“He’s single. I think.”
Sara shook her head, thinking about the security guard who flirted with her—and every other woman within shouting distance—every morning. “No, thanks. Think I’ll be going to this one solo.”
“No way. I have a much better idea.”
Something about Kim’s sparkling grin made Sara’s skin tingle with nerves. “I get scared when you get ideas.”
“As well you should.” Her grin turned sly. “What about Brad?”
Chapter Two
Sara cleared her throat and crossed her ankles. She couldn’t be more casual if she tried. “What about Brad?”
“You know he’d go. He loves the sanctuary. I brought him last year and he donated a bunch of stuff for the annual auction. Free oil changes, that sort of thing.”
“So you take him and I’ll take your date,” Sara replied. No one would be able to tell she was the least bit vexed by this conversation, she was sure of it. Butter smooth, that was her.
Kim laughed. “Don’t think you and Greg would be a good fit. You and Brad on the other hand—” she wiggled her eyebrows, “—would make the perfect couple.”
Hmm, did she know a Greg? She was terrible about connecting faces with names. Besides, thinking about who Greg might be was way better than considering Brad as her date. Or her potential lover. “Don’t think so.” Sara’s breathing quickened, but she did her best to stay relaxed.
If relaxed meant gripping the arms of her chaise as if the chair was all that stood between her and certain death.
“You’re being stubborn. Want me to ask him? He even owns a tux. Cleans up pretty well too.”
Brad and a tux were a recipe for disaster. Naked disaster. “Thanks, but I’m sure I can—”
To her surprise, Kim frowned and waved a hand, cutting her off. “Are you fighting with him? Is that why he’s not here?”
“Of course not. Why would we fight? We have nothing to fight about.” Even Sara thought her laughter sounded forced. Okay, I give in. Wave temptation in a tux in my face. I can take it. “Fine. I’ll ask Brad. He might be busy, but I’ll ask.”
“Good. And I bet he’ll be happy to come.”
Her mind shot into a bad place at that particular statement. She popped to her feet before Kim noticed her constricted expression. A red-blooded woman could only disguise so much.
“We’ll see. But I promise I’ll ask.”
“Great. I think the four of us will have fun.” Kim rose and handed Sara one of the bags of groceries.
The storm clouds had already cleared from Kim’s eyes. She really did just want everyone to get along. To be one big, happy, sexually charged family.
Well, maybe not the last part.
It wasn’t as if Brad lived across town. He slept feet away from her own bed, separated by a few flimsy walls. If they…came together, she’d have to face him every day across the toaster. And she’d be damned if her actions caused her to leave before she was ready.
Sara sighed and juggled the paper sack, noticing the box of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies sticking out of the top. She grinned. Her best friend knew her too well. “It will be fun,” she agreed, renewing her vow not to let anything ruin the good thing she had going.
She could handle Brad O’Halloran.
Brad didn’t check his messages until he returned home later that night. He’d skipped painting the porch—and watching Sara sashay around in next to nothing—in favor of heading down to Harley’s bar. He’d spent most of the evening there, drinking a couple of beers, watching the game. A few times he’d caught women giving him the eye, which upped his mood even if he had no intention of pursuing any of them.
It wasn’t as if he collected phone numbers for rainy days, but he couldn’t say he minded attention occasionally. He knew he wasn’t the most gorgeous guy around. Fine by him. He’d never wanted to be some pretty boy who was afraid to get his hands dirty. He spent every day up to his elbows in grease and didn’t bother with his appearance beyond regular haircuts.
He reached back to brush his fingers over his raggedy ends. Speaking of which, he needed to take care of that soon.
Long hair, car grease, nights spent shooting pool and drinking longnecks. No wonder Sara wouldn’t look at him twice. They were as different as—
He didn’t even have an analogy for how different they were. She would. She always had a smart comeback or a sassy comment. Any guy unprepared around her would be left in the dust.