How to Hunt a Husband

by Jacobs, Holly

  Nate, her hero, was ushering their moms toward the door. “I’ll call you this week, Mom.”

  “Me, too,” Shannon assured her mother.

  “But—”

  “Thanks for stopping,” they both said in unison and Nate practically pushed both moms out the door.

  Shannon shut it before they could protest.

  “Phew,” she said.

  “Yeah, phew,” he echoed.

  “So, you better get going if you’re going to meet the guys to go fishing.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Mind? Why would I mind? The idea of our being together is that we don’t have any real claims on each other. We’re together when it’s convenient. This is uncomplicated, remember?”

  “Yeah, boink-buddies,” he said, a hint of that something in his tone that sounded almost like annoyance.

  “Yes,” she said. “Boink-buddies. Now, get out of here.”

  “Fine. I’ll call you, okay?”

  “Sure.” She kissed his cheek, a smile on her face.

  She kept it plastered there until he left and then allowed it to slip. She had no idea what was wrong with her. This was the perfect relationship.

  Uncomplicated.

  Dating, but-not-really.

  She could have her chick-flicks and a good boinking now and then, too.

  Add to that her mom was off her back.

  So, why was she feeling so out-of-sorts?

  Chapter Nine

  Shannon took her break outside Monday afternoon, just like every other teacher.

  Winters in Erie were long and cold, and spring days were meant to be treasured.

  Nate had called after he’d got back from fishing.

  Shannon hadn’t expected him to, and had felt pleased … too pleased.

  Because if she’d felt that happy hearing from him, how would she feel if she hadn’t heard?

  Miserable.

  She was pretty sure that you weren’t supposed to feel miserable if you didn’t hear from a casual boink-buddy.

  After all, the whole point of their dating relationship was that they had the luxury of not calling.

  So what was wrong with her?

  She didn’t have time to figure it out because she had other things to deal with. Patricia was making a beeline toward her, looking determined.

  Shannon knew that she was about to be grilled about the scene in the restaurant. She’d known it was coming and had tried to prepare a plan. She’d decided to go on the offensive. Rather than try and explain her outfit she was going on the attack.

  The petite brunette with the big curiosity approached the bench, but before she could start her interrogation, Shannon asked, “Patricia, how could you?”

  “How could I what?” Patricia looked confused as she sat down next to Shannon.

  “How could you not tell me that you and Kyle are dating? I mean, we’re friends and friends are supposed to share things like that.”

  “Well, you were so excited about your date that it just slipped my mind,” Patricia said.

  It sounded plausible, but Shannon caught the look of guilt that flitted across Patricia’s face.

  Oh, it was brief, but she saw it.

  “Ha! You were hiding the fact you two are dating, even from me.”

  “Well, let’s talk about hiding things,” Patricia said. “You made out like you were just excited about a date, when in actuality, you were so happy because you were going out with the man you love.”

  She paused, as if expecting Shannon to respond, but Shannon couldn’t think of a thing to say. She’d expected to be grilled about her outfit, not about being in love.

  Because she wasn’t in love.

  Of course she wasn’t.

  “You’re in love,” Patricia repeated as if she could hear Shannon’s mental denial. “And you didn’t even tell me.” She added a huge humph to the end of the sentence for punctuation.

  “I …” Shannon found it hard to finish the sentence.

  The words didn’t seem to want to come out, but she forced the issue and hoped Patricia didn’t hear the strain in her tone as she finished, “I am not.”

  Patricia laughed. “Are to.”

  She shook her head. “You’re mistaken. Nate and I are buddies.”

  Boink-buddies, she thought, but she didn’t say that part out loud. There was no reason to give Patricia any more fuel to add to the fire she was building.

  “Buddies? I saw how you looked at him. That was more than a buddy look.”

  What happened to her offensive?

  Time to get this back on track. “Listen, about you and Kyle—”

  “Uh, uh, uh. I’ll tell you all about me dating Kyle, but only after you fill me in on what’s going on between you and this Nate. And that explanation had better include why you were dressed in those leather pants.”

  Ah, here was the outfit comment she’d been expecting.

  “They weren’t leather,” Shannon admitted. “Pleather. And I highly suggest avoiding the material at all costs, at least when you’re going out on a hot date.”

  Remembering our pleather-experience, she smiled.

  “Aha!” Patricia shouted. “There it was. You were thinking of him.”

  “What?”

  “That smile. It says, ooh-look-at-me-I’m-in-love.” She leaned closer to Shannon and said, “So, spill it.”

  And though it was the last thing she’d planned, Shannon did. By the time their break had ended, she’d told Patricia the whole story.

  “Wow. That’s romantic,” Patricia said with a small sigh. “And more than a bit ironic.”

  “Ironic?” Shannon echoed.

  Moronic.

  That’s how the tale sounded as she told it.

  After all, she was an adult. Why on earth would she need to go to such elaborate lengths to foil her mother’s plans?

  The truth was, she hadn’t needed to.

  So why had she agreed to this zany plan with Nate?

  Because there had been something about him. They’d laughed as they shared their horror stories about their moms. They’d laughed even more as they’d plotted their mutual escapes.

  Being with Nate had felt right.

  More than right, it had felt—

  “You and Nate got together to avoid just this.”

  “Just what?” Shannon asked, her attention snapping away from her feelings for Nate and back to her friend.

  “This. Falling in love.” Patricia heaved a mighty sigh and actually put her hand on her chest.

  “You’ve got it all wrong. We didn’t want to avoid falling in love, we wanted to avoid our mothers’ plans.”

  “And you fell in love instead,” Patricia maintained, punctuating the sentence with another sigh.

  “We’re not in love.”

  “Listen, Roxy,” Patricia said with what sounded suspiciously like a giggle. “You can deny it all you want, but I know love when I see it, and you’re in love.”

  “But—but—” Shannon sputtered.

  She didn’t love Nate.

  After all, they’d only known each other a few weeks.

  Of course, she liked spending time with him. From that first meeting she’d felt somehow connected to him.

  And maybe she missed him more than a bit when they weren’t together. But that didn’t mean she was in love.

  Did it?

  “I’m not looking for that kind of relationship,” she said.

  “Shannon, love isn’t something you can plan on,” Patricia continued. “It just is what it is. You love Nate.”

  “I love Nate?” Shannon whispered weighing the way the words felt as she said them.

  They felt almost good.

  Right.

  She loved Nate?

  She loved Nate.

  How on earth had she not known that she’d fallen in love with him?

  “I love Nate,” she stated rather than asked.

  “Yes, you do,” Patricia said with a
grin. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  Now, that was a question.

  She loved Nate, a man looking for an uncomplicated relationship.

  And suddenly what they had together was looking more than just a bit complicated.

  What was she going to do?

  Nate looked frazzled.

  More than that, he looked ready to pull his hair out as he listened to something someone was saying on the phone. Shannon stood at the counter, waiting for him to notice her. When he did, he smiled and held up a finger for her to wait.

  “… No, ma’am. It’s not meant to be taken orally. It’s a suppository. It goes …”

  He finished his explanation and Shannon felt a stab of pity for him. After all, it had to be an uncomfortable thing to explain.

  He hung up and gave Shannon a weak smile. “Hey.”

  “Bad day?” she asked.

  “You don’t know the half of it. I’m used to odd questions and can handle most without blinking an eye, but today it’s been one odd thing after another. I had to explain that birth control pills have to be taken every day, not just on days you have sex. And then there was the couple who—” He stopped. “No sense in depressing us both. So, what brings you in today?”

  “Maybe I have a prescription?” she asked, teasing in her voice, hoping to make him smile, she added, “Or maybe I just wanted to see you.”

  That was the truth.

  Since the moment the light bulb had gone off this afternoon, she’d been anxious to see him and decide if she was right, if she really loved this man.

  She stared at him and tried to measure what she felt … and she couldn’t. It was so big and all encompassing, that it couldn’t be quantified.

  It was limitless.

  Only one emotion could be that big.

  Love.

  Yes, she loved Nathan Calder.

  So now what?

  Did she blurt out I love you, or did she wait and try to simply work it into a conversation?

  Hey, Nate, you never stall your motorcycle any more … and by the way, I think I love you.

  She groaned.

  No, she was simply going to have to wait to tell him until she could think of a better approach.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. “Did my mom come back?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong, exactly. I thought maybe you’d like dinner?”

  Dinner.

  She could tell him at dinner. After all, it was better to just say the words and get it over with.

  She wasn’t going to worry about form or style. She wouldn’t even worry about changing the rules. She would just say those three words, I love you and trust that it would all work out.

  Yes, she’d tell him tonight at dinner.

  “Dinner sounds good. I need a quiet night more than you know. The idea of a quiet, uncomplicated evening is ever so appealing.”

  Shannon almost flinched at the word uncomplicated.

  She was pretty sure saying she loved him wouldn’t constitute an uncomplicated night. After all, loving him changed everything. And everyone knew that change was always complicated.

  She wasn’t going to tell him.

  Maybe he’d simply sense it. After all, how could he miss it? She felt as if she had a sign flashing over her head … I love Nate … I love Nate …

  How could he miss something like that?

  She’d make long, slow love to him and he’d know. Ah, now that was a plan. Even if he didn’t sense it, she’d still get to make love to him. Not boinking.

  She smiled at the thought and said, “Well, we’ll have to see if we can find something to do that will relieve your stress.”

  “Oh, that sounds like a plan,” he said, and murmured a few specifics in her ear.

  “Nate,” she whispered back, feeling breathless and tingly all over.

  If she let him do what he was planning to do, she could whisper the words I love you in his ear.

  Maybe he’d even whisper them right back.

  She could only imagine how much more breathless and tingly she’d be over that.

  That’s it, she was going to tell him.

  “I’m so glad you stopped by,” he continued. “I mean, everyone wants something from me, all day long. It’s Nate-this, and Nate-that. Give me something as undemanding as what we have and life is good.”

  Undemanding.

  That was as horrible a word as uncomplicated.

  If she said I love you maybe he’d feel obligated to say the words back.

  That would definitely be demanding.

  Darn. She wasn’t going to tell him.

  At least not tonight.

  She wanted the perfect moment to say the words. The perfect night.

  Tonight didn’t sound like the time.

  No, she wasn’t going to tell him.

  Before she could answer, someone called, “Nate.”

  “‘Scuse me,” he said, hurrying toward the back of the pharmacy.

  She watched him go, the feeling in her chest growing, beating to get out and she wondered how she could go through an entire night looking at him, listening to him, laughing with him and not tell him how she felt. The feeling was that big.

  Even if she didn’t plan on telling him, it might slip out.

  Then things would get complicated and he’d feel as if she was demanding and then he’d never say the words back.

  It was an excuse and she knew it, but even if she’d figured out she was in love with Nate, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with those feelings.

  She had to sort things out.

  Feeling decidedly like a coward, she looked at the clerk and said, “Just tell Nathan that I …”

  She hesitated, trying to think of a plausible lie, and settled for a half-truth.

  “Tell him that I can see he’s busy. Tell him to forget about dinner and go relax. I’ll talk to him … soon. Tomorrow.”

  She hurried out before he could come back and find her and ask questions. Because she didn’t feel that she had any answers at all.

  Nate had been disappointed Monday when he came out of the backroom and found that Shannon had gone. Seeing her had made his day-from-hell brighten considerably.

  But she’d run out and canceled dinner.

  Why?

  Maybe his bad mood had scared her off. After all, they had an informal relationship, one based on fun. His mood wasn’t fun. But it had been such a stressful day, and talking with her had made him feel better.

  Just seeing her walk in the store and smile had been enough to make him feel better.

  Then she left.

  It wasn’t just that it was one of those days when things went wrong, it was one of those days where nothing went right.

  When Shannon left things went from bad to worse. He needed her. It was a feeling that was growing by leaps and bounds.

  He was addicted to her, he decided.

  And it wasn’t an addiction he was looking to break.

  Her boink-buddy comment had annoyed him because it wasn’t accurate. They were more than that, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

  At least, she was more than that to him. He hoped he was more than that to her.

  How much more?

  That was the question that had been plaguing him.

  How much more was she to him? How much more did he want to be to her?

  He’d called her that night hoping he could convince her he was in a better mood. He was eager to see her, to explore just what they had become. But Shannon said she had to go to her mom’s.

  He asked if she wanted him to come as well, but she’d said no. She had it under control.

  Tuesday he had hockey practice, so he suggested they get together Wednesday night.

  Thursday they’d talked a few minutes, but couldn’t get together because she’d promised to go out with her friend Patricia.

  But to be honest, that wasn’t the question that was nagging him. No, he was worried about why she avoiding him, because
he was pretty sure she was.

  He wasn’t taking any chances on Friday.

  He hadn’t seen her since Monday, and on Monday it had been a brief glimpse at best. Not nearly enough.

  He missed her.

  Which is why he parked his Harley in front of her house and hurried to the door.

  He hadn’t called first. Mainly because he was just hearing her voice, or simply grabbing a few seconds with her.

  Oh, he knew they’d set the ground rules. This was supposed to be an easygoing sort of relationship. One where they saw each other when they had the time and the inclination. There were no strings.

  But he’d had the inclination all week, and would have made the time, but Shannon had been busy.

  Too busy for him. Not needing to see him as much as he needed to see her.

  To hear her.

  To touch her.

  He was thinking about touching her as he rapped on the door.

  She opened it, wearing as anti-Roxy an outfit as she possibly could. Well-worn grey sweats, a battered t-shirt, short spiky hair wild … and he’d never seen a woman look more lovely. More tantalizing.

  More …

  He’d planned at least saying, Hi, Shannon, and playing it casual, following the absurd rules they’d set down, but when as he drank in the sight of her, the only thing he wanted to do was …

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  Not just some little peck-on-the-cheek-sort-of-greeting.

  No.

  It was long and hot with desire.

  He kicked the door shut with his foot, and pulled his jacket off, without breaking the contact.

  He eased her around the corner and into living room.

  He turned and let himself fall onto the couch, pulling her along with him.

  She landed on his chest.

  “Nate, is this going to be big enough?”

  Even though his brain was muddled with the feel of Shannon, he knew she was asking if the couch was big enough to hold them both, but he deliberately misconstrued the question. “It was big enough last time.”

  “But we didn’t do it here …” she said, then let the sentence fade off as she caught his entendre and started to laugh as she said, “It was more than big enough. It was huge. It was massive. Oh, I shouldn’t go on like this, or I’ll give you a swollen head.”

  “Too late,” he said, as he burst out laughing. They both laughed until they were breathless with it.