One Night with her Bachelor(39)

What a relief.

Josh called out, “Who is it?” She couldn’t hear the reply but she did hear the excitement in Josh’s voice as he opened the door. “Gabriel!”

Oh my God. Nerves shimmied through her. He was early. Okay, so he hadn’t actually given her a time, but it wasn’t even six! Who picked someone up for a date before six?

Or maybe that was normal? Her last date had been over a decade ago, and that’d been with Greg, before they’d gotten married. For all she knew, five-thirty was the best time for romance.

Gabriel’s deep, sexy voice carried down the hall. “Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“Eh, you know. SOS.”

“SOS?”

“Yeah. Same old stuff. Come into the living room. My mom’s in the bathroom. She usually doesn’t like to go to the bathroom when people are in the house, but it’s too cold for you to wait outside.”

She bit her fist to keep from yelling at him. When Gabriel was gone, though, she and her boy were going to have a serious talk about what information was acceptable to share and—more importantly—what wasn’t.

“Just getting ready!” she shouted through the crack in the door. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be out in a minute.” And by a minute she meant thirty. Tonight meant too much for her to rush. Gabriel had asked her out on a second date—not a date he was obligated to take her on thanks to her conniving son, but a date he wanted to take her on. She’d been giddy since she’d gotten his note, and the girlie excitement she thought had died with her marriage had nearly burst out of her all week.

She tugged the door shut and got to work blow-drying her hair. Then she applied the makeup she’d bought from a drugstore yesterday, thanks to color advice from her coworker Claudine, a girl several years younger—

Wait, no. She paused with the mascara wand touching her lashes. Hadn’t she been invited to Claudine’s twenty-eighth birthday a few months ago? That made her one year younger than Molly. But Molly had always felt at least a decade older. Responsibility had aged her before her time. But now Claudine’s youthful, party-girl nature had saved Molly’s Fakin’ Bacon. The day after she’d confessed to Claudine that she was going dancing, her friend had brought a dozen outfits to school and insisted Molly try them all on. They’d ranged from sparkly backless tops that Molly would’ve needed to buy a new bra for, to sleek dresses so form-fitting they left no room for panties. She’d settled for something fun and sexy—she hoped.

She pulled on panties, tights, and a knee-length western skirt with denim covering loose layers of white eyelet that flared when she spun around. Then she put on a black, button-down top with white embroidered curlicues running from her shoulders to her breasts. It had long sleeves but was tight and supportive enough that she didn’t need a bra. It was also so low-cut the top button was between her breasts.

She surveyed herself in the mirror. Her long hair hung over her shoulders, a bit messy and rumpled as if a man had spent hours running his fingers through it. Her eyes were smoky and her dark-red lips sensual. And her cleavage was amazing.

She looked like a woman who wanted to have fun and knew how to do it.

Let’s do this.

Wishing her cowgirl boots weren’t sitting by the front door, she walked down the hall in her stocking feet and stepped into the living room, where she interrupted man and boy playing a rodeo video game. They were so focused on the TV she had to clear her throat. Gabriel glanced over his shoulder and did a double take, the game controller falling out of his hands the same time his jaw slackened.

Confidence surged through her. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, and his gaze homed in on her mouth.

Still focused on the TV, Josh shouted, “Gabriel, you’ll get gored!”

Sure enough, a bull jabbed his horns into the man on the TV and lobbed him into the air. Josh groaned and threw his controller on the couch. “It’s like you’re not even paying atten—”

He seemed to notice Gabriel’s lack of attention and turned to face her. His jaw dropped too. “Whoa. Mom.”

She tipped her head to the side and pretended not to know why he’d be surprised. “What?”

“You look… like a girl.”

“What do I usually—never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Gabriel stood slowly. “You look amazing.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks. “Thank you. So do you.” And he really, really did. Crisp white shirt, jeans faded in spots she wanted to touch, and cowboy boots. She’d never pictured him as the cowboy-boot type, but he looked as at-home in them as he did in camos.

Man, did she want to undress him. Touch and kiss and lick him all over. She glanced away before her inappropriate thoughts traveled to her face. Her son was in the room, and he didn’t need to see hints of what she was thinking, even if he—hopefully—wouldn’t understand them. Checking the antique clock she’d inherited from her grandma, she said, “Sorry I kept you waiting so long.”

“I’m not,” Gabriel said, his voice husky and appreciative.

She didn’t even try to hide her smile. “Lily should be here any minute. Did Josh offer you anything to drink?”

“No, but I got myself some water, so I’m good.”

“Good.” She clasped her hands in front of herself, unsure of what to say or how to act. This man had seen her naked. He’d brought her pleasure she’d always thought was fictional.