By the time Myles and Laurel arrived to pick her up, she was actually looking forward to acting like a normal person for a change, someone who could go out to eat and chat with friends. Someone who wasn’t constantly obsessing about her dead husband or missing mother—or even the scandal that waited for her as word spread that she’d become Isaac’s latest conquest. With any luck, that news wouldn’t take center stage until tomorrow. She figured she might as well enjoy her last night of being pitied simply for the unfortunate incidents that had affected her life so far. Soon she’d be pitied and taken for a fool.

If he’d slept with Leanne—even if he’d done it only once—she was a fool and would never forgive herself for her stupidity.

Owen Rodriguez met them at Harry Dog’s Steakhouse. Dressed in loafers, a pair of dark jeans and a white golf shirt that contrasted nicely with his café au lait skin, he had close-cropped hair, dark, intelligent eyes and a broad, friendly smile. Only his glasses made him look remotely like the stereotypical accountant, but they were far more stylish than nerdy. She liked him immediately.

“So what do you think?” Laurel whispered as he stopped to speak to a gentleman he happened to know while they were making their way to the table.

Claire squeezed her hand. “He’s cute.”

Myles seemed distracted throughout dinner. Every time his eyes landed on Claire they slipped away again, and he didn’t say much. Claire wondered if he’d heard that she and Isaac were romantically involved. If so, she knew he wouldn’t like it. He was almost as protective of her as Laurel was.

Other than his general preoccupation, he didn’t indicate what he might have learned, so she had no way of knowing, but dinner went smoothly in spite of that. Owen was easy to talk to. He kept the conversation going and had them laughing for much of the meal.

The fatigue Claire had been feeling earlier began to drag at her as they left the restaurant, but everyone else wanted to go dancing, so she figured she’d have to catch up on her sleep tomorrow. She had Sunday and Monday off, thank goodness. But she would never have agreed to go to the Kicking Horse if she’d known Isaac was going to be there.

She spotted him almost as soon as she came through the door. Judging by the expression on his face, he hadn’t expected to see her, either. He sat up as they walked in, his gaze immediately lowering to Owen’s hand on her waist.

“Would you like a drink?”

Claire blinked and focused on her date. “Um, yeah, that’d be great. Thank you.”

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“A glass of wine or—”

“Wine’s good. Any kind.”

She didn’t care what he brought her as long as he gave her a few minutes alone. It was difficult to smile or act normal when her thoughts had suddenly stalled. This was such an awkward situation. And it didn’t make any sense. As nice as Owen Rodriguez was, she didn’t want to be here with him. She wanted Isaac.

Some things never change…?.

Forcing herself to break eye contact, she turned to Laurel. “How do you like your hair? Did I do okay this time?”

Laurel wasn’t deceived by Claire’s attempt to distract her. She’d seen Isaac, too, and noticed the lingering glance between them. “What’s going on with you two?” she whispered.

Fortunately, Myles had accompanied Owen to the bar. Even so, Claire preferred not to admit the truth, especially with Isaac sitting only fifteen or twenty feet away. But she knew Laurel would find out in a matter of days that they’d been together and would be hurt if she was the last to know. “What I said earlier about…Isaac coming to get his hair cut?”

Laurel’s eyebrows shot up. “Y-e-s…”

“That wasn’t true. He’d just spent the night.”

Stunned silence, then, “You’re kidding me.”

“No. We didn’t have sex that night…but we have been together.”

Laurel grabbed her arm. “What about David?”

She couldn’t explain that she loved David in a different way. She doubted anyone else would understand exactly what loving both of them had been like. She’d given her marriage everything she had control over, would never have hurt David and still missed him terribly. But…what was she supposed to do without him? “He’s not here anymore.”

“But you know Isaac will never do right by you! You were with him before.”

Closing her eyes, Claire rubbed her forehead. She wished she had the energy to put on the same it’s-merely-casual-and-I’m-okay-with-it show she’d managed for Leanne, but she couldn’t. She was too exhausted. “I know.”

“Owen is a great guy, Claire,” Laurel said. “Don’t let Isaac get in the way. You won’t, will you? Please give Owen a chance.”

“I’m trying.”

Laurel tightened the hold she had on Claire’s arm. “God, I can’t believe Isaac’s here. Why does he have to be here?”

That was Claire’s question. Tonight had been the first time she’d felt some hope of finding a legitimate romantic interest since David.

Now she just wanted to go home. But she felt obligated, to Laurel for setting this up and to Owen for allowing Laurel to do it, and that kept her from walking out. The least she could do was try to have fun.

Isaac had to get out of the bar. If he didn’t, he’d wind up in a fight before the night was over, after which he’d probably spend some time in the county jail. It wouldn’t go over well if he broke the jaw of the sheriff’s buddy.

But he couldn’t make himself stand and walk to the exit. He remained in the booth, brooding over his beer and watching Claire dance with her date while remembering how hard seeing her with David had been all those years.

He didn’t want to go through the same thing again. But if he really cared about her he’d let it be. She needed another man just like the one she’d had—and Glasses certainly looked the part. His smile stretched from ear to ear as they danced, and he kept bending his head to say something that made her laugh.

Still, if his hands moved any closer to her ass—

“You okay?”

Isaac glanced up to see Myles towering over him. He’d been so mired in jealousy he hadn’t even noticed the sheriff weaving through the crowd toward him. “Fine. Why? I don’t look fine to you?”

“You look like a tightly coiled snake. One that’s ready to strike. I don’t think that’s a good sign with a man like you.”




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