sex.
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Heather Webber
“Don’t look so forlorn. There is another bathroom in the house.”
Riley’s.
I shuddered.
Forcing myself to remember that my mother had only been trying to do something nice for me, I mustered up a smile. “I’m sure it will look really nice.”
She kissed both my cheeks, yawned and said, “I’m going home now.”
To see my father. Who’d undoubtedly fill her in on my nighttime adventure.
I saw her off, called Maria and left a thank-you message on her voice mail, and quickly took a shower in Riley’s bathroom, trying not to feel displaced.
The phone rang as I was slipping into a clean pair of shorts.
“Hey,” Bobby said.
I sighed. I couldn’t help myself. His voice did that to me.
It was a totally feminine reaction I hated, but it wasn’t to be helped. And it almost—almost—made me forget all about my legal problems and construction woes.
“Hi,” I said.
“Sleep well?”
Well enough considering Ana hogged covers and tended to throw elbows while she slept.
But he didn’t need to know all that right now. I’d fill him in later. “Good. You?”
“I was lonely,” he said in a way that heated my blood.
For some reason, I kept hearing faint strains of “Are You Lonesome Tonight” in my head. “Oh?”
“Is that all I get? An ‘oh’?”
I should maybe tell him how I’d had to sit down because my knees had gone weak at the thoughts of me and him, him and me in my new bed. “It’s a good oh,” I said.
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“Is there such a thing?”
“Definitely.”
I heard a smile in his voice as he said, “I’ll keep that in mind. How’s your schedule?” he asked. “Is lunch a possibility?”
I chewed a fingernail.
“Nina?”
I’d have to deal with it sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. Right?
I eyed my fingernails, looking for a jagged edge. Sooner just wasn’t working for me. I needed a little more time. “I’ve actually got to work this afternoon.” Which was true, so I didn’t feel the least bit guilty.
Okay, a little guilty.
“How about dinner?”
Dinner sometimes led to dessert. And nightcaps. And big fluffy beds. “Sounds good.”
We agreed to a time, and I hung up, feeling slightly queasy yet excited at the same time. I knew I had to head into work, but if I was to be using Riley’s bathroom for the fore-seeable future, it needed to be cleaned. Scrubbed, actually.
As I gathered up supplies, I couldn’t help but remember that cleaning the bathrooms had been Kevin’s household chore. I’d loved that about him.
Loved.
Love?
I threw myself into scrubbing, trying to figure out what to do about Greta Grabinsky.
Did she want me to finish the yard or not? In her current state of mind, I’d have to say no. But if a foreclosure lawsuit was pending, did she have a choice?
Had the lawsuit been dropped as the man in her kitchen 118
Heather Webber
insinuated? I wondered how I could find out, and decided to check with Kate Hathaway, the Fallow Falls HOA
