Seeking Single Male

“Well, you took him back to your apartment!”

“Yeah, but…if he were a decent guy, he wouldn’t have gone!”

Annette’s mouth was grim. “You’re absolutely right. Any guy who would be that forward wouldn’t be willing to wait until the wedding night, would he?”

Another one of Annette’s romantic fantasies—that her gentleman prince would be willing to wait until their wedding night before consummating their relationship. Lana remembered Greg Healey’s hot kiss, the split-second hardness of his sex against her thigh. “Er, no, he didn’t strike me as the waiting type.”

“Oh well, I’m just relieved that nothing bad happened. Thanks, Lana, for weeding out another loser.”

Lana smirked. “That’s me, the jerk strainer.”

Annette grinned. “I’ll bet he got more than he bargained for when he made that pass.”

Lana returned a weak smile.

“Well, I’d better unload the rest of the doughnuts before the doors open.”

When Annette exited to the back room, Lana rubbed her breastbone. Her internal organs had begun behaving strangely at the news that Greg Healey might not be the pervert she had originally thought. She swallowed hard, realizing that maybe Mr. Healey wasn’t the only one who’d gotten more than he bargained for when he’d made that pass.

The alien sensation stayed with her throughout the day. Business was good due to a college sports conference going on downtown, and she found herself watching the door for the appearance of Greg Healey’s tall, broad figure. It was silly, she knew, because the only reason the guy would come back would be to sue her for blinding him.

Her neighbor Jack’s comments came back to her, and she idly wondered if this Greg Healey was the same rich SOB bachelor Jack used to know, after all. But if what Jack said was true, the Greg Healey he knew would be even less prone to answer a singles ad than an ad for a roommate.

She frowned. Unless the man simply shopped the singles ads for sex.

Her opinion of him continued to flip-flop. Lana even debated whether she should try to contact him and explain the misunderstanding. But she suspected he wouldn’t find the situation quite so humorous.

No, better to let sleeping dogs lie. She’d lived in Lexington most of her adult life and had crossed paths with Greg Healey once. The chances of it happening again were astronomical.

Of course, when she arrived home that night, it occurred to her that he knew where she lived. She would certainly feel better if she’d found a roommate, but she’d had no luck.

“You’re too picky,” Alex chided her when she came over that night to bring a velvet footstool she said she didn’t want to haul to the new house. “And you should be careful about who you let in your apartment.”

Lana sighed. “I suppose Jack told you what happened yesterday?”

“We have no secrets.”

“Are you interested in hearing the rest of the story?”

Alex sat down on the yellow couch. “Absolutely.”

Lana dropped onto the blue beanbag chair and watched as little foam balls went flying out of the tired seams. “The guy actually thought he was meeting someone who placed a singles ad.”

Alex squinted. “Hmm?”

“My pastry chef, Annette, placed a singles ad and asked the guy to meet her at the coffee shop.”

Her friend’s eyes widened. “And he thought you were—”

“—looking for more than a roommate when I invited him up to see the apartment.”

“Oh, that’s hysterical.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m still laughing about it,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Alex tilted her head. “Wait a minute—why aren’t you laughing? Did this guy scare you more than you’re letting on?”

“Oh, no. He backed off as soon as I put up resistance.”

“What is it, then?”

She laid her head back, wishing she could put her finger on this elusive unease. “It’s nothing.”

Alex gasped. “I don’t believe it. You actually liked this guy, didn’t you.”

Lana lifted her head. “Are you insane?”

But her friend wore the most infuriatingly triumphant expression.

“That’s it! You dig this Greg Healey.” She clasped her hands together. “I’ll have Jack call him up and—”

“Oh, no, you won’t,” Lana warned, shaking her finger. “I do not like this guy. I just…don’t like the idea of him thinking I’m…loose.”

“But he doesn’t even know you.”

“He knows my name and where I work and where I live. God only knows how many people he could tell.”

Alex arched an eyebrow. “You practically beat him up. I’d say the man has as much incentive to keep it quiet as you do.”

She frowned. “I guess you’re right.”

“Besides, if you’re so worried about it, why don’t you call him and set the record straight?” Alex suggested with a sly smile.

Lana frowned harder. “No, thanks.”

“Okay,” Alex said with a shrug. “If you change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

Alex relented with a nod, then gestured toward the ornament-laden evergreen. “I think it’s leaning. Shall I warn the people in the apartment beneath you?”

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