Susan Mallery

The Ladies' Man


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out loud at the wild understatement. Okay, he was gorgeous, in a California blond, male-model sort of way. Classically handsome with shaggy hair and that earring. Who had given it to him? She couldn’t stop looking at it, which told her she needed to get out more. No wait—that was already on her to-do list.

      He was big, with broad shoulders and a smile that made her toes curl inside her sensible, low-heeled pumps even as she wondered if there were any interesting tattoos underneath the chambray shirt and jeans. What would it be like to be a leather-and-lace kind of woman—someone who knew what to do with a guy like Carter? As it was she was blushing, practically stammering and wishing Diane would hurry up so they could go.

      Except she wasn’t ready to leave. Not just yet. Carter wasn’t the kind of guy who usually came on to her, but it was fun to play “what-if” even if only in her head.

      So she took a drink of her margarita and imagined herself to be wearing a wicked red-lace bra and a matching thong under black leather and some low-cut bustier. What would that Rachel say to a man like him?

      “So tell me a secret,” she said, surprising herself and, from the way his eyebrows lifted, him.

      Her instinct was to take it back and say he didn’t have to, but she refused to crumble now.

      He thought for a second, then shrugged. “I keep trying to give up on women. They invade every part of my life and I know I’d be better off if I could just stay away from them. I was raised to do the right thing, so once I’m involved it’s hard to get out.”

      Not the answer she’d expected. “You know I’m a woman, right?” she asked, only half kidding.

      He grinned. “Oh, yeah. I noticed.”

      “You’re going to give up women by not avoiding them?”

      He sipped his beer. “It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. “I avoid them for a few months and then I walk into somewhere safe and I’m sucker punched by someone I didn’t expect.”

      Did that mean her?

      “So tell me your secret,” he said.

      “I dance,” she admitted without thinking, then immediately wished she could call back the words. “I mean, I used to. When I was growing up and in college. I wanted to be a dancer, but I don’t have the right body type.”

      He was polite enough to keep his gaze firmly fixed on her face.

      “What kind of dance?” he asked.

      “Everything. Ballet, jazz, modern. I still take classes, which is silly because it’s not like I’m going to do something with it.”

      “Why is it silly? Does everything have to have a purpose?”

      She didn’t know how to answer. She’d never told anyone about her dancing and she wasn’t sure why she’d admitted it now. Maybe because it was easier than talking about her leather-and-lace fantasy.

      Before she could answer his question, Diane’s sharp voice cut across the floor.

      “You’re a jerk, Eddy. I don’t know why I ever bothered with you.”

      “Hey, babe, don’t be that way.”

      Eddy reached for Diane, who pushed his arm away. “I hate you. How’s that for an I sentence. Go to hell.”

      Eddy threw up both hands. “I don’t need this from you. Just forget it.”

      Diane glared at him. “Fine, I will. This is the end. Don’t bother coming around again. Understand.”

      “Clearly. Don’t you come crawling back. I’m not interested.”

      “Me, either.”

      With that, Diane whirled around and marched out of the bar.

      Rachel stared after her. “She said she wanted to break up with him, but I didn’t think she meant it.” She looked at the exit, wondering if her friend would be all right. “I need to go check on her.”

      “Sure thing.”

      Rachel stood, as did Carter. She glanced from him to the door and back.

      “Thanks for the drink and the conversation,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward. “You were really nice.”

      His easy smile gave her toes another miniworkout. “Words every guy longs to hear.”

      “What? Oh.” She laughed. “Right. Sorry. You were especially dangerous tonight. I was terrified.”

      “Better.”

      He stepped around the table and lightly kissed her. She had no warning. One second he was moving and the next she felt a soft, tempting pressure on her mouth that was gone before she could fully grasp it.

      “Take care, Rachel,” he said and headed back to the bar.

      She watched him go, then turned and walked out into the still warm evening. Who could have known she could meet such a great guy in a bar? She glanced at the sign showing a sitting, tail-wagging, blue dog in bright neon. And here, of all places.

      At least she could check “get out more” off her to-do list, she thought as she moved toward Diane’s car. That was—

      The car was gone.

      Rachel distinctly remembered where her friend had parked because the ghostly blue from the sign had turned her dress purple as she’d climbed out of the car. As Diane wasn’t standing around in hysterics, it was unlikely the car had been stolen.

      “But she was my ride home,” Rachel said aloud to no one.

      Diane had left her? Was that possible? Sure, her friend had been upset, but…

      Rachel walked to the edge of the parking lot and glanced up and down the street. Nothing. No familiar blue sedan cruised in her direction.

      Her mouth opened and closed. This could not be happening. Sure she didn’t know Diane all that well, but how flaky would the other woman have to be to go off and forget her?

      “Is there a problem?”

      The familiar voice made her want to groan, and not in a good way. She’d been so happy with how things had gone in the bar. She’d managed to act sophisticated and bar-worldly…sort of. But to have all that blown now was really unfair.

      She turned until she faced Carter, then shrugged.

      “So your girlfriend was more upset than either of us realized,” he said, obviously grasping what had happened.

      “Apparently.”

      “Come on,” he said with a smile. “I’ll take you home.”

      She wanted to tell him that wasn’t necessary. That she would call another friend or a cab. But it was late and she hated to disturb anyone because of what had happened, and this was Riverside, not New York. There weren’t exactly cabs cruising around looking for fares.

      He held up both hands, as if surrendering. “I’m perfectly safe.”

      “Ha. You said you were dangerous.”

      “Only in my dreams.”

      He tilted his head in invitation. She sighed, then nodded.

      “Thank you,” she said as she followed him to a large black truck.

      “No problem. This can be my good deed for the week. It’ll make my mom happy.”

      Him mentioning his mother eased a little of her tension. She felt awkward as she climbed onto the passenger seat, which felt about thirty feet above the ground.

      “Nice truck,” she said when he slid in on the driver’s side. “Great visibility.”

      “Macho,” he corrected with a grin. “Macho truck.”

      She couldn’t help laughing.