hadn’t done spontaneously in a long time.
“It’s my night to relax, watch a movie or read until late, and sleep in the next morning.”
“Can we change it up this week? How about going out to dinner with me? I’ll let you pick the restaurant.”
Taffeta squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Barney, but I’m not in the market for a relationship.”
He chuckled. “I’m not asking for a relationship. I’m just asking you out on a date. Big difference.”
Taffeta shook her head, determined to get rid of him before she did something she’d regret. Building a life here so she might one day get Sarah back was all that she should focus on. “I have a no-dating rule, and I never make exceptions.”
He cocked his head to study her. She had the eerie feeling that he saw far more in her eyes than she wished to reveal. “Is it too soon after your divorce?”
Taffeta nearly grimaced. Her marriage to Phillip had been a disaster from start to finish. Even so, she grabbed at the excuse the way a rock climber might a well-anchored rope. “Yes, that’s exactly it. It was a messy ending, and I’m still packing a lot of baggage.”
He shrugged and smiled, taking the rejection with good grace. Then he stepped over to jot something down on the notepad by the register. “My cell number,” he said. “If you ever change your mind about the no-dating rule, give me a call.”
She stared after him as he exited her shop. When he reached the sidewalk, which was finally free of ice, she feasted her eyes on him, admiring the fluid strength of his body, the sure way he stepped, and the rhythmic swing of his arms. She wanted to run outside and call him back. Everything about him felt so right, so absolutely
right
.
Depression dogged Taffeta all that day and intothe lonely evening. Would he take no as truly meaning no, and not return? Did she even want him to return? Well, okay, she wanted him to, but only if he discussed impersonal subjects and didn’t ask her out. She found herself blinking back unwanted tears. Would she never have a normal life? She’d been deprived of that during her childhood, and then, during her marriage, things had gone from bad to much worse.
Later that night, Taffeta lay in bed with her light on so she could fall asleep staring at her daughter’s photograph. What a sweet and beautiful little face. Sarah had Phillip’s brown eyes and Taffeta’s thick dark hair.
The little girl’s image blurred as Taffeta lost her battle against tears. She wrapped her arms around herself. Normally she tried never to cry. But, as Barney said, everyone had to sin a little sometimes. She wept until she fell into an exhausted sleep.
• • •
Barney didn’t usually drink alone, but that night he indulged in three beers, guzzling one right after another. He couldn’t get Taffeta Brown off his mind. He felt as if he’d had something possibly wonderful right at his fingertips, and then she had put the kibosh on it. All the signals from her had been promising. She’d been hesitant and wary at first, but then she’d started to relax, allowing him glimpses of who she really was. He’d seen nothing about her that he didn’t like—a
lot
. He didn’t get why she wasn’t at least willing to explore the possibilities with him. He sensed that she felt the incredibly special connectionbuilding between them. Why did she insist on turning her back on it?
Barney didn’t count himself as being one of the handsomest guys around, but he wasn’t homely, either. He had a respectable job. Taffeta didn’t know that he owned a home, which was also a plus for most women. He had everything lined out to step up to the plate when the right lady came along.
Too soon,
she’d said. With a sigh, he finished off his last beer and made himself accept that she had issues. He knew enough about women to understand that recovering from a divorce wasn’t something you could hurry along. Maybe after a few months, she’d be
“It’s my night to relax, watch a movie or read until late, and sleep in the next morning.”
“Can we change it up this week? How about going out to dinner with me? I’ll let you pick the restaurant.”
Taffeta squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Barney, but I’m not in the market for a relationship.”
He chuckled. “I’m not asking for a relationship. I’m just asking you out on a date. Big difference.”
Taffeta shook her head, determined to get rid of him before she did something she’d regret. Building a life here so she might one day get Sarah back was all that she should focus on. “I have a no-dating rule, and I never make exceptions.”
He cocked his head to study her. She had the eerie feeling that he saw far more in her eyes than she wished to reveal. “Is it too soon after your divorce?”
Taffeta nearly grimaced. Her marriage to Phillip had been a disaster from start to finish. Even so, she grabbed at the excuse the way a rock climber might a well-anchored rope. “Yes, that’s exactly it. It was a messy ending, and I’m still packing a lot of baggage.”
He shrugged and smiled, taking the rejection with good grace. Then he stepped over to jot something down on the notepad by the register. “My cell number,” he said. “If you ever change your mind about the no-dating rule, give me a call.”
She stared after him as he exited her shop. When he reached the sidewalk, which was finally free of ice, she feasted her eyes on him, admiring the fluid strength of his body, the sure way he stepped, and the rhythmic swing of his arms. She wanted to run outside and call him back. Everything about him felt so right, so absolutely
right
.
Depression dogged Taffeta all that day and intothe lonely evening. Would he take no as truly meaning no, and not return? Did she even want him to return? Well, okay, she wanted him to, but only if he discussed impersonal subjects and didn’t ask her out. She found herself blinking back unwanted tears. Would she never have a normal life? She’d been deprived of that during her childhood, and then, during her marriage, things had gone from bad to much worse.
Later that night, Taffeta lay in bed with her light on so she could fall asleep staring at her daughter’s photograph. What a sweet and beautiful little face. Sarah had Phillip’s brown eyes and Taffeta’s thick dark hair.
The little girl’s image blurred as Taffeta lost her battle against tears. She wrapped her arms around herself. Normally she tried never to cry. But, as Barney said, everyone had to sin a little sometimes. She wept until she fell into an exhausted sleep.
• • •
Barney didn’t usually drink alone, but that night he indulged in three beers, guzzling one right after another. He couldn’t get Taffeta Brown off his mind. He felt as if he’d had something possibly wonderful right at his fingertips, and then she had put the kibosh on it. All the signals from her had been promising. She’d been hesitant and wary at first, but then she’d started to relax, allowing him glimpses of who she really was. He’d seen nothing about her that he didn’t like—a
lot
. He didn’t get why she wasn’t at least willing to explore the possibilities with him. He sensed that she felt the incredibly special connectionbuilding between them. Why did she insist on turning her back on it?
Barney didn’t count himself as being one of the handsomest guys around, but he wasn’t homely, either. He had a respectable job. Taffeta didn’t know that he owned a home, which was also a plus for most women. He had everything lined out to step up to the plate when the right lady came along.
Too soon,
she’d said. With a sigh, he finished off his last beer and made himself accept that she had issues. He knew enough about women to understand that recovering from a divorce wasn’t something you could hurry along. Maybe after a few months, she’d be
Similar Books
