Swept away in the romantic date she was on, Aleen sipped her wine and smiled. She only frowned when she remembered that it wasn’t her date, and that the young couple would be freaked out if they looked up from their love trance to see her staring adoringly at them.
She had officially become a voyeur.
Aleen checked her phone one more time. Her blind date—the one she had finally agreed to allow Sabrina to set her up on as a last effort at meeting her goals—was fifteen minutes late. Five more minutes and Aleen would scrape her pride off the bottom of the table and bolt.
Could this really be representative of her future? Sipping wine, alone, in a so-so restaurant while watching the romantic antics of a sweet, attractive young couple?
She couldn’t wait the full five minutes. Fifteen minutes late on a first date without even a text to explain? Not cool.
A young waitress paused near her table, one cheek lifted as if her face couldn’t decide how to proceed.
“Are you ready to order, ma’am?” Her voice was hesitant and squeaky.
And she called Aleen “ma’am.”
Aleen finished her glass of wine and shook her head.
“I’ll just take the check, please.”
The girl’s face turned to pity.
“Were you stood up?”
“Yup. Can’t you see the banner over my head? It says, ‘Looking for Love: Only Jerks Need Apply.’”
The waitress chewed her lip.
“That totally sucks. Maybe he got lost.”
Aleen grunted a laugh.
“Yeah. Lost in Healing Springs.”
“Was it a blind date? We get a lot of those in here.”
Aleen nodded, wishing this conversation would end so she could go find something stronger to drink than wine.
“A lot of times with blind dates, the person shows up a little late so he or she can check out the date before going through with the dinner. And then if they don’t like what they see, they leave.”
Aleen’s head popped up and nearly exploded at that off-the-cuff comment.
“Oh, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine. Here. This should cover my glass of wine and the time I took from your other customers.” Aleen dug a twenty out of her purse and handed it to the socially inept waitress.
“Thank you. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“It’s okay. My life offends me, too.”
Aleen smoothed her hair as she tried to disappear from the restaurant without a show.
Her last restaurant date had been so popular, it had been discussed on the town’s online social bulletin board. Not her idea of good publicity.
She had chosen this restaurant for this date because it was low on her list of places she liked to go.
See? She was learning from this thing. Maybe she’d follow Sabrina’s advice and start a blog. She could write about the Dos and Don’ts of Dating when you’re under a deadline.
Aleen wanted nothing more than to go home and hide under her blankets, but she wasn’t ready to face Luke and watch him laugh at her about yet another dating misadventure. She also wasn’t ready for him to try to comfort her.
When had things become so complicated?
Grateful that none of her friends were at Jake’s, she saddled up to the bar and gave Jake the eyes that told him exactly what kind of day she’d had and what kind of drink she needed.
He handed her a shot of Jack Daniels.
“Now here’s a man who will come through for a woman.” She downed the shot as if it were the love of her life.
“Bad day?”
Jake leaned over the bar, bar cloth slung over his exceptionally well-built shoulder, and began his therapeutic treatment.
“You should work at the hospital in my department. You’d be more effective than many of the therapists we have currently.”
His grin deepened and his eyes sparkled. “They won’t let me serve liquor, though. My kind of therapy only works in conjunction with something that burns going down.”
Aleen pushed her shot glass toward him.
Jake raised a brow. “Let’s mix it with some Coke this time. Have you eaten?”
Aleen grumbled.
Jake reached below the bar to retrieve a bowl, which he filled with popcorn. “I’ll put an order in for you. Chicken tenders with extra honey mustard?”
“You know me so well.”
Jake handed her the drink.
“Where’s the old woman tonight?”
“Probably home knitting,” Aleen joked. Jake and Luke had a longstanding quarrel about their lifestyle choices, which were often too similar. “By the way, Jake, since I have you alone… I’ve noticed you haven’t been playing the field lately. Who’s the lucky girl?”
Jake ducked his head, refusing to make eye contact.
“I may be well on my way to a buzz, but I don’t see any spills on that counter you keep scrubbing. Come on. Spill your deets. I won’t tell anyone.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I’ll be back with your food.”
A secret love affair. Sounded divine. And completely out of her reach. Oh wait, she did have those offers of sex as long as she didn’t tell anyone… did that qualify as secret and romantic?
Disgusted, she swirled her fingers in her drink, enjoying the clink of the ice cubes against the glass.
She tried to maintain a grasp on reality.
The doctor had cautioned her about her future ability to bear children—she hadn’t said it was a definite dead end.
The find-a-husband-by-her-thirtieth-birthday may have been a bit of a stretch, but she still had some time, so if she tried harder, it could happen.
Maybe her standards were too high. Not every woman could find their dream guy—but maybe one who met at least a few of her qualifications would do.
Besides, she could adopt. She’d love to adopt. A child, not a man.
The only reason she cared so deeply about giving birth to her own biological child was to carry on her family bloodline.
If she didn’t conceive a child, it would end with her. Both of her parents were only children. She was an only child. Her grandparents were all only children.
She was the only person who could still breed who had her blood. Maybe that wasn’t a huge deal, but her father had drilled the importance of reproduction into her head.
And she was rather attached to the idea.
Besides, she loved the swell of a pregnant belly. She yearned to feel a baby move in her uterus. She craved the anticipation of birth. She had spent her teen years studying childbirth and breastfeeding the way other kids studied fashion and dating.
“Here you go, sweet cheeks.” Jake slid her heart-attack-in-a-basket across the bar.
“Thanks. I probably should have ordered a salad.”
“Don’t be second-guessing your decision now. This will absorb some of the alcohol faster.” Jake winked and grinned.
Why didn’t his wink do anything to her knees and her insides? He was super attractive—some women in town thought he was the hottest guy in New England. She found him a bit too perfect. Like a marble statue—she enjoyed looking at him and often thought about reaching out and touching his sculpted arms, but she didn’t get the tingles.
Aleen downed the rest of her drink.
She was broken. Messed up. Too far gone.
Something was wrong with her, because the only man who had given her the tingles was the man who shouldn’t. She absolutely, positively, stomp-her-feet-affirmatively should not feel this way toward Luke.
She would not cry at the bar. She couldn’t turn into that woman.
She gestured for another drink. Jake brought her a water.
“Um, no thanks.”
“Drink it up. You need to pace yourself.”
“You’re a shitty bartender.”
His smile deepened. “I’ve been called worse. How are you getting home tonight?”
“Eh, I figured I’d pick up one of those guys over there and have him take me.” She surveyed the bar, seeing only gray hair and wedding rings. “Maybe I’ll call a cab.”
“Cab service is out. The one man show has taken an intermission—he’s out for surgery.”
“Seriously?”
“Wouldn’t lie to ya.”
“This town needs to add another taxi driver.”
“I guess we’re lucky to have what we have…”
“Guess I’ll have to sleep here.” She spread her arm out across the bar and used it as a pillow for her head.
Jake chuckled. “Okay, I get it. Trouble at home with the old lady. How long’s he staying there, anyway? Didn’t that little number of his move out weeks ago?”
Aleen sat up straight. “We’re not having any trouble. This is personal.”
“So personal you can’t share it with your best friend. Gotcha.”
“Hey, come back here. Don’t ‘gotcha’ me. He knows all about my woes, but I don’t need to harp on them all the time. I just needed a night out to soothe my poor, self-pitying soul. And yes, she moved out, but he can’t bring himself to go back there. I think he’s ashamed of his decision to let her move in. And if I go straight home, I have to admit that I was stood up and that Luke is more than likely right about my terrible, terrible plan.” Aleen released a long stream of hot breath and a litany of unsaid swears. “Can I please have that drink now?”
Jake nodded and refilled her glass. “This one’s on the house.”
“Cheers.” She downed it in one desperate sip. “What is it about men, Jake? I’m a good person, even if I’m not on the beauty queen track. I’ll make an excellent wife and mother.”
Jake nodded. “You are a beautiful, intelligent woman. I don’t know where you’re getting the idea that you’re less than anyone else, but it’s never a good idea to go into the world of dating thinking that way.”
“I didn’t think that way until my dates pointed out my flaws so flagrantly. Is that the right word? So, so… offensively. So assholey. So arrogantly. Ugh! Please may I have one more drink? One more before the next one, anyway.”
“There are limits to what I can serve you, sweet cheeks. Here, have another glass of water.”
“Okay,” she winced as her words began to slur. “But first I have to pee.”
“You know where the bathroom is.”
She had to admit that the alcohol had rushed to her head quite nicely, giving her a blurry vision of the world and making toileting difficult. As she stumbled her way back to her place at the bar, she nearly turned and ran the other way when she saw Luke sitting in her spot, munching on her chicken tenders.
She glared at Jake, who shrugged and served a customer.
“Don’t you have an early morning and a long day tomorrow, Mister?” She tried to sit on the stool, but it slid from under her. Luke caught her arm before she landed on the ground, then guided her to the stool he had stolen from her.
“I heard there was a damsel in distress, so I saddled up my white horse and came charging to the rescue.”
“I love your mother, but I hate her for reading you so many fairy tales.” Aleen reached out to grab the last chicken tender, grimacing when honey mustard dripped on her shirt. Oh well. She wasn’t looking to impress anyone for the rest of the night.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.”
“I don’t want to go home. I’m just getting started.” She leaned over the bar and waved for Jake. “Hey, Jakey poo! I need a refill, please!”
“Sorry, sweet cheeks. I don’t have anything for you.”
“Don’t be silly. I see the bottles right there.”
He shrugged and shook his head, frowning. “Sorry, kid. You’re shut off.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m a big girl—get it, a big girl?” She burst into laughter, pointing at herself. She cleared her throat and tried to show her maturity. “I can take care of myself.”
“Not tonight, you can’t.” Luke pulled out some bills and tossed them to the other side of the bar so Aleen couldn’t reach them. “Thanks, Jake. I’ve got her from here.”
Jake collected the money and nodded.
“You can’t come in here and pay my bill like I’m some, some…”
“Some what?” Luke asked, humor dancing in his eyes.
“Some, some… I don’t know. Someone who can’t pay her own bill.”
“You can get my drinks next time. And if you keep playing this dating game, I’m going to need a lot of drinks.”
She wondered what he meant, but then she wondered why she had such a hard time remembering whether the door swung in or out on the way out of the lounge.
“My car—”
“We’ll get it in the morning.”
When they arrived home, Aleen tried to show off her ability to walk a straight line. Luke chuckled.
“You’re not very convincing.”
Aleen mocked him with her best taunting voice. “You’re not very convincing.”
“You’re cute when you’re acting like a preteen.”
“Oh yeah?” She grinned and lowered her head, wondering if she looked sexier. “How cute am I when I’m acting like a grown woman?”
She stepped—okay, maybe stumbled was the right word—toward him. His hands brushed her breasts before catching her arms, but that swift touch was enough to make her body shoot up in flames.
She watched his throat bulge as he swallowed.
“Let’s get you inside.”
“I’ve never done it outside before, you know.”
He cleared his throat and turned her around so she faced away from him. She leaned back, looking up at him over her shoulder and doing her best to flirt.
“Inside, you.”
“Inside me?” she purred, intentionally misunderstanding what he was saying.
“Aleen. You’re drunk.”
“And you’re handsome. And I know you want me. I can feel it.” She rubbed her behind against his pants, not surprised to find the erection that kept presenting itself when they were close. Something had changed with them, and maybe she was being stupid to think she could avoid exploring it.
“Stop, Aleen. Let’s go.”
“Let’s come.”
She turned around so her breasts were against his belly, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He immediately grabbed her wrists as if to pull her away, but he stopped for a moment to stare into her drunken and lustful eyes.
“This is a bad idea.”
“No, Lukey. I’ve had bad ideas. This is not one of them.”
His lips hovered near her mouth, and her heartbeat quickened to the point where she wondered if she was having a heart attack. He lowered his head—closer, closer—his breath fanning across her face. When had she last had an orgasm that she hadn’t given herself? She couldn’t remember.
Anticipation nearly drove her mad.
She leaned up, preparing to take the lead and get the kiss she so desperately craved.
Instead, her lips landed on his chin as his lips kissed the tip of her nose.
She bit his chin. Not in a seductive way.
“Hey—that’s taking pinches to a new level.”
“I’ll start signing my correspondence to you with ‘bites.’ If I correspond with you at all.”
She collapsed against his chest, shame finding its way through her drunken state and landing squarely between her eyes.
He hugged her tight, resting his face on the top of her head.
“Aleen, don’t be mad. You have no idea how hard it is to do the right thing.”
“Then don’t do the right thing.”
“I can’t.” He kissed her head. “Not like this.”
Moments passed before the full repercussions hit her.
“I’m going to be forever alone.”
“Don’t be crazy.”
“I’m not. I’m being realistic. It’s okay. I have great friends. And who needs to get pregnant, anyway? I wouldn’t be able to have these reckless nights at Jake’s if I got knocked up and became a mom. So yay! Life is great!”
“Stop.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted for me, Lukey? To accept what I can’t change?”
“I’ve never suggested you give up on your dreams.”
Aleen pulled away and let herself into the house, thankful she didn’t bother locking her doors. Where were her keys, anyway?
“It’s even my name.”
“What is?”
“Aleen. It means ‘alone.’ Forever and painfully alone.”
She slumped onto her couch, kicking off her shoes and stretching her toes.
“No it doesn’t.”
She nodded solemnly. “Yes. It does. Alone. Aleen. Alone. Aleen. Has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”
He whipped his phone out of his back pocket and typed furiously.
“Okay, so you’re partially correct. In some cultures, it means ‘alone.’ But it also means ‘fair’ and ‘good looking,’ which I think are way more accurate descriptions of you.”
“You’re funny, Lukey.”
“Not funny. Honest.”
“But tell me something. Am I asking for too much? I mean, is it so much to hope that I will meet a man who will burn for me? Not passively tolerate me, but who will find love selfish because he can’t breathe when I’m not there? A man who would do anything for me? A man who would look past the fact that I don’t wear a size zero and that I refuse to give up eating food that I like so I can fit into the patriarchal view of what I should look like? A man who would be proud to have me by his side? Seriously, Luke. Am I expecting too much?”
Luke stared at her, dumbfounded. She had stumped even him—her fiercest supporter.
“I’m going to bed. I’m going to allow my brain to reset and pretend this whole evening never happened. Actually, considering the horrible day I had at work, maybe I can convince my subconscious mind to erase the whole week.”
She shuffled to her room, keenly aware of the fact that Luke remained in place, watching her until she closed her bedroom door.