19. Lizzie
NINETEEN
LIZZIE
On Monday morning, Laurel leaned on the reception desk and placed a takeout coffee cup from the Four Cups Café in front of me. “Good morning.” The look on her face was all-knowing and amused.
“Good morning to you too,” I said. “What’s this for?”
“For setting that date up on Saturday. I had a good time.”
A frown tugged my brows as I spun the cup around so I could take a sip. “I see,” I replied. Hadn’t Sean said it was a bust?
When I glanced up at Laurel, her smile had widened. “So do I. A lot of things became clear to me over the course of that dinner.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you set me up on a date with a man who waxed poetic about you half the time.”
I didn’t quite know what to say to that, so I said nothing and took a sip. The coffee was silky and delicious, and my shoulders eased. “Sean and I have known each other a long time,” I finally said.
“Did you ever date?”
I jerked. “Me and him?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He was—is—my brother’s best friend.”
Laurel sipped her own coffee then said, “So?”
“So it’s not like we knew each other that way. I was the annoying little sister. Then he graduated and moved on.”
“And now he’s back.”
“And now he’s back,” I repeated, wrapping both hands around the paper cup to warm them. “Are you trying to tell me something? Because I’m not following.”
“Lizzie, you are too cute.”
Okay, this conversation was beginning to annoy me. I gave her a flat look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m going to spell it out for you.”
I rolled my wrist to motion that she should.
Laurel spoke slowly and deliberately. “Sean is totally into you.”
I leaned back in my chair and frowned at her. The leap in my heart was bad news. “No. No, he’s just an old friend. My brother’s old friend.”
Laurel shrugged a shoulder. “If you say so.”
“I’ve already set him up on a date with the art teacher at my kids’ school.”
She straightened. “And he agreed?”
“Of course. I’m trying to set him up with someone. We have this whole plan to get him a kiss for New Year’s.”
“But…why?”
We stared at each other for a beat. I blinked a few times and shook my head. “Because he asked me to.”
“Did he?”
“Well, not precisely. He was kind of strong-armed into it by my family. But he was willing.”
“Hmm.”
This conversation was going nowhere, and I didn’t like the little bud of hope that had sprouted in my chest when Laurel had said Sean was interested in me. It was impossible. He was a six-foot-something Adonis, and I was the designated mom of every group. We didn’t fit. I just couldn’t see him being into me . Sure, he seemed to notice me a bit more than my family, and he was appreciative of all the time and effort I put in with Mikey, but that was different. I might as well have been the housekeeper who went above and beyond to scrub the range hood filters once in a while. Him noticing and appreciating it didn’t mean he wanted to date me.
Then again, there was the boner. His hard cock had been pressed up against me, and he’d shifted his hips to make sure I felt it. Repeatedly.
But maybe that was just an involuntary reaction thing, like a teenage boy would have. Lord knew most men were like teenage boys in all other respects. Why not this one?
I met Laurel’s eyes and dropped my voice. “Did he get aroused when he was with you?”
She choked on a sip of coffee. “Excuse me?”
“Well, you know—” I gestured to my lap. “Did he?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“Maybe you felt it.”
“What?”
“I’m just asking!”
Laurel burst out laughing. “No. I mean, I can’t be sure, but I would bet my life savings on no.”
“Oh.” I frowned. That didn’t make sense. That would mean that he was turned on when we were putting the tree up in the living room. But…why? I looked up at her again. “You’re sure?”
“Let me put it this way. After dinner, I kissed him, and there was nothing. No spark. No reciprocity. Nada.”
I knew my expression had turned a little frozen at the thought of Laurel kissing Sean, and I also knew getting upset about it was ridiculous. I was the one who’d set them up on the date!
“Don’t look at me like that,” she reproached.
“Like what?” I picked up my coffee and took a bracing swallow.
“Like I just punched you in the gut.”
“Oh, stop it.”
“Lizzie, if you’re into him, you have to stop setting him up with other women. I’m telling you, he would be receptive to your advances.”
I waved a hand. “Easy for you to say.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
I waved both hands in her direction, gave her a significant look, then waved both hands at myself. “Need I say more?”
“If you’re insinuating that you’re less desirable than I am, you need to get your head checked.”
“I’m a single mom of two kids who can barely keep up with the laundry, let alone the thousand and one other tasks I need to do. I’m not exactly the type of lady men are beating down the door to date.”
“You don’t need men in general to beat down your door,” Laurel responded sagely. “You need one man to beat down your door.”
And he had, two days in a row.
“You’re wrong.” My voice was emphatic. “I don’t need a man. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”
“When was the last time you went out with a guy?”
“Like, on a date?”
Laurel huffed and gave me an exasperated smile. “Yes! On a date.”
I gulped. “Isaac, probably. And we stopped doing date nights when Hazel was born. So…”
“Over eight years.”
“Right.” That was nothing to be embarrassed about, and I didn’t know why my cheeks had begun to burn. I had a rich, full life and I hadn’t missed dragging a man around like an anchor on a chain behind me. After the divorce, I discovered that my house was easier to keep clean when I didn’t have a third person to pick up after. I could manage the kids’ activities and appointments by myself, because I wasn’t constantly worried that Isaac would forget or be late or drop the ball. I did it. I managed everything, and my life got easier. My kids thrived. Everything worked out.
“I don’t need a man,” I repeated.
“Sure,” Laurel conceded. “No one needs a man. But aren’t they fun sometimes?”
“Not the ones I’ve met.”
Laurel threw her hands up and dipped her chin, relenting. “Fine. Forget I said anything. Sean’s a great guy and I had a good dinner. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Thank you for the coffee,” I said, relieved. She gave me one last smile, then wandered to her desk. I drank my coffee and told myself she was delusional.
If Sean Hardy were interested in me, I would know. Besides, he wouldn’t have agreed to go out with Astrid; he would’ve made a move on me.
Right?