Page 33 of Already Home

“What happened? Or is that too personal?”

“I don’t mind talking about it. We were too young. We met incollege, fell in love and thought it was forever. We got married after college,moved to Boston and started our careers. We had a plan—kids in a couple ofyears. Instead of growing closer together over time, we grew apart. Suddenlywe’d been married four years and didn’t seem to be getting any closer tostarting a family. We fought about that, then we fought about everything else.One day we both realized it was over.”

“That sounds sad,” she told him.

“It was, but I recovered. Moved to Chicago. I thought I’d meetsomeone there, but it’s tough. I’m not a guy who likes going to bars. I don’twant to date anyone at work. It can be messy.”

“I can imagine,” she murmured.

He hunched his shoulders a little and leaned toward her. “Itried a dating service. Talk about a disaster. I couldn’t believe the women theywere fixing me up with. We had nothing in common. One of the women had twelvecats. I’m not kidding. I don’t mind a couple of pets but twelve of anythingisn’t normal.”

Violet laughed. “I agree. Plus, how would you get the hair offyour suits?”

“Tell me about it.”

Conversation drifted to favorite movies. They both likedcomedies and action movies. Neither of them enjoyed foreign films. He admittedhe was a closet Harry Potter fan and she whispered that she was probably theonly person in the area who didn’t like burnt orange—the University of Texascolor. When their server asked if she wanted more coffee, she glanced at herwatch and was shocked to find it was after ten.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “I didn’t realize.”

Cliff nodded. “You probably have to get home.” He hesitated. “Iwas wondering...”

All her warm feelings tumbled. Three hours of greatconversation, seducing her into thinking he was nice and normal and that shereally liked him was going to end in him asking her to his place. For a drink.Because that was always how it started.

She grabbed her purse and jerked it open. She’d put a hundreddollars in twenties right on top. Just in case she had to pay and run. No wayshe was going to let him buy her dinner and think that she owed him.

He cleared his throat. “Now that you’ve spent some time withme, I was wondering if I could see you again. And if...” More throat clearing.“If you’d, ah, trust me with your phone number.”

She stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Your number,” he said again. “So I can, ah, call you and seeyou again.”

She blinked. That was it? He wanted her phone number? Notsex?

Relief tasted sweet.

“Cliff, I would very much like to see you again. And yes, youcan have my number.”

His whole expression changed. His smile lit up his face and helooked as if she’d just handed him the keys to a Ferrari.

“Great.” He pulled out his cell, prepared to input the info.“Okay, shoot.” She gave him her number.

He paid the bill and they walked outside. After escorting herto her car, he lightly touched her arm.

“How about Saturday night?”

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Me, too.” He leaned in and lightly kissed her cheek.“I’ll call you with the details.”

No one had ever kissed her cheek before. At least not that shecould remember. She hadn’t allowed kissing with clients, and the guys she’d beeninvolved with had been more interested in getting their tongue down her throatthan in anything remotely sweet and tender.

He stepped back. “Would you mind texting me when you get home?So that I know you got home safe?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Thanks, Violet. I had a perfect time with you.”

And then he was gone. No touching, no hinting, no feeling herup. Just a nice guy on a first date. It was like something out of themovies.

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