Page 34 of Unforgiven in Cheshire Bay

“I can’t believe he blew you off. Bastard.” Libby tugged up her thigh-high stockings before she sat down, curling her long legs underneath. Today she wore bright purple with her white skirt. “You’re so sweet and amazing, so he’s the idiot for not making a move. Something must be wrong with him.” Her voice started to pitch. “You know, I have half a mind to storm over to Birch Bay and say a few things.”

I covered her hand. “Don’t. I’m not worth it.”

Apparently.

He wasn’t interested, even if he was putting out the signs. Or was I just reading way too much into it? First guy to look at me in years, not as a mother or a woodcarver, but as someone else, and naturally, I fell for the charms and was ready to bed the guy. Seriously, how embarrassing. I was a grown woman, a mother for crying out loud, I shouldn’t have acted like a desperate, horny teenager.

“You are worth it, and if he can’t see that—”

“Then it’s on him?” I got that, but they were just words.

Everyone said those exact words. Adam was the forerunner on that, with Mia and Francesca battling it out for second, although Fran never had a problem securing a date to anything. She was frustratingly perfect in looks, charm, and her desire to do things her own way. A fantastic role model for Vera. Mia was too. Both were the sunshine to my rain clouds.

“It is. I know you don’t believe me.”

“It’s really hard to when I haven’t had a date in years. Years, Libby. Not since before Vera. Single motherhood is a bonafide date killer.Oh hey, I think I like you. What’s that? You have a child? Oh, I, well, I only said I liked you, I’m not interested in an insta-family.”

One guy, who I thought had been interested in me, did a complete one-eighty when he learned I had a child and said he was too young to think about a family. Too young? He was twenty-eight, not eighteen. We’d gone out once, and I hadn’t even considered a second date, let alone make him part of the family before he dropped that bombshell on me.

“Then honestly, he isn’t the right guy. He should be wowed by your independence not repelled by it.”

I set my coffee down on the table, trying to match it up with the heat-stained ring. “It is what it is. However, David’s also my client, and I’m working on a big project for him, with a big payback.”

“How much extra did you charge him?” She leaned forward.

“Not as much as you wanted, but enough to give me, well Vera and I, a nice cushion.” It would help take a bit of pressure off the long winter months when I needed to rely more on internet sales than markets.

Plus, winter was coming and the tires on my truck were quite bald. With the new incoming cash, the possibility existed of getting newer takeoffs with more tread, rather than the ones with only 40% remaining. Or I could address the slow leak in the roof. Or set some money aside for Vera’s next hearing aid.

Libby spoke, pulling me away from the running list of needs to take care of. “Way to go. I’m glad you charged him a little more.”

There was pride in her words I took to heart, but it also came with a side of guilt. When I created the contract, I was still angry with him, but since getting to know him better, he’d turned out to be a nice guy. Maybe I could add in a little something extra, to help alleviate some of the guilt. Besides, it’s not like he’d ever find out about the price adjustment. There’s just no way that would ever happen.

A vehicle pulled into the driveway, and I peeked from behind the gauzy curtains. A little Mini. Didn’t the guy ever stop checking in on me?

“Well, he’s here.” My voice dropped.

“David?”

I closed the curtains and fell back onto the sofa. “Yep. In addition to blowing me off, he’s also a micromanager. Bet he’s here to look at what I’ve accomplished so far with his pieces. Truth be told, at this rate, I’ll be happy when it’s done.” Especially since nothing in the romance department will ever happen; the last date was proof of that. “I could pretend I’m not home. I’m allowed, right?”

She nodded and kept quiet as the doorbell rang.

“Ah, fuck it. Let me show him what I’ve done, and I’ll be right back.” I rose and headed for the back door.

Libby was hot on my heels, chuckling and whispering as if David was already in the house. “You think that’s what he’s doing? Checking on you?”

“I know it is.”

“You are so wrong. He’s inventing an excuse to see you.” She jumped in front of me and crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe he’s more into you than you think.”

“That’s not it.” I was shaking my head rapidly.

“How many times has he just—”

A knock came from the back door.

“I need to get this.” I walked through my kitchen, down the four stairs to the back door, and pulled it open. My jaw hit the floor.

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