Page 10 of Line of Resistance

“Seven?” Jen tossed out the same time she always did. An hour that wasn’t necessarily late, but also wasn’t early.

“Sure. Seven is perfect.” Eloise checked her watch, mentally calculating how much she could get finished in the two hours she had between now and then. “Should I meet you guys there?”

As expected, Jen had a whole plan already laid out. “It’s Naomi’s turn to drive. She’s going to swing past and pick me up first then we’ll come grab you.”

Great. Now she wouldn’t have the option of leaving early. Not that she would have actually done it. She always stuck it out, no matter how late it got or how exhausted she was. “Perfect. I’ll see you soon.”

Eloise disconnected the call, her phone hitting the mattress a second before her back as she dropped flat against the clothing-covered surface and stared at the ceiling. She’d planned to spend the evening reorganizing. She desperately needed to weed out her wardrobe, but she needed a distraction even more. Something to keep her from thinking about how Nate was so sweet with Bryson.

And the not so sweet way he seemed to always be a little closer than she expected.

And the way he looked in all that black, geared up and ready for anything that dared cross his path.

And the stupid way she kept catching whiffs of the clean, slightly woodsy scent that made Nate smell like a man who could tackle anything.

But mostly, she needed to stop thinking about the heat that flared in his eyes when he mentioned the kiss she was almost positive he was teasing her with. Because if Nate really wanted to kiss her he would have. Initially, she’d understood his hesitation to take full advantage of the mistletoe at last year’s Alaskan Security Christmas party, but at this point, he’d had more than a few opportunities and could have made plenty more.

But he hadn’t. Shocker.

She heaved her body up from the mattress, groaning long and loud as she scanned the mess she’d made. Now, not only was there no time to finish what she started, she had to decide what in the heck to wear tonight and where in the hell she put it.

While digging through the mounds of organized chaos, she ran across a dress she purchased nearly a year ago, thinking it might be what she would wear on her first date with Nate. The thing remained unworn, still sporting the tags it came with, because part of her—the hopelessly romantic part—continued reserving it for its intended purpose.

Not anymore. She gripped the paper and yanked, snapping the plastic fastener in two.

She was an idiot. No woman in her right mind would have held onto hope this long. They would’ve moved on. Found someone new. Someone who was actually interested in them.

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. At least in the long term. There were plenty of men who wanted to take her on first and sometimes second dates, but rarely did it go beyond that. It didn’t matter how agreeable she was. How friendly. How much she smiled or how interested she was in everything they said, the third dates never came.

And, on the rare occurrence they did, she ended up wishing they hadn’t, like she had with Matt.

He seemed nice enough at first. Had plenty to talk about and enjoyed going out to dinner. He was a welcome distraction and a nice boost for her ego after the embarrassment of being so bluntly rejected by Nate.

But then, like every other relationship she’d managed to get into, Matt ultimately decided he wasn’t that interested in her and broke things off five minutes before he was supposed to pick her up for a double date with Naomi and Tyson. The whole thing embarrassed the absolute heck out of her. Enough that, for a minute, she forgot to be who they believed she was, accidentally letting her old self bleed through. It could have been catastrophic. She could have ended up singleandfriendless.

And honestly, that wasn’t even the worst part of it.

Adding insult to injury, Matt showed up, flowers in hand, expecting her to take him back and acting like nothing had happened.

But something happened all right. Nate tossed him out on his butt, springing the lingering hope still festering in her chest back to life. Making her think she’d finally found a man who felt more than mild interest when he looked at her.

But, like the date they were supposed to have, and the flipping kiss Nate loved to talk about, it was yet another fake out. And she was tired of the bullshit. Tired of being nice and agreeable and complimentary and easy-going and still alone.

It seemed like the best, and most immediate, plan of action was to stuff herself into the hottest dress she owned and get hammered.

Two hours later, she was halfway into her new plan, yanking at the strap of her SPANX as she turned in front of the mirror. Her dark hair was curled within an inch of its life, the thick pile of her bangs pushed a little to one side since they were well past needing a trim. Normally she’d try to snip them herself in the bathroom since the bangs added to the syrupy sweet image she worked hard to convey, but tonight she was over it. Over herself.

Both versions.

So she skipped the trim and added an extra layer of smokiness to her eye makeup, smiling when the long length of her false lashes didn’t have anything to tangle in as she batted them at her reflection. She sure didn’t look like a sweet elementary school principal tonight. Maybe she wouldn’t act like one either.

Eloise checked her phone as she wiggled both feet into the most ridiculous pair of shoes she owned. The heels were impractical and possibly a little dangerous, but tonight style trumped stability. On all fronts.

She eyed the snow boots sitting beside her door and considered taking them along. Just in case. You never knew what might happen, it was Alaska after all, and there wouldn’t be much worse than having to stomp through the snow in pumps if they got stranded.

In the end, she fought the ingrained urge to be prepared for anything, grabbing only her coat and purse before hurrying out the door and down the shoveled steps right as the expensive black SUV Tyson chauffeured them around in pulled up. It was still relatively early in the season, but in typical Alaska fashion, the temperature had dropped earlier than normal, and she pulled her coat tighter to her body as she hustled across the lot, keeping all her attention on picking the best possible places to step.

Jen jumped out of the back seat, peering at her around the passenger-side door. “Wowza. You look hot.”

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