The Friendship List(45)

Not, you know, in love or anything, but intimate. She smiled. Sex. She was talking sex.

She would guess he knew what he was doing, which was good. One of them should. She’d seen him shirtless, when Coop had been at camp and Keith had mowed her lawn. If the rest of him was, ah, proportional, that would be interesting. Not that she actually cared about penis size. After all this time, she would pretty much be accepting of whatever she could get.

“Do you want me to see you naked?” she asked, still caught up in her thoughts.

Keith dropped into the chair by the small desk against the wall and covered his face with his hands.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice muffled. “I can’t. I’m begging you, show a little mercy.”

“I have no idea what has your panties in a bunch, but whatever. Sure. We should talk about Lissa.”

Keith’s head snapped up. “Do not tell me my daughter got a tattoo.”

Ellen waved away the question. “She didn’t even ask about it, so no.”

She crossed to the bed and gingerly sat down. The mattress was relatively soft, so her hip didn’t hurt.

“I offered to take her to UCSD for a quick look around and she wasn’t interested. She said the out-of-state tuition would be expensive and she didn’t see the point because she didn’t know what she wanted to study. She mentioned going to community college instead.”

His head snapped up. “She said that to you? She’s never mentioned community college to me. If she wants to, that’s fine, but why not go away and have the college experience? She’s bright, she’s social, she gets good grades.” He expression turned pleading. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I have no idea. I’m sorry. That was all she said. She’s a good kid, Keith. Give her some time. Seeing all the different colleges may spark her interest.”

“I want her to be happy.”

“I know. Maybe talk to her after the UCLA tour. Not in a pushy way. Just ask her what she thought. Oh, at dinner tonight, talk about what it was like for you when you went away to school. The boys will love hearing about that and maybe she’ll catch their enthusiasm.”

“Good idea. Thanks.”

He stood. She rose, as well.

“We have an hour before we all meet for dinner,” she said. “Want to go get a drink?”

“What?” His voice was more high-pitched than usual. He cleared his throat. “No. I have stuff I need to do. No drink. Not a good idea.”

Before she could ask what was wrong with him, he’d bolted from her room, moving so fast, he didn’t bother shutting the door behind him.

Ellen stared after him. Men were weird. Why had no one told her that before?

  Thaddeus did his best to get Unity off his mind. He began negotiations to sell one of the companies he’d turned around, looked into a hiking trip in Patagonia and nearly signed up for yet another matchmaking service. In the end he continued with the negotiations, but trashed everything else. Until he got Unity out of his head, he wasn’t going hiking anywhere south of the equator and there was no point in dating someone else.

He had no idea what combination of qualities allowed her to get to him. Did he want to rescue her? Was it the blend of honesty and raw vulnerability? Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of women. She wasn’t unusually funny or smart. So why couldn’t he just walk away?

He tried talking to his great-aunt about the problem but she’d insisted that wasn’t a phone conversation. If he wanted to talk about Unity, he was going to have to come to Silver Pines.

He ignored her ultimatum for two days before finally making the drive. When he arrived at her house, there was a note on her front door that said she was at the east community room and he should join her there. As if she knew he would be arriving this afternoon.

“I hate being predictable,” he muttered, following the signs to the building in question and going inside.

Inside, double doors were propped open and music with a classic Cuban beat spilled out. He moved toward the sound, knowing he would find Dagmar in the middle of whatever party was going on. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t recognize the danger until it was too late.

He was all the way inside the room when he realized it wasn’t a party—it was a dance lesson. Before he could bolt for safety, the music stopped and he heard a familiar voice calling, “Darling, you made it. And your timing is perfect. You know how I love to rumba.”

His great-aunt sailed toward him. She’d replaced the purple streak in her hair with a green one. Today she had on a dress with a full skirt that came to midcalf, and dance heels. The music began again and he instinctively took her in his arms and began to dance.

The movements were familiar. Slow, quick, quick. He moved her around the room, keeping pace with the other ten or so pairs of dancers. He guided her through a crossover break, then spun her expertly before returning to the basic step. As they continued around the room, he noticed about five or six women standing in a group. They were all staring at him expectantly.

Dagmar waved at them. “You know you’re going to have to dance with my friends who don’t have partners.”

“I could tell you no.”

She smiled. “I doubt that.”

She was right, so he surrendered to the inevitable and danced with all the single women for the better part of two hours. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about getting in his workout today.