by Cindi Madsen
Hello! Nice arms is what got you into tonight’s bad date experience in the first place, and you just decided that you’re absolutely not going there, no matter how amazing it’d be.
I snatched up the paper, used it to fan my flushed face, and then smoothed it out and focused on the clues again. I studied the other words Linc had filled in and wondered how he knew so much random trivia. The sports clues were a given, but a few of his answers I didn’t know, even as I looked at them. I did fill in another across clue, though, which turned our—er, his—TS to TSK. It took me a moment and then I got it. Tsk, tsk. But no space or comma, because crossword puzzles ignored basic grammar principles. Talk about for shame.
Before I lost more time to the crossword puzzle, I flipped to the events section. When Linc came back over, I pointed. “There’s a book event with multiple authors this Wednesday. What better place to meet smart, hopefully single guys, right?”
He glanced at it. “I’m in.”
“I got the stupid answer for ten, by the way.” I showed it to him and he placed his hand over mine, his warm palm soaking heat into my skin and making a tingle work its way up my arm.
“You’re the best,” he said.
I was the best, but I pulled my hand away, deciding it was time to review my list and steps before I lost my mind and ended up screwed over by the guy who’d already done it to me once before.
Chapter Twelve
I pushed into the bookstore and sighed in relief as the icy-cool air-conditioned breeze hit me. With the frequent rainstorms that kept the last month cooler gone, the temperature hovered at the too-hot-to-fully-breathe point, with enough humidity to double the size of my hair.
My thighs still burned from my run in the park with Ivy, my legs more Jell-O than muscle. I worried we’d have an awkward meeting with Wade, but the most awkward part of our jog had been the way we ended up gasping for air and drenched in sweat. I wasn’t sure if that made me lucky, but I’d take it anyway. I’d showered and changed into my dressy jeans, ruffled sleeveless top, and ballet flats—Jell-O legs and heels were just an accident waiting to happen. Plus, I figured the bookstore crowd would be a little more low-key than the art show.
I moved past the café area and magazines, into the heart of the store. Several rows of chairs lined the floor in front of a table with three microphones, along with a sign about the event. A few people sat next to friends, ready for the signing, even though the authors weren’t there yet, but Linc wasn’t among the crowd.
I tipped onto my toes and scanned the expansive bookstore. I didn’t realize this location was so big. Guess we should’ve agreed on an exact location to meet instead of a vague, meet-at-the-store plan.
If nothing else, we’d find each other for the signing. I wandered through the shelves, occasionally picking up a book, and found Linc in—big surprise—the Sports section. One hand held an open book, the other braced against a shelf in a way that emphasized the muscles in his arm, and his eyebrows were adorably scrunched. The entire image made my stomach do a somersault. Because it was obviously a traitor.
Friends. That’s all we are, and all we’ll ever be, so get it together.
He glanced my way and did a double take. “Savannah Gamble.”
A thread of heat stitched its way through me at the warmth in his voice, but I played it cool, offering a small smile. “Lincoln Wells.”
He closed the book and slid it into the open slot in front of him. “Recover from the other night?”
“Of course,” I said, casually leaning my hip against the shelves. “The darkest nights produce the brightest stars.”
He gave me that crinkled forehead look he liked to pull out whenever I spouted off one of my inspirational quotes.
“Not that it was a super-dark night or anything,” I added, not wanting him to think I’d been crushed by someone like Wade—those guys were a penny a dozen, completely unworthy of tears or a second thought, although they were a good excuse to have an extra drink or two. “Nothing to recover from, really—I didn’t even have a hangover after, so it was a bad-date-night miracle.”
“No, that was your bartender using the perfect amount of alcohol. Maybe you should reconsider your ban on guys who mix drinks.” He flashed me a wide grin, and I shook my head. It was like he couldn’t help flirting, even when he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship—at least he admitted to that the other night at the bar. Well, by using all hypotheticals. Same difference.
“Speaking of jobs, how’s your one at the baseball camp going? You haven’t said much about it.”
Linc’s expression changed, lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “It’s so much fun. I get to do drills and yell—all the coach-type things I used to hate hearing, but love barking at the players as they’re running.”
“So you’re saying that torturing kids makes you happy.”
“Shaping kids’ futures, you mean.” He bumped his shoulder into mine and his grin widened. “Don’t worry, my pep talks are as impressive as my suck-it-up and kick-it-into-gear ones.” As we walked out of the sports aisle, Linc put his hand on the small of my back.
My tingling skin screamed for me to lean closer and soak it in, because apparently it was conspiring with my traitorous stomach. But then I remembered Step Five and taking control. Remembered my list of qualities I wanted in a man, and the fact that “Trust” held the number one spot. After Linc left me heartbroken, that stupid note and no other explanation, I’d never trust him with my heart again—it was the part of me that would stay strong.
It thumped as if to say it was up for the challenge. So I stepped out of Linc’s reach and spun around to face him, refocusing on tonight’s mission. “Did you meet any single women here yet? Or see any cute single guys strolling around? I’m really hoping it turns out to be more successful than the art show. The jazz club was actually fairly successful.” In the scoping places filled with singles department, anyway.
Which reminded me that I forgot to call Andrew back. Oops. Since it’d been four days, it should be a call instead of a simple text, too, dang it. Who knew? Maybe without the pressure of being face-to-face he’d be more relaxed.
“I haven’t really looked,” Linc said, bringing me back to the here and now. “The first single woman I’ve run into is you.” His gaze started to run down me, the charming smile slowly taking shape.
“Well, that’s disappointing,” I said before he could deliver a flirty line he didn’t mean to follow up on. Lately I’d let my shield slip too much, and being the same delusional girl I’d been in college would only end in tears. “Maybe people are just heading straight to the author event.”
I quickened my stride, sights set on the signing area. The seats had filled in some—about halfway—and the authors were taking their places as one of the bookstore employees tested microphones. I took an aisle seat on the third to last row to give me a good view of the crowd.
Linc scooted past, his thighs bumping my knees, and sat next to me. I crossed my legs to point away from him—because apparently my skin couldn’t handle even tiny accidental brushes without goose bumps forming, shield up or not—and watched people stream in, noting the groupings and the body language. By the time the event started, only a handful of empty seats remained.
Go, Atlanta peeps, for so many of you turning up for an event like this. There seemed to be a good mix of men and women, too. Some couples, but for the most part, groups of friends and several solo attendees.
Obviously there wasn’t much chance to meet and greet while the authors read excerpts and answered questions, but I could see the potential for afterward—I even caught some subtle and not-so-subtle checking out going on.
Just when I was in the middle of mentally setting up a guy from row two and the girl three seats down, Linc raised his hand.
The moderator pointed at him and he shifted forward in his seat. “Yeah, I wondered how you guys got started writing? What your background was, and if it was something you always
knew you wanted to do?”
The question surprised me enough that I couldn’t help watching Linc’s reaction to their answers more than listening to what they said—mostly nodding, with the occasional eyebrow crinkle or quirk of his mouth.
After a few more questions, the moderator announced they could only take two more. Once that was done, people clapped and then lined up to talk to the authors and get books signed.
“I’m going to go mingle,” I said to Linc. “See what I can find out.”
He stopped me with a hand on my elbow. “Want one of the books? I’ll stand in line and get it signed so you can do your research.”
I hesitated. Why was he making such a nice offer? And why was I getting ready to overanalyze it and turn it into something it wasn’t? “The spy thriller sounded interesting.”
“I thought so, too. We should read it and have our own book club.”
“Book clubs are actually listed as one of the ways to meet singles, so that’s a good idea. We’d need to join a big group, of course. And find time to read, which is tricky while I’m busy with my workshop and clients, but I can fit it in—you can read it first, and by the time you’re done, I should have more time.”
He gave me a funny look and then slowly nodded. “Sure. Works for me.”
“Cool, thanks.” Wow, that really is generous of him, especially with how long that line is. My throat went dry when I remembered that “generous” was on my list of traits I wanted in a guy…
But that didn’t matter, because of the trust thing, which was still the most important. Before I said more, like, “Forget my research. I’d rather stand in line with you,” I decided to extricate myself.
People stood around in small groups, not mingling as much as I’d hoped. I supposed most readers tended to be introverts, so if I added this to my list, I’d encourage women to step out of their comfort zones. I used to be a bit on the shy side, but public speaking and instructing people how to date made me get over that quickly. Sometimes you simply needed to act more confident than you felt, and once you introduced yourself and started talking, real confidence seeped in and replaced the nerves.
Between that pep talk and emphasizing we were talking about landing smart guys who read, I knew I could make it work. I just needed proof of singledom first.
I approached three guys and kept my smile more on the low-key, demure side, so I wouldn’t scare them away if they were part of the introverted or shy crowd. “Great event, right?”
They nodded, and it took a bit of effort, but eventually I got them talking. One was a writer himself, which was a big reason he’d come. My gaze accidentally moved to Linc as I wondered what’d made him ask about writing. Then I got right back to the task at hand and kept the small talk going.
One guy was married; the other two were single. I didn’t feel a spark with either, but stuck them on the good possibilities for the women of Atlanta side. I moved on to a guy still seated, with no one around him, and found out he personally knew one of the authors. He kept checking his phone, so he obviously felt as little connection to me as I did to him. Didn’t mean another single gal wouldn’t catch his eye under the same circumstances.
By the time I worked the rest of the signing area, I decided that while it wasn’t the holy grail of single guys, it had potential. It’d probably make my list, but toward the bottom.
When I glanced around for Linc, I found him talking to a blonde in a tiny dress who must not’ve had Jell-O legs, because she’d worn super tall heels.
Figures. I was about to leave him to it, but then his eyes met mine, and they seemed to be shouting for me to save him. He even tugged on his ear. I was fairly certain Ivy wouldn’t have revealed our bailout sign, and his looked to be more of a baseball signal actually. Um, which pitch do you want me to throw, coach? Or am I supposed to be stealing a base?
I approached and Linc immediately wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Do you remember Savannah?”
The woman spared me a quick glance, her eyes reluctant to leave Linc. Then recognition flashed and I stood there, trying to place her but coming up blank. Since I prided myself on being good with faces, it bothered me I didn’t get so much as a glimmer of an idea who she was.
“How cute,” she said, puckering her lips. “You two are still friends after all these years.”
Cute? Still friends? A surge of jealousy mixed in with the confusion, which only confused me more. What did I care what this girl thought? Linc had basically pleaded for me to rescue him. The look she gave him and her body language suggested an edge of intimacy, though. It grated at my nerves, like a cat petted the wrong way, and my claws wanted to come out.
“Do you remember Temperance?” Linc asked. “She went to GSU the same time we did.”
Temperance put her hand on Linc’s biceps, the tips of her French manicure contrasting his tan skin. “I cheered for the football team, and Linc and I dated.”
“Oh,” I said, and I hated how fast my jealousy grew, fangs now joining the claws. I thought he didn’t date in college. I loved how she made sure to work in she was a cheerleader, too, bless her heart.
“I met you one day on campus,” she continued. “At first I thought Linc was cheating on me, but he explained that you guys were just friends.” A passive aggressive bite entered her too-wide smile. “Anyway, it was so good running into you. Linc…”
Temperance pulled out a card that showed she was now a makeup consultant—that explained the five layers of mascara that’d reduced her lashes to black clumps, her only sorta flaw on a perfect face. “Give me a call sometime and we can catch up.”
She purred the last line at him, making it clear that by catching up, she meant while naked.
Linc shoved the card in his pocket and pulled me away from her. He handed me the spy thriller. “Open it.”
I did as instructed and saw that it was signed to both of us. Before running into Temperance, I would’ve given an aww over the gesture, probably even taken it as a sign that maybe someday he’d be in a place he could commit. Not to me, of course—I knew better. I was just a friend, after all.
Still, it was a nice gesture—and okay, it was possible the fact that she’d had what I wanted from him in college was making me irritable. So I said, “That’s really cool. Thanks.”
“How was the crowd?” he asked. “Did this place get your dating guru seal of approval?”
“I think it’ll make the list. There were a lot of single women, too, right?” I looked him in the eye, trying to show how okay I was with that, but my teeth locked together after that last word. If I couldn’t deal with him having had a past relationship, how was I going to manage seeing him with any woman without the envy eating me alive? “So win-win for both sides?”
“I guess.”
I bobbed my head. “Great. I’ll definitely add that to my notes, then. Speaking of work, I’m meeting with one of my clients early tomorrow, so I better get going.”
“Already? I thought we could grab dinner.”
I barely bit back that he should go ask Temperance for dinner, because she clearly had lots of time for him. But that wouldn’t be a friends’ thing to do. Plus then he might do it, and I’d hate myself for suggesting it.
Okay, that’s extremely unlikely considering how much he clearly wanted to get away from her. That made me feel better for about half a second, but then years of training automatically kicked in, spinning the situation another way. Blowing her off despite their past could be a sign that Linc hadn’t changed his ways.
Either way, I wasn’t going to hug a lion. Or pretend he’d changed, as it were.
Linc was the alluring player type I taught against in my workshop, occasional generous gesture or not. So I drew another line in the sand, internally reinforcing the need not to cross it. “I need to call Andrew, too. Unlike Wade, he didn’t turn out to be a jerk, so yay for one good date.”
Linc slowed to a stop. “I think I’m going to go back and grab that book I had my eye
on earlier, then.”
I held out the signed and personalized thriller, but he pushed the novel back toward me. “You take it,” he said. “I’ll be busy with my other book for a while, and I want you to have it in case you get time to read.”
Instead of having a reverse tug of war, I gave in and hugged it to my chest. I turned to go, and Linc said, “Hey, Savannah? Keep Friday open. I’ve got an event for your project. I guarantee it’ll be a great place to meet single guys, and even better, you’ll have a blast.”
Admittedly, my curiosity was piqued, but I decided it was probably for the best if we slowed our hangouts. At least until I got my jealous mood swings and attraction vibes under control. “You know, this week is crazy, and Andrew and I might—”
“No excuses, Gamble. I’ll pick you up at four.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Since you’ve helped me fix up my profile,” Abigail said, spinning her laptop toward me, “I’m getting way more interest.”
I moved our Daily Grind cups out of the way to avoid any accidental laptop baptizing and leaned closer to the screen.
Abigail blew at her bangs even though they were no longer in her eyes. “I’ve also been chatting with a few guys, and it’s going…really well, surprisingly enough. One suggested meeting up, but the thought gives me hives.” She scratched at her neck, like they were forming from simply talking about it.
I studied the pictures of the two guys she’d chatted with most. “Both of these guys are super cute.”
“That’s the problem.”
I gave her my knock-off-that-doubting-nonsense look. “You’re cute, too, so it’s not a problem.”
“It is when I go to talk and all that comes out is idiot.” Abigail slumped back in her chair and her glasses slid down her nose. “What am I supposed to do? Seduce them with my awkwardness?”