“Jake Davis? With a crush? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. He’s so...”
“Yes, he has that strong, silent thing going, but he could barely tear his eyes away to acknowledge me.”
Lauren glanced at Sophie’s button-down blouse. It was sexy in an understated way, like everything Sophie wore. White and fitted and modest. She showed only the tiniest hint of cleavage. “He’s a man, Sophie. Yours are covered. Mine aren’t.”
“Is it really so hard for you to believe a hot guy wants you?”
Lauren shook her head, not wanting to answer. It was more complicated than that with Jake. Yes, she’d been divorced for a long time, and both she and Steve had very much moved on. But Jake had known Steve longer than Lauren had. They’d gone to junior high together and been teammates on the high school wrestling team. Jake had come to Lauren’s wedding. And Lauren had gone to his. But maybe it wasn’t awkward loyalty to Steve making her hesitate. Maybe it was the memory of sweet Ruth.
Ruth had been the kind of wife and mother who’d always made Lauren feel inferior. She’d been sweet and patient and always smiling. She’d probably never cursed in her life. Or gotten drunk. Or considered going to a bar and picking up a younger man for a meaningless lay.
Yeah. Lauren could never live up to a woman like Ruth. And she couldn’t live up to the cute young things Jake had likely dated in the past year or two.
That was the most pitiful thing of all. She’d always thought she’d had self-confidence, but at forty-three, she no longer relished the idea of getting naked in front of a new man.
Frustration tightened her next breath into a sigh. She was all about positive body image. She thought women of all sizes should be proud of their bodies and their sexuality and the years they’d put in on earth. But somehow it was just too personal when it came to her own naked body. She’d perfected the art of self-induced orgasm long ago, so why rock the boat?
Then again, boat-rocking could be fun. Lauren made herself relax as Sophie drove toward the restaurant they’d chosen for dinner.
“How’s your family?” Lauren asked, hoping to keep the subject off her sex life for a while. “Has your brother gotten a job yet?”
Sophie groaned. “My brother will never get a job. He’s a twenty-six-year-old man-child who helps around the ranch as little as possible and still lets me do his laundry.”
“Then I’m glad you moved into town. You shouldn’t be the family maid.”
“It’s only temporary,” Sophie said immediately. “My dad still needs my help. When my great-uncle realizes he’s not coming home from assis
ted living, he’ll sell his house and I’ll move back to the ranch.”
“Sophie...” Lauren started, but Sophie’s eyes flashed a warning. They’d had this discussion many times. “Fine,” Lauren said. “But someday I’m going to write into Dear Veronica about you. Maybe you’ll listen to her advice.” The new advice column was their favorite part of the local paper, and everyone else’s, judging by the way that section got crumpled and creased in the library’s reading area.
“I don’t need advice,” Sophie countered. “You do.”
“Oh, really?”
Sophie grinned. “My family might be crazy, but my sex life is just fine, thanks.”
“How am I supposed to buy that when you never discuss it?”
“You’ll just have to believe me,” Sophie said, before chirping “We’re here,” as she pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. “Now, let’s go find so much fun that you’ll be writing into Dear Veronica for advice about how to juggle your many admirers.”
That was so ridiculous that Lauren let out a belly laugh as she followed Sophie into the restaurant. The only thing she’d likely be juggling was her collection of vibrators, but Sophie was sweet to be so hopeful.
* * *
“SO YOU’LL BE tucked into bed?” someone said from behind him.
Jake glanced over his shoulder and spotted his future son-in-law watching with a crooked grin. “What?”
“You told them you’d be tucked into bed tonight. Instead of, for example, going to meet two beautiful librarians at the bar they purposefully told you about.”
Jake grunted and crossed his arms, turning back to watch the pickup game.
“Seriously, Pops, you should go to the Crooked R. No doubt.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Kevin repeated, his voice rising a little. “Are you kidding?”