I’d let you.”
He felt as if he was going to explode. Had he ever been this aroused? They rolled over the bed, tangling the bedding more than it already was. They did thrilling things to each other, too.
Hot, wild foreplay.
He grabbed for the condoms, tore into one and put it on. Dana arched beneath him, eager and willing. He saw the fire in her eyes, so blue, so blazing, so enticing.
Fast and furious, they made hammering love. He couldn’t slow down if he tried. But she obviously didn’t want him to. She matched him, stroke for heart-thundering stroke.
They reached the peak together, or that was how it seemed. He couldn’t be sure. He was too blinded by his own hunger to gauge her orgasm.
By the time it was completely over and they separated, they were beaded with sweat and staring up at the ceiling, their fingertips still touching.
“Wow,” she said.
“Double wow.” He turned to look at her. “That was fun.”
“Just as it was supposed to be.” She planted a soft little kiss on his shoulder.
Now that it had ended, her affection made him uncomfortable. But most women got cozy afterward, he supposed, so why would she be the exception? He told himself that it didn’t mean anything.
Eric got up and used her bathroom to dispose of the protection. He returned to Dana, and her tousled blond hair made him smile. He’d run his hands through it during their foreplay. He’d messed it up but good.
“Will you stay the night?” she asked.
“Sure. Why not?” He got back into bed with her. His discomfort had lessened. Besides, she deserved to be cuddled. To leave her alone now would have been disrespectful.
She said, “I can’t wait to tell Candy how amazing my date with you was.”
“Candy?”
“My landlord.”
“You’re not going to tell her you slept with me, are you?”
“Of course I am. That’s a major part of how amazing it was.”
“Why are girls allowed to kiss and tell and boys aren’t?”
“Boys tell plenty.”
“I never have.”
“You’re one of the good ones.”
He didn’t consider himself good or bad. He simply was what he was. “I’m just private about things like that.”
“Candy is different from most girls. She hardly says anything about herself. She’s divorced and is having a tough time with it. But she hasn’t told me any of the details.”
“It takes time to get over someone.” He frowned. “I’ve heard that divorce can be as traumatic as what I went through. They say it’s like death, only without the body.”
“I’ve never thought of it like that before. But I never had cause to think about it before now. Candy is the only divorced friend I have.” She nuzzled closer. “And you’re the only widowed person I know. I’m so sorry you lost the woman you loved.”
“I appreciate that you’re able to discuss it with me without acting strange. I learned early on to keep most of it to myself. But with you, it’s been easy.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m so easy.” She nudged her nakedness against his and laughed at her own bawdy joke.
Such joy. Such innocence. He envied her that. “Someday some young guy is going to fall desperately in love with you.”
She made a dreamy sound. “I hope so.”
“It’ll happen. Mark my words.”
“Marking them now.” She grabbed a pen off the nightstand and wrote L-O-V-E on her stomach.
He poked a finger into her navel. “That looks like a really bad tattoo.”
“That’s what we should do if we ever see each other again. We should get tattoos. A hunky guy like you should have something tribal and a bohemian girl like me should have something...” She seemed to be at a loss when it came to knowing what she should have.
He went ahead and made a few suggestions. “How about something flowery? Like cherry blossoms? Or something magical? Like a unicorn or a winged tigress?”
“Those are great ideas. I think I like the tigress the best.” She purred playfully at him.
“That’s sweet. But tigers don’t purr. They chuff, like this.” He made a breathy snort, mimicking the big cats.
“Oh, that’s sexy. Maybe you should get the tiger tattoo.”
“I think we should get some sleep.” He adjusted his arm, giving her room to nestle in the crook of it.
She accepted his invitation and closed her eyes, and he watched her until she dozed off. He couldn’t help it.
He simply liked looking at her.
* * *
Dana expected Eric to awaken first, but she beat him to it. She discovered him, rough and rugged, and conked out beside her. His straight dark hair was spiked against the pillow and his jaw bore a bit of whisker stubble.
She scrounged around for a robe and found one in the midst of the clothing pile on the floor. It was her favorite robe, a silky number with a Hawaiian print.
After wrapping herself in it, she headed for the bathroom to wash what was left of last night’s makeup off her face. She also brushed her teeth and put her hair in a twisty bun.
Then she went back into her room, sat on the edge of the bed and watched Eric come awake. He squinted at her, and she smiled.
“Morning,” she said.
After a long stretch, he replied, “I’ve never been much of a morning person.” There was a surly expression on his face.
“I’m an everything person,” she told him, without losing her smile. “I like all times of the day.”
He sat up a little straighter. “I need to go home.”
“Not before breakfast.” She didn’t want him to leave just yet. She wanted to improve his mood. “Stay and eat with me. I’m a great cook.”
“Really? You are?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll whip up a batch of blueberry waffles. How does that sound?”
“Heavenly.”
Perfect, she thought, commending herself. His mood was improving already. “How about eggs and bacon, too?”
“Even more heavenly. I’m a sucker for home cooking.”
“In that case, I’ll throw in some hash browns.” The more food the better, especially if it was going to make him smile.
He did smile, and it warmed her all the way to her toes. He was still gloriously naked and gorgeous as ever.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Do you think I could use your shower? I’m never fully awake until I shower.”
“Absolutely. Wash away.”
“Any chance you have an extra toothbrush handy?”
“Are you kidding? I have a drawer full of toothbrushes in the bathroom. I have a ton of extra toiletries, too. There’s a dollar store down the street and I go a little nuts when I shop there.”
Another smile from the naked man. “Will you make coffee with breakfast?”
“Of course. That’s a given.” She watched him walk to the bathroom. All male. All healthy-guy muscle.
Dana went into the kitchen to whip up the meal. By the time Eric emerged, breakfast was ready. He’d obviously taken an invigorating shower. He looked refreshed. He was dressed, too, shoes and all.
She handed him a cup of coffee, and he inhaled the roasted aroma before he took a sip.
“This is better than the diner’s coffee,” he said.
“It’s the same brand.”
“It is? It takes richer.”
“Maybe because it’s more enjoyable to be drinking it at my house.” She grinned. “Morning-after coffee.”
“Maybe that’s it. You look cute, by the way.”
“Thanks.” She was still in her robe. There didn’t seem to be a reason to get dressed. She was comfy as she was.
They sat down at her table, and he thanked her for fixing the food. He ate with gusto. She smiled, glad that he’d agreed to have breakfast with her.
“Do you have any plans for the day?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Me, neither. It’s my day off.” She waited for him to suggest that they spend the afternoon together, but he didn’t say anything. Then again, she didn’t really expect him to. Doing what came natural, she made the effort instead. “We ought to get those tattoos today, right after we finish eating.”
“I’m not getting inked. But you go ahead.”
“Not unless you come with me.”
“I’m going home after breakfast, Dana.”
“Come on, let’s be spontaneous together. You can even help design my tattoo for me.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been spontaneous enough for one day.”
“This is day two.”
“And I’m going home.”
“Then what are you going to do?” She thought about what he’d said last night about not continuing to see each other. “Disappear and never be heard from again?”
“It’s better that way, Dana.”
“I think you’ll change your mind.” She batted her lashes. “You’ll be back at the diner.” She opened her robe and flashed him. “And you’ll be back in my bed again, too.”
He laughed. “You’re something else.”
It was wonderful to hear him laugh. “Yes, I am.”
After breakfast, he kissed her goodbye. It was a warm, sexy, dreamy kiss, and Dana was certain he wouldn’t be able to stay away. In her mind, they were meant to be lovers, for however long it lasted.
After he was gone, she sat outside by the fountain, excited about when she would see him again.
* * *
The days that passed turned into weeks, but there was no sign of Eric. Dana had been wrong. She hadn’t charmed him into coming back to the diner, let alone sleeping with her again.
But that was the least of her worries. Or maybe it was the worst of them. Today she was a nervous wreck. Today she was confiding in Candy about her missed period.
Yes, Dana was late, and she’d never been late before. She could set a computer clock by her cycles.
“You better take a test,” Candy said, as they sat in Dana’s tiny living room, gazing at each other.
Dana shook her head. There had to be another reason for her missed period. She couldn’t be pregnant. She just couldn’t be. Not her. Not the girl who was determined to have babies the good old-fashioned married way.
“But we used a condom,” she reiterated for the umpteenth time.
“Sometimes they fail.” Candy blew out a breath. “Believe me, I know.”
For a moment, Dana just stared at her. “Believe you? You know? What does that mean? Have you been pregnant before?”
Candy nodded, her past finally coming to light. “I was pregnant when I got married. That’s why my ex asked me to marry him, for the sake of the child. He was from a proper family, and he felt it was important to do the right thing.”
“What happened?”
“We were using condoms that were expired and didn’t realize it. The latex gets brittle when they’re old or improperly stored and they can have holes or tears in them that you’re not even aware of.”
“I was talking about what happened with the baby.”
The brunette glanced away. “I miscarried.”
That was what Dana assumed. “I’m so sorry.”
“I was happy about getting accidentally pregnant. But after I lost the baby, our marriage just didn’t work.”
Because her husband hadn’t loved her the way she’d loved him? Because without the baby, there was nothing keeping them tied together? To Dana, that seemed the obvious conclusion.
Candy said, “Why are we talking about me, when we should be concentrating on you taking that test?”
Dana fidgeted in her seat. Before she committed to going to the drug store, she got up to the check the expiration date on the condoms.
Sure enough, they were old. Really, really old. Her situation was beginning to mirror Candy’s.
Chance? Coincidence? Twisted fate?
Her anxiety accelerated. “If I am pregnant, Eric will never marry me.” He would probably offer child support or whatever, but he wouldn’t walk her down the aisle. “Not that I should marry him, anyway. We hardly even know each other.” She rocked forward. “But how can I raise a baby by myself after the way I was raised? After the promise I made to my family?”
Candy gently replied, “You can always terminate if that’s a better option for you.”
She touched her stomach and recalled that she’d written L-O-V-E across it on the night she and Eric had made love. “I don’t think I could do that.” But the reality of being a single parent was knocking her upside the head, too. She understood the hardships it entailed.
Candy went to the pharmacy with her, and they looked at every kit on the market, reading the backs of the boxes. Dana couldn’t decide which one to choose, so she let Candy decide for her. At this point, she couldn’t think straight.
After they returned, Dana opened the box and read the instructions. The test was a digital model and was described as ninety-nine percent accurate. Curious to know everything, she even read the clinical stuff and how pregnant women produced a hormone called hCG, which was what the test would be detecting in her urine if she was pregnant.
Leaving Candy on the couch, Dana went into the bathroom and examined the test stick. According to the pamphlet, the words Pregnant or Not Pregnant were supposed to appear in the optical reader that was encased in the stick.
Anxious, she took the test. Then she sat in the living room with Candy and waited for the results, which was supposed to take all of three minutes. Normally that would have seemed like nothing, the amount of time to listen to a song or cook a frozen pizza in the microwave. But in this case, three minutes felt like an eternity.
Finally, her time was up and she returned to the bathroom to check the display and saw “Pregnant” on the screen. Candy saw it, too. Dana wanted to sink to the floor and cry, but she forced herself to remain standing and keep her eyes dry. Still, she was trembling inside. How could she tell her mom and grandmother? How could she deal with any of this?
“Maybe it’s a false positive,” she said. “Surely that sort of thing happens.” She could hope, right? “I should probably see a doctor before I contact Eric.”
She called to make the appointment, but the soonest she could be seen was three days away.
* * *
The days dragged by, with Dana praying her period would start. She could barely concentrate at work. She even mixed up people’s orders, bringing them the wrong food.
She wasn’t faring any better at home. Mostly she just sat around, worrying and waiting, without the slightest sign of her period.
By now she doubted that the test had been a false positive, but she was still going to the doctor to be sure.
The day of her appointment, Candy drove her there, with Dana fidgeting in the passenger seat. She was glad her friend was with her. She didn’t know if she could have done this alone.
They arrived at the office and went inside. Dana signed in and they sat down and paged through outdated magazines.
Eventually Dana’s name was called and she saw the doctor. He ran a blood test, and within an hour she had the results.
Positive. She was pregnant. Unmarried and with child. The very thing she’d promised her family would never happen to her.
On the way home, Candy kept shooting Dana worried glances, as if she expected her to cry. It was all she could do to hold herself together.
But as soon as they walked in the door, she lost it and burst into tears. Candy reached for her and she put her head against the other woman’s shoulder and bawled her eyes out.
Candy kept saying, “It will be okay,” but Dana knew that was just something to say. How was it going to be okay? How was she going to survive this?
After her horrific crying jag, she dried her face and blew her nose. Somehow, someway, it was going to be okay. She would do whatever it took to get through it, even if she bordered on falling apart.
Struggling to stay strong, she mentally prepared herself to call Eric and arrange a meeting with him. Relaying her news over the phone didn’t seem right. She needed to tell him face-to-face that he was going to be a father.
Chapter Four
Eric couldn’t fathom why Dana had called and insisted that he come to her house to see her. She’d claimed it was extremely important. In fact, she sounded nervous, even a little frantic, not at all like the easy-breezy bohemian girl he knew her to be. Her tone of voice had worried him. But this whole thing worried him. He didn’t want to see her again. No, that wasn’t true. He’d been thinking a lot about her since their date, and he’d been tempted to go back to the diner. But how could he do that without wanting her again? And if they got together again, then a relationship might ensue that he wasn’t ready for. So he’d stayed away purposely, retreating to his cautious shell.
But now here he was, after work, parking his car in front of her house and hoping this wasn’t a ploy on her part. A ploy for what? To seduce him back into her bed? No, he doubted that was it. Dana wasn’t the game-playing type. Something was wrong, something she obviously felt the need to share with him.
He took the side gate to her place and found her sitting outside at her patio table, waiting for him. She looked pale and anxious. Fragile, he thought, his breath jerking from his lungs. She reminded him of Corrine when she’d first discovered that she was ill. Was Dana ill? Was that why she’d called him?
He wanted to turn and run, but he moved forward.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi,” he replied, and noticed that she had a pitcher of ice water and two glasses on the table. Obviously she wasn’t inviting him inside. Whatever she was going to say would be spoken here.
He sat across from her, and she poured him a glass of water. She poured one for herself and sipped it. Eric didn’t reach for his. He wasn’t thirsty.
“Tell me what’s going on, Dana.”
“I...”
His fear and worry increased. “Tell me, please.”
She scooted in her chair, as if she were buying more time. “Okay, here goes.” A slight pause, then, “I’m pregnant, Eric.”
A haze of white flashed before his eyes. Was she suggesting that the baby was his? No. No way. They’d used protection. They’d been careful. It just wasn’t possible.
Was it?
God, he hoped not. He prayed that the baby belonged to someone else. But if it did, then why was Dana telling him about it and not the other man?
He grabbed his water and swigged, afraid of what she was going to say next.
“The condom we used was expired, so I think that’s how it happened. It probably had a tear in it or something. I didn’t even think to check the date until...” Her words drifted into the breeze.
Eric just sat there, his mind spinning. His heart was palpitating, too. “It was me? It’s mine?”
“Yes, of course it was you. Who else would it be? I haven’t been with anyone since we were together. Or before that night, either.” Her voice hitched. “I’m five weeks along.”
He drained his glass. Their date had been five weeks ago. “And you’re going to keep it?”
“Yes,” she said again. “I haven’t told my mother and grandma. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to do that yet.”
He nodded numbly. He didn’t know what to do or say. He was forty-two years old and was having a baby with a girl nearly half his age. He didn’t want to tell anyone, either.
Finally he managed, “I’ll give you child support after it’s born. I’ll pay the deductible on your health insurance, too.” Then he stopped to consider the type of job she had. “Do you even have insurance?”
“No, but I’m going to apply for state aide and see if I fall within the guidelines.”
That sounded iffy to him. What if she didn’t qualify? Or only qualified for partial coverage? “I’d rather that you had insurance. Just choose a provider and get some online quotes. Then I’ll pay for the policy.” He would have to dip into the last of his savings to cover it, but at least he still had a little money put away. “I want to be sure that you get consistent care.”
“Thank you. I figured you’d offer to help however you could. You’re a responsible man.”
“Apparently not responsible enough. I feel terrible about being the one who did this to you.”
“We really screwed up, didn’t we? Especially me. Inviting you into my bed and providing an old condom.”
“It’s not your fault any more than it’s mine. But I can’t offer to marry you, Dana. I wish I could create the perfect scenario for you, but how can two people who barely know each other enter into a union like that? We’d be setting ourselves up for a really difficult situation.”
“I know. I thought about that, too. How we hardly know each other. I didn’t expect you to propose to me. Marriage isn’t the answer.”
He looked into the vastness of her eyes. Today they were a panicked shade of blue. He could see how scared she was of going it alone. “You vowed that you would never be a single mother.”
“It’s strange, isn’t it? How life throws challenges at you? How a person’s worst fears can come true.”
It didn’t seem fair, her being put in that position. He wanted to make it better for her, but short of marriage, which they’d just agreed wasn’t the answer, he was at a loss to help her. “I’m so sorry, Dana.”
“I’ll be okay. I’ll do whatever I can to make the best of it. I just need to focus on being a mom.”
Eric had no idea how he was going to focus on being a brand-new dad, especially at this stage of his life. “I’m going to have to figure out a way to tell Kaley, just as you’ll have to tell your family.”
“I’m going to wait a while. I need time to build up to it.”
“Have you told anyone else?”
“Candy knows. She was with me when I took the home pregnancy test. She went to the doctor with me, too.”
Was that going to be his responsibility later? He hoped not. He’d seen far too many doctors and labs and hospitals during Corrine’s treatment. He knew this wasn’t the same thing, but he still didn’t think he could deal with it. “I’m glad Candy went with you.”
She clutched her stomach. “Do you think I’ll make a good mom?”
“Of course you will.” He was glad that she didn’t say anything about him being a good dad. He wasn’t making an emotional commitment to the baby, not like he’d done with Kaley. He feared that he didn’t have it in him to be that kind of father again. Kaley was his heart. This baby was a mistake.
A poor little mistake.
“Candy wants me to keep living here. I want to stay, too. It will be cramped once the baby comes, but it’s a nice safe place. I can make my bedroom into a nursery and sleep in the living room.”
He knew that he should offer to create a nursery at his house, too, so the baby could spend weekends with him, but he couldn’t see himself taking care of an infant again.
He couldn’t see any of this. Although he wanted to do right by Dana, he felt like a zombie, going through the motions.
She said, “I’m going to keep working, of course. I’m going to stay in school, too, but I’m going to take online classes instead so I won’t have to get a babysitter while I’m at school. I’ve been thinking about what you said about me being an interior designer. I might look into that.”

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