The older woman had patted Erin’s palm, the lines around her eyes deepening with the “good” news. “Love must be in the air today because I feel like I’ve said this so many times, but you can stop looking for the man of your dreams. You’ve already found ‘the one.’”
In the next chair, Cheryl had clapped Erin on the shoulder, beaming with her patented big smile. “Congratulations. Hopefully ‘the one’ will actually find his way to the altar before six years go by.” Mischievously, Cheryl had turned to Madame Karma. “The last one took his sweet time.”
Erin had addressed Madame Karma, too. “William and I never even sent out wedding invitations, and that’s why we broke up. Our engagement was, like, an endless trek across the desert of all relationships.” But why had she even explained? “Listen, I know everyone wants to hear that kind of great news about a love life, so you feel compelled to say it, but…”
“Oh, no,” the elderly fortune-teller had said. “I’m not wrong.”
Erin had shaken her head. “You don’t understand. I’m not in the market for ‘the one.’ Not for a couple more years at least.” When she’d gotten over the disappointment of William, her college sweetheart. The man who’d taken her so completely for granted that he’d thought marriage would come when
But that was okay. Five months ago, she’d realized William wasn’t the guy for her and had called it off, yet that didn’t mean she was looking to settle down with the next candidate. She’d made herself a promise to experience life as a single woman for the first time since…ever. She’d been shackled to William for so long that she’d missed out on dating and doing all those mysterious things available women did, and now she just wanted to enjoy all the
Yet there was more to it than even that, she knew. She also wanted to avoid the profound emotions that would only lead to getting hurt again, and Wes could give her that. Someone so temporary would allow her breathing room from the anguish she’d just about recovered from with William.
But there Madame Karma was, telling Erin that Wes was “the one.” God, it was the last thing she wanted to hear.
Cheryl, who had her own long-term boyfriend, was a big supporter of Erin’s new crusade. “See, Madame Karma,” she’d said, leaning over the fortune-teller’s table, “Erin here is in transition.”
Erin had smiled and nodded.
“What can I tell you, then,” the fortune-teller had said. “Your transition man is the one you’re meant to be with.”
At that, Erin had made a sound that smacked somewhere between disbelief and panic. Didn’t Madame Karma know how much she
The psychic had sighed and risen from her chair, her gypsy skirt swishing around her legs as she began moving away from the table. “I guess
Cheryl and Erin had exchanged puzzled glances.
Madame Karma had gestured toward the sexy coffee shop, Constant Cravings, where Erin and Cheryl got their daily doses of caffeine. A creamy latte called Goes Down Easy was Erin’s current addiction.
“That woman in there…” the fortune-teller had begun.
“Lacey?” Cheryl asked.
The fortune-teller nodded. “She and her boyfriend were the first to scoff.”
Erin and Cheryl mouthed, “Boyfriend?” to each other. Lacey Perkins was as single as they came. Sure, Evan Sawyer, the building manager, seemed to enjoy harassing Lacey about her window displays a little too much, but…
“And,” Madame Karma had added, “then came the next nonbeliever, the accountant.”
Accountant, accountant…
“Oh,” Erin said, gesturing toward the fourth floor. “You must mean Chloe Cooper-”
Madame Karma was on a roll. “Let me tell you something, just so you can avoid the trouble
Cheryl, always up for a lively discussion, had raised a finger to offer her own point of view on the matter, but Madame Karma left in a rush of patchouli before Miss Debate Team could say anything.
That hadn’t stopped Erin, though. “But Wes is just a transition man,” she’d repeated to no one in particular, staring at the fountain burbling in the courtyard, yet not really seeing it.
Now, as Erin watched the harbor come into focus outside the car’s window, she knew she really shouldn’t tell Wes any of this. Truthfully, there was no reason to bring it up since their future was limited anyway. Those were the established parameters of this fling; she’d been absolutely honest about it with him. Sure, they laughed a lot and even enjoyed a few heated makeout sessions in which she’d always needed to put on the brakes. Yet it was all good: he was giving her the confidence to build up to a relationship again someday and, in return, she provided him with…well, she guessed companionship. She didn’t think he minded though, because he wasn’t built for the long- term.
As he guided the car into a parking structure, easing it along the curb where porters waited to collect luggage, Erin told herself that all she knew about him were superficial details anyway: at thirty, he was a successful day trader who’d branched out into real estate these past few years. That made him a slightly older man with the kind of experienced joie de vivre she craved. And he’d proven it with surprises like a picnic at the Hollywood Bowl one night-not your average date. He lived well and played hard, and she lapped that up, enthralled by this new way of experiencing life. This wonderfully carefree way.
After Wes cut the engine, they got out of the car and unloaded. He handed their baggage over to a porter. As Erin watched him move-boy, she really liked to do that-she shivered, and it wasn’t just because the weather was sullen.
No, not at all. It was because the porter had piled their bags on top of each other, just as if they belonged together. That luggage would be going to the same room, where Erin and Wes would finally be sleeping in the same bed.
She closed her cashmere sweater around her. What was she doing here again? To her, sex had always been entwined with what she thought was love. Sex was revealing yourself to someone else, lying next to them with your skin bare. Vulnerable. Open and offered to them. But she was working on changing that, too-serious philosophy. It only led to heartbreak, and she didn’t need any more of
As Wes parked the car nearby, Erin waited, the wind chuffing at her.
But, minutes later, when she saw him sauntering toward her-all tall, muscled, athletic grace-that ache between her legs swelled, twisted, throbbed.
She wanted him, period. And, really, there was nothing wrong with giving in to what her body needed, just as long as it didn’t include anything like a commitment. She’d save all that serious stuff for “the one” when he actually came along.
Wes grinned, and she held out her hand to take his.
“Ready?” he asked.
No.
Erin wanted to smack herself.
“Yup, let’s get on board,” she said instead, brushing against his leather jacket and taking in the musky, rugged scent.
As they left to embark, the wind seemed to carry the fortune-teller’s words of warning:
2
DURING WHAT SEEMED LIKE AN endless check-in process, Wes had tried to think of everything
