ESCAPE INTO ROMANCE- 4 Book Bundle

by Patrice Wilton

  “So, you are going to meet strange men from the Internet, and do what, exactly?”

  “I’m not sure, but I do know that they’ll have to work hard to please me. If not, hasta la vista, baby.” Maddi laughed. “They’re probably vulnerable, willing, and most likely, lonely.”

  “Desperate,” Barbara concluded.

  “No, not desperate. Just searching.”

  Barbara stood up to add a log to the fire, then wandered around lighting candles, making the room warm and cozy. “Well, if nothing else, at least you’ll be getting out of the house.”

  “True.” She waited until Barbara turned around to face her, and then told her what she’d been longing to say. “And as for you—you should go back to Bill. He loves you. I know he’s not perfect, but what man is?”

  “I can’t go back.” Barbara’s spine was as rigid as a five-iron shaft, as she stood gazing at the fire. “I can’t face him, Maddi.” Her beautiful expressive eyes went blank. “I think he wanted to ask me for a divorce. He was leading up to it, that day in the hotel. Kept saying we needed to talk. Well, I don’t want to talk. Not yet.”

  “I understand, Barbara, but this can’t go on forever. You’ve been avoiding him for a month now.”

  “I need a little longer, Maddi. I can’t figure out what I want. Do I fight for my marriage, or walk away?”

  “Fight. He’s worth it.”

  Barbara opened her mouth, closed it, and finally said, “Before this happened, Bill didn’t make love to me in months. And when he did, he might not have bothered because I still felt empty inside. Am I asking too much? Do I want too much? To feel needed, wanted, loved?”

  “Of course not. Everyone should feel loved. It’s such a shame because he does love you, I know. He just doesn’t take the time to show it.”

  “Exactly,” Barbara snapped. “And I need more. I’m only thirty-eight. I want somebody to want me, to appreciate me, to make me feel special. At least pretend that I count once in a while.”

  Maddi nodded. “Of course you do.”

  “But to hell with him. I don’t need him, I don’t need any man. I’ve got my sons. I’ve got a life.”

  Maddi tossed back her wine. “I’m going to get a life. I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. I refuse.”

  Barbara swallowed loudly, and tears filled her eyes. “I’m glad for you, Maddi. You’re ready to move on, but I’m not. I still love Bill. But loving him isn’t enough. We don’t make each other happy.”

  “Damn it, Barb. If you love the man, tell him so. Fight for him. Don’t be so willing to throw fifteen years away.” She looked her friend in the eye. “And think about this while you’re at it. He’s great husband material. If you toss him away, there’ll be plenty of women waiting on the pass line, hoping for a touchdown. Like Mary Evans, for starters.”

  “Including you?” Barbara’s hand flew to her mouth as if she couldn’t believe she had voiced the question, but it hung in the air between them, separating them like two prizefighters.

  Maddi stood up, and moved to the other side of the room. She kept her back to Barbara, her proud shoulders thrown back as if squaring off for a good fight. She circled back.

  “How dare you say that to me.” She narrowed her eyes dangerously. “I’ve never gone after another woman’s husband. Or cheated on my own.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” Barbara glowered at Maddi, who glared back. “So now the truth comes out.” Barbara drained the glass of Merlot, and slammed it on the table. “All along you’ve been thinking I deserved what I got.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Maddi answered flatly.

  “You didn’t have to.”

  They stared at each other, horrified at what they were saying.

  Maddi waited for Barbara to apologize. How could she think for one second that she’d be interested in her husband? Had she not proven her friendship, time and again, in every conceivable crisis?

  After several long seconds, Barbara broke the silence.

  “I don’t have anything to lose now either, not if I’ve lost your friendship. I’m sorry, Maddi. It was stupid of me.”

  “Yes, it was,” Maddi’s voice broke. “Oh, God, Barb, I was so scared. We’ve never said mean things to each other before.”

  “And we won’t ever again. Promise?” She flung an arm around Maddi’s shoulder, hugging her. Smiling now, she reached down to the wine bottle and filled both their glasses. “Come on, drink up, and then you can show me all the gorgeous men you’re going to meet.”

  Maddi grinned. “Okay. Maybe we could even find one for you.”

  “Not interested. I still love my husband, and to be honest—after Lee, I’d find it hard to trust a stranger, even a casual acquaintance. You will be extra careful, won’t you?”

  “I will be. Trust me.” Maddi glanced at her friend. “If someone had told me a couple of years ago that I’d be looking up men’s profiles from an on-line dating service, I’d have told them they were smoking bad weed. But here I am.”

  “And if that same someone said I’d be here, hanging with you, instead of being home with my family, I’d have said they were crazy.” Barbara took a sip of wine. “What happened to us?”

  Maddi shrugged. “We became statistics.”

  “Sucks.”

  “Doesn’t have to.” She opened the computer and showed Barbara the cute guys she intended to meet.

  “I’m not going to sit around and get old while my ex has all the fun. I’m going to date, and laugh, and have sex if and when I feel like it, but I’m never, never going to lose my heart.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Barbara and her youngest son, Brad, watched Scott’s basketball game, and following the match the three stopped for a pizza. After scoffing down most of the extra-large super stuffed pepperoni pizza, and two large cokes, the boys asked her when she was coming home.

  “Soon,” she said, and rapidly changed the subject. “How’s that science project coming, Bradley?”

  “Lousy. I’m supposed to invent something but everything I try doesn’t work.” Not meeting her eyes, he grumbled, “Most of the kids have their parents helping, but mine are missing in action.”

  “Oh, Brad, that’s hardly fair. I’m not much good in that particular area, but you know I’d help you. All you had to do was ask. We could go to the library or a science museum and see if it will generate any ideas. How does tomorrow sound?”

  “Okay. But it’ll have to be after five. I’ve got a detention.”

  “You what?” Barbara rolled her eyes and looked at Scott, who was chuckling and making faces at his brother.

  “It’s no big deal. I was late for class.”

  “Why were you late?”

  “Because I slept in.”

  Barbara felt the words slice through her. Miserably, she reached out for his hand. “I’m sorry, honey. If I’d been home it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Exactly.”

  Nobody said anything else for the remainder of the meal. She paid the bill, and the boys thanked her for the pizza. She flung an arm around their shoulders on the silent walk to the car.

  Pulling in the driveway, she gave them more hugs and they resisted her kisses. “I’ll see you in the morning. What will it be? Pancakes for breakfast, or my special egg Mcmuffins?”

  “You don’t have to,” Brad said, “we can fend for ourselves.”

  “I don’t want you “fending for yourselves”. I’ve moved out of the house temporarily, but not out of your lives. I love you both more than anything. I won’t fail you again, I promise.”

  “It was my fault I slept in.” Brad grinned cheekily. “I laid the guilt trip on, so you’d skip the lecture.”

  Scott shook his head, and punched his brother. “That was a mean thing to do, but it worked.”

  She smiled lovingly at them. “Well, it won’t happen again. And don’t forget, I’m only at Maddi’s, a couple of blocks, and one phone call away.”

 
“What’s going on with you and Dad? Are you getting a divorce?” Scott asked sulkily. “Half the kids at school have divorced parents, so it’s no big deal.”

  “No, Hon. We’re not getting a divorce. At least I hope not. But whatever happens, you know we love you both very much.”

  The boys looked dejected as they got out of the car. “Mom, is Dad seeing anybody else?” Scott peered at her closely. “Or are you?”

  “No, of course not. Your dad is busy at work as usual. He’s a good man, and I will always love him.”

  “Then come home. Please?” Brad asked, pitifully.

  Tears filled her eyes. “I can’t, sweetheart, but very soon. If I come home before I’m ready, I might say or do something that I’d regret later. Give me a little more time, okay?”

  She watched the boys trudge toward the house. When then turned and waved sadly, it very nearly broke her heart. She knew she couldn’t subject them to this yo-yo living much longer. She had to make a decision soon.

  * * *

  While Barbara spent more time with her sons, Maddi began her hunt. Internet dating required a lot of work and foreplay. They had to exchange information, flirt a little, be coy, and finally agree to meet. Keeping it safe, she only met men for a quick drink, or lunch, somewhere public, and where she could make an easy escape. The first few men she met were pretty much duds, not nearly as exciting as what she’d been led to believe. Some didn’t resemble their pictures at all. Still, she intended to keep at it, sure that eventually a nice man would come along.

  * * *

  David was in the birthing room with Tami, and he couldn’t bear to watch. He’d rather be scuba diving, or sailing, or driving his Porsche convertible, or drilling a patient for that matter. Anywhere but here.

  What was so damn exciting about seeing a baby being popped out? He hadn’t seen his first two until they’d been cleaned up, and that was the way it should be. He did his job, and she should do hers. But no. Tami had thrown a hissy fit when he’d told her that.

  He kept his eyes closed so he didn’t have to see her legs wide open, and the puny red head peeking out. He heard her scream, and felt her nails dig into his hand.

  His eyes flew open, and he could see blood.

  “Push, that’s a girl. Give it one good push. Aw…here it comes. Come on, baby, come on.” The doctor cooed, to David’s further annoyance.

  The doctor looked up at David, beaming with pride. “Come around here and see your beautiful baby boy.” He held up the slippery, little tyke, showing him off.

  Tami lifted her head from the table. Tears ran down her cheeks as she looked at David and the baby. “A boy, David. We have a son.”

  “He’s perfect, honey. You did good, real good.” Backing away from the table, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He hoped like hell the Doctor didn’t expect him to hold that wet, blood soaked, little guy.

  Turning to the nurse, the Doctor spoke. “Brenda, show David how to cut the umbilical cord. I think he’ll get a kick out of that.”

  David took two steps towards the door. “No, thanks, Doc. I don’t ask you to do my root canals, you don’t ask me to do umbilicals.”

  “David!” Tami shrieked. “Cut the damn cord!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Maddi had been chatting up an airline pilot for several weeks, but between his schedule and hers, they had not been able to arrange a meeting. Finally, they had their first date.

  They met in the City at the Tribeca Grill, a popular restaurant that was noisy, crowded, and fun. And Ken was definitely easy on the eye. Tall, broad-shouldered, nice buns, with a killer smile. Throughout the meal, he was both friendly and flirtatious, and an entertaining conversationalist.

  He told her that he’d worked for American Airlines for eighteen years, and was a captain on the newest Boeing in their fleet. He’d been married for twelve years and had a ten year-old son, and that his last relationship with a flight attendant had ended six months before.

  Maddi told him about her failed marriage, and had him laughing aloud over the story of taking David’s boat to Montserrat. The hour flew by, and she was in no hurry to leave.

  Ken signaled for the bill as soon as the plates were cleared. “You didn’t want dessert, did you?”

  “No, thank you. I couldn’t even finish my linguini, as delicious as it was.”

  “Sorry, that I have to eat and run, but I’ve a million things to do before my flight tomorrow. I have a six AM check-in. I’m over-nighting in L.A, back the next day.”

  He didn’t say anything about seeing her again, just kissed her cheek when they were outside on the sidewalk, then turned and walked away. She drove home, confused and disappointed.

  Barbara was working on the tread-mill when Maddi exploded into the room. “Hey. How’d it go?” she asked.

  Maddi’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. He was eye-candy, that’s for sure. We got along well over lunch, but then he made an excuse and left the second our plates were cleared. I caught him checking out his text messages, but he said it was work.”

  “It probably was.”

  “I don’t think so. I doubt if I’ll hear from him again.”

  “Why? You look fantastic, you’re intelligent, and fun. What’s not to like?”

  “When he didn’t say anything about getting together again, should I have?”

  “Sure. It’s a two way street.” She hit the speed button to slow down the machine. “Why don’t you check your e-mails? If he hasn’t written, there’s nothing stopping you.”

  “It’s up to him whether he wants to see me again.”

  “Give me a break!” Barb said sharply. “Isn’t that the very thing the MARS Club is trying to change? Aren’t women supposed to be calling the shots, not sitting around wishing and hoping, allowing men to run our lives?”

  “True. You’re right, of course. I can just as easily call him.” Maddi straddled the work-out bench she used for weight training, and sat there a few minutes. Delaying the inevitable.

  Internet dating sure had its drawbacks. She wasn’t comfortable advertising herself, initiating conversations with strange men, emailing back and forth. She preferred the old way of meeting guys through friends and social contacts. She wanted to be courted, as old fashioned as that sounds.

  Maddi stood up. “You’re running yourself skinny,” she remarked, poking a finger towards Barbara’s ribs. “Look at you, Barb. You’re wasting away to nothing.”

  “Stress. Best diet on the market.”

  “No. Divorce is.” Maddi smiled. “Be careful. I don’t want you disappearing on me.” She threw a towel over Barbara’s head then dashed out of the room, laughing as she heard her friend curse.

  Going into her closet, she removed her boots and changed into comfortable clothes. She wanted to wait an hour or two to check her messages. Enough time for Ken to get home and go on-line. Finally, she couldn’t wait a minute longer, and checked, only to find out he hadn’t written. As a MARS club president, she had to take matters into her own hands, or forever be known as a fraud.

  She dropped him a short note and he responded right away, asking if she’d meet him for a drink when he got back from his flight. She was still smiling as her head hit the pillows.

  They met at Harry’s Bar, and she’d put on high heels and a tight leather skirt that was meant to catch his eye. It also caught a few others as she swung through the door.

  “Hey, hey, hey.” He grinned. “You look hot tonight.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She ran her hand over her hip, and smiled. “So, how was the trip?”

  “The usual. Weather was good but our lay-over was short.”

  “Where’re you off to next?”

  “I’ve got a couple of days free, then I’m back to the west coast.” He attracted the bartender’s eye, and asked. “What are you drinking?”

  “A glass of Kendall Jackson chardonnay.”

  “Make that two,” he told the bartender.

  They spent an hour mak
ing small talk and discovered a mutual love of indoor sports. They arranged to meet Sunday afternoon at the New York Racquet Club for a game of squash. It was to be their third date. And as all women know, the third date was ‘the date’.

  Sunday morning came, and she was as nervous as a mail-order bride. She’d only had a couple of serious boyfriends before marrying David and that seemed a lifetime ago. Ken was a hunk but she hardly knew him. Could she really be contemplating having sex after two short dates? Is that what the world had come to?

  In the locker-room she kicked off her boots, slid down her pants, folded her cashmere sweater, and glanced at herself in the mirror. Not bad, she thought, checking out her body critically. At least she didn’t have gobs of flab or cellulite, even if her butt was heading south for the winter.

  She slipped a little cotton t-shirt over her sports bra and ran a brush through her chin-length blonde hair. Ken was warming up on the court, doing squats and chest presses as he waited for her. She watched him a minute, enjoying the rear view. He was in great physical shape.

  He was also relentless. He ran her all over the court, and she scurried around like a little rabid hamster. In no time, she was sweating buckets. And damn, but didn’t he manage to look even better in a sweat? She hoped her wet t-shirt made up for the flushed face, her dripping mascara, and her now soaked, slicked back “do”.

  “Okay. You win. Again.” She threw herself against the wall and slid onto the floor, legs spread in front of her. Breathing deeply, she gasped, “Now what? I don’t think I can move, much less shower and change.”

  Ken grinned. “Shall I throw you over my shoulder and haul you into the shower? Just say the word. It’ll be my pleasure.”

  “You should be so lucky.”

  This afternoon was not going well. She had to think of something fast, some way to stop looking at him as if he was a candy stick and she had a thing for sweets. But he looked so sexy, so male, so virile, so beddable, and that, in a nutshell, was the problem. She wanted to get laid. Correction: she needed to get laid, but as a recruiter and president-elect for the MARS Club, it had to be on her terms.