She shrugged. “A week. Maybe a few. I think a month now.”
“Do you know why?”
Kennedy glared. “Are you taking Arilyn’s place today? Geez, why are you on my case? I’ve been busy.”
Kate stretched out her legs and crossed her ankles. “Bullshit. I can’t remember the last time you didn’t have a date on the weekend. You get nuts if you don’t have a man chomping at your ass, but it seems you’ve been putting all your energy into Rocket Scientist Man.”
“Aerospace engineer.”
Kate lifted a brow. “Do you want him for yourself?”
“No! No, absolutely not. I’ve just been going through a funk, but I’m over it now. I think you’re right, it’s been too long without a man. I need to focus on my love life now, and get things revved up.”
A small, secret smile tugged at her friend’s lips. As if she knew something delicious but was keeping it to herself. “I’m sure you will.”
Kennedy crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What’s up? You know something and you better tell me.”
Kate finished her Bailey’s and stood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll invite Gen over for coffee this week. You should come, too.” Her hand paused on the knob and she looked back. “Do what makes you happy. You deserve it.”
Kennedy stared at the closed door. What the hell was that about? She was happy. She did anything and everything that made her happy. She knew she deserved happiness; that was the first rule of therapy. Believe that you deserve good things and they will happen.
She believed.
Ken grabbed her iPhone and scrolled through her contacts. Time to reconnect with the land of the sexual living again and get even happier. She paused on the name and thought about it. Possible. Derek was hot, and she’d met him at the big expo when representing Kinnections. He was a power suit, loved the good life, and seemed interested. They’d conversed, flirted, and exchanged numbers, but she had never followed through. Got too busy.
Not anymore.
She hit the Compose message button and texted him. God, she loved the technical era. No more awkward phone calls and trying to figure out voice inflections. Just a simple “Wanna get together?” and a quick exchange of information.
His answer didn’t take long. In a matter of fifteen minutes, she set herself up with a date that night.
It was official.
She was back.
NATE ESCORTED SUE INTO the bungalow and wondered why his brain screamed the move was a mistake. Dinner was nice. Sure, he spilled some Pinot Noir on his brand-new J.Crew shirt, but she’d wanted to get a bottle and he hated to tell her he preferred microbrews or a cracked-up martini. She eased through the menu like an expert, ordering wine pairings with each course, which was really classy. Conversation flowed organically. Her father’s scientific background set her up nicely to understand Nate’s job, and though she didn’t seem very interested, at least she understood the nuances. She also loved golf. She was good at the sport, though a little stiff and too stuck on the rules without appreciating the touches of grace and beauty that made it a truly great game. Her swing was technically perfect but didn’t have the natural ability and exuberance that Kennedy’s had exhibited.
Not that he was thinking of Kennedy.
Sue was available. She’d made it clear she was seeking out a long-term relationship and was interested in marriage, children, and settling down. She appreciated his career and agreed one parent should quit his or her job to raise children. Of course, he’d changed his mind on that topic since starting with Kinnections. After all, Kennedy would probably be an incredible mother and would never give up her career. Another ridiculous opinion from Connor that had just stuck in his psyche. He reminded himself to stop thinking about Kennedy and focus on Sue. She was a Republican, believed in charitable works, and was truly an intellectual.
Her gaze swept across the tiny space filled with charm, and a frown settled on her brow. “Charming,” she said brightly, walking from room to room. “This is temporary though, correct? You just moved out of your brother’s house, so this is what you would call your transitional living quarters. Correct?”
Her habit of using the word correct like a question annoyed him a bit. Much better than slang or cursing though. He headed toward the kitchen to brew some coffee. “Yes, I decided to give us some space. I’m happy here for now.”
“When you finally do buy, are you thinking Manhattan? Verily is a sweet place, but the best schools and culture are in the city.”
“Maybe.” He always believed he’d settle in the city, but lately he’d gotten used to the small river town. Better to leave his options open, especially since Sue had powerful leadership qualities and liked to forge ahead with a plan. He noticed that whether it be golf, dinner, or a phone call, she liked scheduling. Which was great, because so did he.
She gave a wry laugh and took a seat on the ocean blue sofa. “I’m sorry, I tend to race ahead of myself. I swear I’m not one of these women who froze their eggs and already have us picking out china.”
He relaxed, pushed the button on the coffeemaker, and grinned. “It’s okay. I’m a little regulated myself. One recognizes the other.” He settled beside her and left a respectable distance between them. He’d kissed her a few times, but they were more like polite, can-I-go-any-further-without-getting-slapped type of inquiries. The embrace was not full of crazed passion, but it was extremely pleasant. With her curly brown hair, petite frame, and serious dark eyes, she was pleasing to the eye, well groomed, and considered a true catch for someone of his stature.
Nate wondered why he kept mentally cataloging her assets like an online dating site.
“Thanks again for dinner,” she said softly. “I had a wonderful time. It’s been a while since I’ve been comfortable with a man. I feel like you really understand and respect me.”
“I do. It was nice.”
“I know it’s a bit soon, but I wanted to ask if you’d accompany me to a charity ball next weekend. My father does a lot of research work, like you, and it’s taking place at the Museum of Natural History. Are you interested?”
The idea of formal clothes, stilted conversation, and an endless evening of dried-up crab cakes drifted past his vision. But this was what he wanted, right? Real stuff. Parties and social events with a date was part of the package. “Sure. Sounds fun.”