A Sure Thing

by Marie Harte

  “Want mine too? I haven’t touched it.”

  She grabbed his water glass like a lifeline. “Thanks.”

  Matt talked through dessert, but he did pay the bill, for which she’d offered to go dutch.

  “Nah. My treat. It’s not often I get to go out with a beautiful woman.”

  Considering he’d already told her he only dated sexy professionals, the compliment had worn thin what felt like hours ago.

  After the waiter brought back his card, she forced a frown. “Sorry, but I can feel my phone buzzing.” She reached in, took the call, then ended it with a sigh. “I’m so sorry. A patient of mine is having a problem. She recently broke up with her husband. I know it’s late, but I told her to call if she needed me.” Ava stood in a hurry.

  “No problem. Emergencies happen. Want me to wait for—”

  “I’d better get to my office.” She gave him a smile, thanked him for the dinner, and wished him a happy Valentine’s Day. Then, before he could talk again, she darted out of the restaurant.

  Once safely in her car and headed home, she put a call through to Sadie on her Bluetooth. Of her three cousins, Rose, the youngest, had married a terrific guy a year ago. Elliot, her confidant and only male cousin, remained single but had a hot date tonight. But Sadie, who’d sworn off men since her last ex, answered on the first ring. “How did it go?”

  “I called an audible and made up a fake phone emergency. God, Sadie. He talked all through the meal. And I mean all through. I saw more of his food than I wanted and know all about his dental practice, his online dating disasters, and his ex-wife, who left him for another woman.”

  “Ouch.” Sadie chuckled. “Hey, you wanted to start dating again. I told you to stay off the man train.”

  “Yeah, and Elliot told me to jump back on before I’m old and gray.” She gave a quick glance at the rearview mirror, wondering if that gray hair she’d spotted earlier in the morning had been a trick of the light. She’d only turned thirty a few months ago. Yet after her disaster of a date, she felt decades older.

  Sadie snorted. “Elliot’s a player. You can’t trust anything he says.”

  Ava grinned. “Jealous?”

  “Hell yeah. His dates are hot.” Sadie groaned. “More proof that all the good ones are gay or taken. It’s a fact.”

  Ava immediately wanted to correct her cousin, to tell her to see the world in a more positive light. So she squelched the impulse, doing her best to stop telling everyone what to do all the time. “Yeah, well, we both know I’ll get a social life eventually. Matt was only my fifth foray into the dating scene.”

  “Um, Ava? You’re off the clock. You don’t have to use big words like ‘foray’ with me.”

  “God, Sadie. Read a book.” Ava huffed. “You do know what those are, don’t you?”

  “If it ain’t got recipes, I ain’t interested.”

  Sadie and her sister ran a successful bakery and catering service with Elliot in Green Lake, which explained why the girl always thought in terms of recipes—like Ava’s recipe for that disaster date with Matt.

  “Matt thought we had a ‘connection.’” It was all she could do not to use air quotes while driving. “It kills me, because he was so handsome. Successful. I loved his smile.” She groaned. “He had dimples, Sadie. But I barely had time to see them between watching him eat and hearing him blab. God.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and pulled into her neighborhood.

  “Sorry to hear that. But hey, at least you went out. I sat home, downed a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, and watched My Bloody Valentine. Not that I’m complaining, since my night was better than yours. But at least you tried to get into the spirit of love and kisses.”

  “I don’t know. My Bloody Valentine is a classic. It’s got hearts, right?”

  “Spurting blood, but yeah.” Sadie laughed. “Time to see who the mystery killer is. TTYL…Dateless in Seattle.” Her unfortunate nickname for Ava.

  “Love you, too, dork.” TTYL—Talk to You Later. Who else but Sadie would use abbreviated text lingo during an actual phone call?

  Ava pulled into her parking garage and a few moments later stepped into her neat, sensible condo. Before the market had skyrocketed, her aunt and uncle had invested in some lucrative properties. The lady who managed it was a little rough around the edges but very nice, and Ava had never had a problem since moving in two years ago.

  She stepped onto her porch and looked out over Lake Union, enjoying the cold temperature. The moon glowed overhead, outlining Gas Works Park and the sparkling lake water. Stars shimmered above, and had she been more fanciful, Ava might have imagined herself and Matt in the romantic setting. He could keep her warm, kiss her senseless, and let her bask in his metrosexual charm and good looks.

  Unfortunately, the only thing that came to mind in regards to Matt was the droning of bees. Incessant and annoying. Embracing her negativity, if only for a moment, she noticed the rising tree line, which would soon obscure the view. The condo board continued to fight the city to trim the trees, but they seemed perpetually locked in a bureaucratic stalemate. No view, a bad date, and now she felt chilled.

  With a groan, Ava let herself back into the condo and closed and locked the balcony door. After making herself a quick cup of tea, she sat in her favorite reading chair, grabbed her reading glasses, and picked up the paperback she’d gotten halfway through. A treat from the usual e-books she hoarded in her expanding virtual library.

  Why was it that sexy, available men appeared so effortlessly to the heroines in the books she read? The men acted bossy in bed but reasonably sensible outside of it. They apologized when necessary, usually after making a real blunder, and always put the heroine at the forefront of their decisions.

  Ava sighed. For someone so proficient in helping others help themselves, she felt lacking in her own life. She put the book down and took her tea downstairs, where the bedroom and study were situated. In her study, her favorite room in the house, she picked up her five-year plan and studied it.

  She’d found an amazing job with a consulting group led by her mentor, Dr. Dennis Foster, and counseled patients who needed her help. Professional success—check. Her parents remained out East, but she kept in regular contact with them and spent time with her uncle and cousins in Seattle. Family support—check. Her feelings about herself continued to expand not only into pride but pleasure. And her exercise routine kept her in top shape. Self-worth—mostly checked.

  Because in the personal column, a healthy relationship with a man (not related) remained blank. No husband, no babies. And she’d turned the big three-oh.

  Not an X, a check, or a filled block.

  “I’m deficient. I know.” It felt healthy to verbalize the truth. She put her plan down, wondering what had gone wrong tonight. Then again, she didn’t want to be too hard on herself. No sense in getting discouraged.

  So what if her first four dates had been disasters? She’d tried again by going out with Matt. He’d been better than her previous tries. He might have been nervous about a date on Valentine’s Day, which added more pressure to be happily coupled-up. And if he just wasn’t compatible, she could lay the blame on the online site she’d tried. Her first dip into the dating world after her big move to Seattle. Not that she hadn’t had the occasional dinner with a male friend, but she hadn’t had time to seriously mingle since she’d begun working with Dr. Foster. But this year, she’d been trying. Her five-year plan called for it.

  And she had to face it. Ava had difficulties engaging in intimacy with the opposite sex. She tended to be self-contained, which wasn’t a bad thing. But it made developing healthy relationships somewhat of a challenge.

  To push herself out of her bubble, she’d made a list, and she was determined to stick to it.

  The time had come to date, to explore a personal relationship that might hopefully wake up her woman parts. God knew
they hadn’t been used in forever.

  Pathetic, Ava. Even Sadie’s had more bedroom action than you, and she’s been off men for months!

  She turned on her computer and searched the dating site she’d been using. She had several requests from men wanting to chat. A good sign. After answering a few messages, one from a friend of Elliot’s, she made a date for next week, in hopes she might have more luck the next time around.

  It couldn’t be worse than tonight, could it?

  Chapter 2

  “It was worse. Way worse.” Ava couldn’t believe how badly the date had gone. Elliot, her workout partner and never-again-matchmaker, had a lot of explaining to do.

  Elliot blinked. “Seriously? Chris was so sexy and smart. I thought for sure you two would hit it off.”

  As they walked next to each other on their treadmills Saturday afternoon, Ava took a good look around the gym, making sure she didn’t know anyone around her. Elliot loved to gossip, and she needed to get a few things off her chest. But as a therapist, she knew well the value of discretion. Elliot…not so much.

  “You have to keep this quiet. I think he lives around here.”

  “So what? Tell me. You know I’m dying to know how the date went.”

  Ava felt the sweat pouring off her and started to relax. In retrospect, dating Chris “Handsy” Handsman was funny. Kind of. “Well, remember how I said I liked men closer to my size? Not huge or muscle-bound, but slender and scholarly?”

  “Dorky Indiana Jones. I get it.”

  She frowned. “Not exactly. I just feel more comfortable with men closer to my height. It’s easier to handle them if they get out of control.”

  “No. Way.” Elliot paused his machine and leaned over his railing. “Chris Handsman, Mr. Zen, got grabby? Do you need me to beat his ass?”

  She flushed. “Yes and no.” Her cheeks rivaled the surface of the sun for heat. “He acted like the perfect gentleman. He picked me up at the door. We had a lovely dinner. He actually asked me about myself and listened when I answered. It wasn’t all about him. Not like with Matt. But after he drove me home, he turned off the car and went straight for second base.” She lowered her voice. “And I hadn’t once signaled him to steal.”

  “I know it’s bad when you’re using baseball analogies.” He started up his machine again.

  “Not funny.”

  “But true.” Elliot shook his head. “Damn. Never would have pegged Chris for being the aggressive type. You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. I told him no in no uncertain terms, and he pulled away. Then I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing.”

  “Ouch.”

  She glared at her cousin. “It seems someone told him I was up for some ‘fun.’” This time she did use air quotes. And it felt good.

  “Oh. Huh. Well.” Elliot blinked, his green eyes a mirror for hers. “I might have said you were looking for a good man to break a dating dry spell. Someone impressive. Hung like a horse…”

  “Elliot.”

  “Kidding. About the hung part, I mean.” Elliot paused. “So was he?”

  “Was he what?”

  “You know. Hung?”

  “Like a toy poodle.” When he goggled, she huffed. “How the heck would I know? The minute he tried going for my shirt, the date was O. V. E. R.”

  “You’re so dramatic, Ava.”

  “Me?” She set her pace faster. “It’s one thing if I’m getting hot and heavy with a guy and he gets a little handsy.” At her cousin’s grin, she glared. “Yes, I’m aware of the play on words. Chris Handsman was handsy. Ha-ha. Hilarious.”

  He chuckled, then coughed. “Sorry. Something stuck in my throat.”

  “Your foot, maybe,” she muttered.

  “Come on, Ava. You have to admit you need help.”

  “Not from him.” She arched a brow and looked down her nose at him, because she knew how much he hated that expression. “Or you.”

  “Seriously? Of the two of us, who gets more dates?”

  “Having sex and dating aren’t the same thing.”

  She must have said that a little too loudly, because the blond giant walking past her stopped and stared.

  “What?” she snapped, embarrassed and not needing extra male attention after her recent dating disaster.

  “Not a thing,” the giant said, his deep voice giving her shivers. He gave her a less-than-subtle once-over, then moved on.

  She and Elliot watched him walk away. For some reason, she fixated on his tight, tight glutes, trying to be clinical about his physique instead of infatuated. Totally not my type. Too muscle-y.

  “Now that is an ass.” Elliot sighed. “Too bad he’s straight.”

  “How do you know?”

  “My spidey-sense tells me things.” He wiggled his brows. “That, and Jerry hit on him last week and got denied. That sexy blond Adonis is strictly into madge vaj.”

  “What?”

  “You know. Madge vaj—the magical vagina.”

  Ava wanted the floor to swallow her when the young woman next to her laughed out loud and said, “That’s hilarious.”

  She leaned closer to her cousin’s machine. “Would you please lower your voice? I know people here.”

  “Me too.” Elliot laughed. “Oh, relax. You know, getting horizontal with someone like that would be good for you.”

  Together they glanced back at the hulkish blond lifting a bazillion pounds with a man whose features looked enough like him to be a relation. Something about the blond interested her. He wasn’t classically handsome. But he was so…masculine. A face of hard planes and angles, and a body that he’d definitely put a lot of time into.

  Warning bells shrieked.

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Not my type. He’s too macho. I can tell just from looking at him. Anyone who needs muscles that big is compensating for something else.”

  “Oh? Want to bet on the size of his package? I say you’re wrong about it being tiny. That man is totally rocking the hammock.”

  “The what?”

  He grinned. “The banana hammock? You know, his stretchy underwear to make room for all that…maleness.”

  She felt winded, and not from exercise, because at that moment the giant looked over at her and winked. “You only say stuff like that to embarrass me.” She casually looked back at Elliot, pretending she hadn’t just been ogling a sexy stranger.

  “Yep. You need to loosen up, Ava. Live life. Enjoy a hot man without thinking ten steps ahead. Try tossing that five-year plan, just for a little bit.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re thirty and your girl parts are starting to prune. You know they’ll fall off if you don’t use them soon.”

  “Why? Why do you say things like this in public?” Not exactly professional for Dr. Ava Rosenthal to be discussing penis size and things falling off in public. She absolutely refused to look at the muscle guy again, because for some reason her girlie parts demanded she take a harder look at all that maleness. Banana hammock. Jesus, Elliot. Stop putting weird thoughts in my head!

  She left her cousin laughing. The woman next to her started up a conversation with him, and she knew Elliot would have a new best friend before the afternoon ended. He was like that, sociable and charming and everyone’s funny pal. It was no wonder he never had a free evening.

  Unlike her. Ava went to the free weights and decided to try a few of the exercises she’d viewed on YouTube the night before. Her arms seemed less toned than she thought they should be for someone her age.

  As she lifted some light weights and did a few repetitions, she stared into the mirror but didn’t see herself. Instead she saw last night’s mistakes all over again. Damn. Chris had been so wonderful. So how had he become such a dud?

  She had a new date planned for tomorrow evening. A get-to
gether for wine at a casual bar in Queen Anne on a Sunday night. Not a date that screamed “sex me up,” rather one where she and her partner could get to know each other, not become drunk, then go their separate ways to get ready for work come Monday morning. With any luck, this new guy, Charles, would prove interesting and hands off, at least.

  She sighed.

  “You’re doing it wrong.”

  She jumped and nearly dropped her weights at that deep voice. “Excuse me?”

  A glance at the mirror showed the blond man she’d been ogling—casually assessing—looming behind her. He looked even larger up close. Tall and broad and so…muscular.

  She had to swallow a bit of drool. Sue me for being human. He’s attractive—and still not my type. “Are you a trainer?”

  “Nope. My brother is.” He nodded to the male she’d accurately pegged as a relation. They both had strong faces, but the brother had black hair, not dark blond, like Mr. Nosy.

  “You’re not a trainer, yet you felt the need to correct my form?”

  He opened his mouth and closed it, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, your form. Don’t mean to be pushy, but if you keep doing it that way, you’re not going to get the full effect from your reps.”

  “But you don’t mean to be pushy.”

  He either hadn’t caught her wry tone or he chose to ignore it. “You can also hurt yourself by straining. It’s bad posture. Not like that. Like this.”

  He straightened his stance and plucked a weight out of her hand. The brief contact where he touched frazzled her. So bizarre.

  Yet she saw the difference in what he did as opposed to what she’d been doing.

  “See?” He didn’t seem to work hard at all, pumping her tiny weight with ease. “You keep your arms shoulder-height up and parallel to the ground, then slowly bring them back to your sides. That maxes eccentric contractions, building tone.” He frowned at the weight. “Does this feel heavy when you lift it?”

  “Why? Is it too light and girlie for you?” Just try to talk down to me, you big Neanderthal. After the week I’ve had…

  He bit his lip, but she saw his smile. Despite herself, she liked the expression on him. What is wrong with me?