Page 7 of Seducing Cinderella

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I’m sorry, but he caught me off guard, and I didn’t know what to say.”

“When are you going to either tell him how you feel or move on?”

“Vanessa…”

“I know you don’t like it when I bring this up but come on. You can’t wait your whole life for this guy to up and decide one day that he likes you.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just—” Lucie heard Reid open his bedroom door down the hall. “Hey, I have to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Before her friend could argue, she closed the phone, silenced the ringer, and set it on the table.

“Whatcha reading?”

His deep voice resonating in her usually quiet, usually very male-free home sounded out of place. She watched as he crossed in front of her wearing nothing but athletic shorts hanging low—almostindecentlylow—on his hips. At some point he must’ve sat in the opposite corner of the couch, but she somehow lost those moments with the distraction of his bare torso.

“You keep your mouth open like that, Lu, and you’re bound to catch flies,” he said with a wry grin.

Snapping her jaw shut in total humiliation, she cut her eyes back to the book in front of her that could’ve been written in Greek for all she knew. She tucked her shower-damp hair behind an ear and cleared her throat. “You should put a shirt on when we’re not doing therapy.”

“Why? The less I wear the more comfortable I am. I put the shorts on as a courtesy to your virtue.”

She gasped. When he laughed, she realized that’s exactly the reaction he’d been going for. Narrowing her sights, she chucked the book in his direction, which he easily deflected with a flick of his hand. How annoying.

“Relax, Luce. There’s nothing wrong with appreciating someone’s more appealing physical traits. In fact, that’s lesson number one.”

She snorted. “How to properly ogle someone?”

“No. How to properly get someone to ogleyou.”

Suddenly Lucie needed a drink and practically bolted to the kitchen. She was almost positive she had a bottle of wine some—Aha! Grabbing the corkscrew out of a drawer, she worked quickly to open and pour a large glass of the Moscato wine, then drained it almost as fast. And then repoured.

“Do you have wine often?”

She jumped—again—and whirled to face him, glass in one hand, bottle in the other. “Will you stop sneaking up on me like that? And, no, I don’t usually drink wine. This was a Christmas gift from a patient.”

“I’m not sneaking. You’re jumpy. Maybe the wine isn’t such a bad idea.” He scanned her apartment for a minute, allowing her to down most of her second glass without an audience. “Do you have a full-length mirror around here?”

“In my bedroom, but—”

“Perfect. Let’s go.” He grabbed the bottle away from her and led her to her room.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you, lesson number one: dress to impress.”

Lucie was afraid to ask for clarification, and instead chose to gulp some more wine. After he plopped her down on her bed, he strode over to her closet and began rifling through her clothes. She thought to object, to tell him to get away from her things, but the alcohol was already easing the tension in her shoulders, and she decided to see what he was up to.

“So tell me, Luey, what’s so special about this guy? Why is he our objective and not anyone else?”

“Why is that important?” she asked, wringing her hands together as she watched his back. “Can’t I just say I like him and leave it at that?”

As he moved hangars from one side to the other, occasionally pulling a garment out, only to put it back with a muttered insult, she studied the play of muscles in his shoulders and back. She’d seen Stephen in tight T-shirts when he sometimes used the PT room for a quick workout, but he didn’t look anything like Reid. Where Stephen had a runner’s body, thin with lean muscle, Reid’s body was the exact opposite. He wasn’t large or bulky like those fake wrestlers on TV, but his medium build didn’t have an ounce of fat on it, and every square inch was home to a beautifully defined muscle. It definitely wasn’t a hardship watching him do anything in his shirtless state, no matter how mundane.

“Nope. Not good enough. You’re willing to do something incredibly unconventional and drastic to get this guy. So, I want to know why him. I need to know what I’m working with here if I’m going to help you.”

She bit her lip and wondered if she dared tell him. Not even Vanessa knew, but she supposed if she could share it with anyone, it would be Reid. After all, he was in her home for the explicit reason to help her in her quest to date, and eventually marry, Stephen. Plus, he’d be gone in a couple of months, so it wasn’t like he’d be around to lord her incredibly pathetic secret over her until the end of days.

Opening up her nightstand drawer, she pulled out a crinkled magazine page. It was a full-page ad for a real estate company, featuring a picturesque colonial home with an idyllic family standing in front of it. The husband stood proudly by his wife, one arm around her waist, the other hand on his son’s shoulder. Younger sister stood in front of the mom who held an infant in her arms. The quintessential American couple with two-point-five kids and their faithful shih tzu at their feet.

“Here,” she said, holding out the page. “I’ve kept this for three years. This is what I want.”

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