Excerpt

Her New Year's Knight

“Darla, darling! You made it!”

Darla adjusted her sensibilities to take in the exuberant atmosphere of her new neighbor’s apartment. Familiar carols boomed out from the living room. The sound of fine crystal clinking and laugher floated out to the hallway from various rooms. She bent, submitted to her petite neighbor’s air kisses and handed the woman a bottle of her favorite Sauvignon Blanc, already chilled.

The elderly woman, Maureen, tittered, a long necklace of tiny, multi-colored holiday bells jingling around her neck. Her equally festive, beribboned miniature poodle danced and yapped excitedly about her feet. Maureen latched possessively onto Darla’s arm.

“You didn’t need to bring anything but yourself, dear. But thank you. You know it’s my favorite.”

She paused, looked Darla up and down critically before nodding in satisfaction. Darla wore a red knit dress that snuggly hugged her curves, a dress she braved wearing only because Maureen had insisted on it the day before when she’d popped by to invite her to tonight’s party. When she’d tried to decline the invitation on the grounds that she had nothing to wear to a Christmas party, Maureen had sailed into her bedroom, quickly sorted through her closet and had pulled out the brightly-colored knit dress triumphantly.

Darla found it impossible to say no to the kind-hearted busybody, even though she knew the dress currently fit a little too tightly across her chest and hips. At twenty-six, her long-awaited womanly curves had delayed their arrival until last year. Four years ago, when she’d worn the dress last, it had hung modestly over her slender body, like a deflated balloon. Throughout high school and college, she’d still been plagued with a body most unflatteringly called scrawny, scarecrow, anorexic, stick-thin, and skin and bones.

Tonight though, she feared the clingy dress made her look like she’d suited up for the evening escort business. The only thing saving the dress from being completely slutty was the mock turtleneck covering her to her throat, the three quarter length sleeves, and the hemline modestly skirting the tops of her knee-high boots. Fortunately, most of Maureen’s old Hollywood movie friends would be over seventy so, at most, she’d give the elderly men a little thrill or two. No risk in that, right?

“Now,” her new friend said, tucking the wine bottle carelessly under one arm and gesturing to two baskets on the entry table, “What’s it going to be? Jingle bell necklace or Santa hat?

Darla considered her options. The flannel hat would be too much for the warm, crowded apartment and would eventually flatten her dark hair into helmet head.

“Bells, I guess.”

To please the elderly lady, she plopped a strand over her head, doubling it when it proved to be longer than she expected. Maureen fussed over her hair, tucking one side behind her ear. The sleek, dark locks against her pale skin highlighted Darla’s widow’s peak, framing her heart-shaped face.

“I’m glad you aren’t looking so tired tonight. You’re awfully wan-looking though. Do you want to borrow some lipstick? I’ve got a red that would match your dress perfectly.”

She would look washed-out against Maureen’s brightly rouged cheeks. She suspected the woman wore stage make-up for everyday life. It was immaculately applied though. And for a senior citizen, the woman was still remarkably beautiful.

“I don’t really wear lipstick much, but thank you. And I actually slept eight hours last night. No clients today.”

“Good. It’s the holiday. People shouldn’t be working. And tonight could go late for you.”

She winked meaningfully at Darla. Uh oh.

“The holidays are why I’ve been working long hours. I’m a psychologist and depression is rampant this time of the year.”

“How can you sit and listen to people’s problems all day? It amazes me. So depressing! All the more reason to have someone wonderful to come home to afterwards, dear.”

“You don’t come home to anyone except Princess,” Darla teased her new friend.

“Pshaw. I’m old. I’ve had my share of handsome men, honey. I was a Hollywood actress, you know. And believe me, Princess is great company for an old gal. But you—you’re too young to substitute a dog for a healthy young man.”

“I didn’t realize there was much difference between guys and dogs,” Darla muttered under her breath. She’d signed off men more than a year ago when the last one turned out to need alcohol even more than her father had. She was resigned to only attracting narcissistic alcoholics. It must be tattooed on her forehead. Codependent. All addicts welcome. She didn’t anticipate that ever changing. She turned to follow Maureen and warily noted once again the determined look on her neighbor’s face as she marched Darla into the kitchen.

“We’ll just put this wine in to chill some more and then I have someone for you to meet.”

“Maureen,” she chided, holding back. “Not another one. We’ve discussed this.”

In the past month, ever since she’d moved into the apartment across the walkway, Maureen had tried to set her up on dates, including with three with men who lived in the complex. A big no-no in Darla’s book, since that kind of proximity would make for awkward run-ins later, after she determine the man was unsuitable, or he found her to be too cold, too reserved, too…frigid. A previous boyfriend had told her that her reserved nature was the equivalent to her being an ice queen in bed. She’d managed to dodge all of Maureen’s efforts.

“This one is special.”

Darla groaned. “That’s what you’ve said every time.”

“I mean it this time. In fact, I can’t believe I didn’t think of Jake when I first met you. He’s here tonight with his father instead at his mother’s in San Diego. I’m losing my touch. Jake Knight is my second cousin’s nephew. Good-looking young man. Hunky.”

“I should have guessed,” Darla groaned. She glanced down at her outfit. The dress was clingy in all the ways to catch a man’s attention. She looked like a woman on the make for a man. She should return to her apartment and change immediately but Maureen was already dragging her towards the main room.

With a resigned sigh and suppressing an overwhelming desire to turn tail and run back across the hall to put on a less revealing dress, Darla let herself be led into the living room. She decided that the universe had definitely sent Maureen into her life to teach her to learn to say no and mean it. She’d been constantly tested by the determined woman. Darla smiled. Too bad for Maureen that she was such an excellent test-taker.

At well over six feet, Jake Knight was impossible to miss. Standing near a brightly twinkling tree, he towered over the geriatric, arthritic senior citizens clustered around him, his Santa hat set at a cocky angle on his curly, pale blond head. He was smiling, laughing at something a blue-haired woman told him and his happy chuckle vibrated across the room and played itself down Darla’s spine. Then he turned to look her way, and his dark espresso brown eyes sparked with interest. Her nipples instantly hardened. And predictably, for a guy anyway, his gaze zeroed right in on them.