Fools Rush in(59)

I laughed. “Or ‘Bachelor Number Two…I haven’t had time to shave my legs or underarms in six weeks. Do you feel this makes me less attractive?’”

“How about, ‘I have dry, itchy winter skin, Evan. How do you feel about scratching my shins?’”

Heads turned at our laughter, but we didn’t care. We ordered some Frangelico for after-dinner drinks, feeling very sophisticated, despite all evidence to the contrary.

“Guess what Mikey told my parents the other day?” Katie asked, smiling.

“What?” I had a definite soft spot for my younger godson.

“He wants a vagina.”

I choked on my drink and then exploded into giggles. “Oh, no! What did they say?”

“They told him to ask Santa.” Katie wheezed with laughter.

“I’m sorry. I should never have given them that anatomy book,” I said, wiping my eyes.

“Yes. ‘Winky’ and ‘down there’ sound so much better,” she answered. “Speaking of vaginas and winkies, tell me more about Joe.”

I grinned, happy for a chance to discuss J.C. “Hmm. Well, he’s very sweet,” I said.

“What does he do that’s sweet?” She took another sip of Frangelico, only to find her glass was empty.

“Oh, he stopped by yesterday on his way home,” I said. This was a mere four days after our first time, and I’d been absolutely thrilled that Joe was seeking me out.

“Stopped by for not-great sex?” Katie asked, smiling wickedly.

I blushed. “It’s not him, I’m sure. And yes.”

We heard a murmur go up from the bar, and there he was, my very own Joe Carpenter. He called a hello to the bartender and looked around, waving when he saw us.

“He really is gorgeous,” Katie murmured appreciatively.

I sighed with lust. “I know.” Wearing only blue jeans and a worn T-shirt, Joe was nonetheless breathtaking. Every single woman at the bar, regardless of age, checked him out, and so did some of the men. He extricated himself from the crowd and came over. “I told him we were coming here,” I explained to Katie.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Hey,” Joe said, smiling down at us. “How was dinner?”

“It was…you know…not great,” Katie answered with a wicked smile, and I choked a little.

Joe straddled a chair and leaned in to kiss my hot, no doubt scarlet-colored cheek.

“Don’t make yourself too comfortable, Joe,” I said, patting him on the leg with feigned casualness. His leg was warm and firm under his age-softened jeans. I caught a whiff of Ivory soap and wood and nearly swooned. “As I believe you were told, this is girls night out. No boys allowed.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Katie began.

“No, no,” I insisted. “We don’t get too many nights out together, after all.”

Joe smiled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, girls. Just wanted to say hello. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right, Millie?”

“Um, yes. You bet.” It was hard to speak normally—Joe referring to our togetherness was quite overwhelming, and the alcohol in my system wasn’t helping. Still, I managed to smile at him.

“Great. Have a good time,” he said and ambled back to the bar. Katie and I watched as he was immediately approached by two women.

“Thanks for sending him away,” Katie smiled.

“Oh, sure,” I said, still gazing at Joe.

“You’re purring,” she commented.

“He’s so…I just…”

Thankfully, the waitress interrupted my drooling idiocy by placing two glasses of wine in front of us. “Courtesy of Brad Pitt over there,” she said with an appreciative nod at Joe, who waved cheerfully.

We talked about normal things like work and family and were reluctant to leave. My brain was blurry from the wine, despite the fact that I had stopped drinking a while ago. “You know, Katie,” I said, “I think we need to call someone for a ride. I don’t usually have more than a beer or two, and I definitely shouldn’t be driving.”

“Okay,” she said. “Joe would give us a ride, I’m sure.”

“No,” I answered. “No Joe. Joe had the pleasure of my company last night, and Joe must wait for it before he gets it again. The shecret of my shuccess.” At this very moment, Joe was nearly invisible, surrounded by a bevy of women. He caught my eye and grinned. Darling boy. I flushed with pleasure.

“Then let’s have another drinkie while we decide who’s lucky enough to come fetch us,” Katie suggested. She flagged our waitress down once more. “Yes, could we please have two slippery ni**les?” she said in her sweetest voice. I exploded with laughter.

“You won’t be laughing when you taste them,” Katie said. “They’re gross. But fun to order. Should I call my parents? My dad will come get us.”

“No, because then they’ll think I’m a bad influence,” I reasoned. “And then they won’t babysit next time we want to do this. I’ll call my dad.”

“Yeah, right. I can just imagine how happy Big Barnes would be to see his little princess drunk.”

“Excellent point. Dad is still a teeny bit overprotective.”