at your house. I won't pretend I'm not curious."
"James told you, huh?"
Lynn nodded.
"There isn't much to tell," she said, downplaying what had turned out to be a serious upset to her always precariously balanced psyche. "His name is Quinn Ramsay. Grace and I met him in town. He came into the store and asked me to go bike riding with him. I went."
"You went bike riding? With a man. You, Emily Welland, on a bike? That's big."
Lynn laughed and Emily joined her. "Yes, I went biking, and I've got the sore tailbone to prove it." She paused. "And tomorrow I'm going on a hike."
"Okay, this is getting even bigger." Lynn turned to look at her full on. "Quinn, huh? Obviously he's not a local."
Emily threw another stone in the water, continuing to stare into the dark, widening ripple. Lynn was right this thing with Quinn was getting bigger. As in second date bigger. Which, when she thought about it, had her panic meter topping out.
Lynn snapped two fingers in front of her eyes. "Earth to Emily, are you with me?"
"I'm here." She turned to look at her friend, then without warning, her eyes brimmed with tears. "I'm scared, Lynn. No. Not scared. More like petrified. He kind of... blinds me, you know. He's so sure of himself, so... dynamic. So, I don't know, worldly, I guess."
"And that's bad? Sounds to me like he's exactly what you need."
"What I need? Maybe. But what about him? He needs a twenty-seven-year-old almost virgin like he needs a tax audit. You know what I'm like with men. I haven't got it. Whatever that elusive it is. He's way out of my league."
"Stop it—right now! There's not a man on this planet who's 'out of your league,' as you put it." Lynn's expression was equal parts frustration and sympathy. "You're not still carrying around that stupid Bill Davis baggage, are you? That guy was a mistake. Big time. And the relationship was wrong for both of you. What happened wasn't your fault. I don't understand why you can't see that."
"And Peter? Are you going to tell me he was a mistake, too."
"Yes, I am. The classic ricochet romance. You didn't care about him, and he didn't care about you. You told me that yourself. What did you expect? Moonlight and roses?" Lynn's words and tone bordered on motherly-stern.
Emily, her mind in rebellion, didn't answer. Instead she picked up a handful of sand, watched it sift through her fingers. The sands of time. Time heals all wounds. Killing time. Time waits for no one. Time flies...
The sand dust, caught an edge of moonlight, and gave off a faint gray shine. Her stare became vacant. She didn't want to believe Lynn was right—that she was that idiotic a dreamer.
When she didn't speak, Lynn did. "This quitting thing, you've got going on. It's not you, you know. Not who you are. And it doesn't make sense to cut yourself off from life because of a couple of bad experiences years ago." Lynn's voice lost its maternal edge and filled up with friendship and concern.
She let the sand go, brushed off her hands. Brush off time... "Maybe, but it's tough to accept that I went with a healthy, red-blooded young man for three years, and he didn't want me. That I couldn't attract him... in a physical way." Her smile was weak. "But I'll admit you're right about Peter. He was a kind of a... sexual test. But Bill." She stopped, swallowed another piece of her old hurt. "I loved Bill, and I thought he loved me. Thought he wanted me."
"Who says Bill was healthy and red-blooded? Maybe he wasn't. Did you ever think of that? Anyway, you were, what, seventeen, when you started going with him? You told me yourself you were always incredibly shy—that he was your first and only boyfriend. Besides, not every guy out there is a sex machine, you know. There's no one-sex-drive fits all rule. After all this time, you must understand that."
She gave a vague nod. She understood, all right. But understanding hadn't brought acceptance.
The memory of that last night with Bill was still raw. Still painful. It
"James told you, huh?"
Lynn nodded.
"There isn't much to tell," she said, downplaying what had turned out to be a serious upset to her always precariously balanced psyche. "His name is Quinn Ramsay. Grace and I met him in town. He came into the store and asked me to go bike riding with him. I went."
"You went bike riding? With a man. You, Emily Welland, on a bike? That's big."
Lynn laughed and Emily joined her. "Yes, I went biking, and I've got the sore tailbone to prove it." She paused. "And tomorrow I'm going on a hike."
"Okay, this is getting even bigger." Lynn turned to look at her full on. "Quinn, huh? Obviously he's not a local."
Emily threw another stone in the water, continuing to stare into the dark, widening ripple. Lynn was right this thing with Quinn was getting bigger. As in second date bigger. Which, when she thought about it, had her panic meter topping out.
Lynn snapped two fingers in front of her eyes. "Earth to Emily, are you with me?"
"I'm here." She turned to look at her friend, then without warning, her eyes brimmed with tears. "I'm scared, Lynn. No. Not scared. More like petrified. He kind of... blinds me, you know. He's so sure of himself, so... dynamic. So, I don't know, worldly, I guess."
"And that's bad? Sounds to me like he's exactly what you need."
"What I need? Maybe. But what about him? He needs a twenty-seven-year-old almost virgin like he needs a tax audit. You know what I'm like with men. I haven't got it. Whatever that elusive it is. He's way out of my league."
"Stop it—right now! There's not a man on this planet who's 'out of your league,' as you put it." Lynn's expression was equal parts frustration and sympathy. "You're not still carrying around that stupid Bill Davis baggage, are you? That guy was a mistake. Big time. And the relationship was wrong for both of you. What happened wasn't your fault. I don't understand why you can't see that."
"And Peter? Are you going to tell me he was a mistake, too."
"Yes, I am. The classic ricochet romance. You didn't care about him, and he didn't care about you. You told me that yourself. What did you expect? Moonlight and roses?" Lynn's words and tone bordered on motherly-stern.
Emily, her mind in rebellion, didn't answer. Instead she picked up a handful of sand, watched it sift through her fingers. The sands of time. Time heals all wounds. Killing time. Time waits for no one. Time flies...
The sand dust, caught an edge of moonlight, and gave off a faint gray shine. Her stare became vacant. She didn't want to believe Lynn was right—that she was that idiotic a dreamer.
When she didn't speak, Lynn did. "This quitting thing, you've got going on. It's not you, you know. Not who you are. And it doesn't make sense to cut yourself off from life because of a couple of bad experiences years ago." Lynn's voice lost its maternal edge and filled up with friendship and concern.
She let the sand go, brushed off her hands. Brush off time... "Maybe, but it's tough to accept that I went with a healthy, red-blooded young man for three years, and he didn't want me. That I couldn't attract him... in a physical way." Her smile was weak. "But I'll admit you're right about Peter. He was a kind of a... sexual test. But Bill." She stopped, swallowed another piece of her old hurt. "I loved Bill, and I thought he loved me. Thought he wanted me."
"Who says Bill was healthy and red-blooded? Maybe he wasn't. Did you ever think of that? Anyway, you were, what, seventeen, when you started going with him? You told me yourself you were always incredibly shy—that he was your first and only boyfriend. Besides, not every guy out there is a sex machine, you know. There's no one-sex-drive fits all rule. After all this time, you must understand that."
She gave a vague nod. She understood, all right. But understanding hadn't brought acceptance.
The memory of that last night with Bill was still raw. Still painful. It
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