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  "Care if I join you?"

  Olivia considered for a second before reaching out to slide her purse over to her side of the table. "We may as well give them someone else to talk about. Take a load off, Mr. Waycross."

  "Take it all off? My, my, you move fast, Ms. Stretton," he teased.

  She laughed. "You're bad, you know that?"

  Inclining his head toward the group of ladies across the lounge, he sat, and then shook his head in disagreement. "Not what they say. To hear them talk, I'm very, very good."

  Olivia wasn't used to being the object of a man's attention. Not since her ex-husband had become an 'ex'. She felt a bit threatened by his teasing. "Are you bragging?"

  He sipped at his drink, and then leaned back. "Not at all. Just letting you know I'm aware of what's being said about me behind my back. Or at my side."

  He leaned forward, a bit more in her space than she could handle at the moment. Olivia realized he was flirting with her. The urge to shrink back pulled at her. She ignored it, but a sudden attack of nerves made her smile tremulous. "I need to know this why?"

  "So you'll believe me when I say you'll have to find out the truth for yourself. Contrary to whispers, Olivia, I've never been with either of those ladies outside the gym."

  For some reason, his quiet revelation made her relax. "Which means I'll never know, will I? I've never seen you outside the gym either."

  "Ah, but that is about to change as soon as you say yes when I ask you to have dinner with me tomorrow night."

  His smile was engaging. A short, unexpected laugh burst from her lips. "Are you serious?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Oh, I might as well," she teased. "Rumor around the gym says I'm the only woman left on your training roster you haven't dated."

  His low chuckle sent a frisson of warmth tripping through her.

  "Hardly. But you have accepted. Not letting you go back on your word now," he warned, wagging a finger at her. "I'll pick you up at seven?"

  "No, actually. I'd rather meet you someplace. Here?" She didn't think she was ready to have a guy over to her house for any reason just yet.

  "Here is fine." Picking up his now empty glass, he stood, a grin on his lips and laughter in his gaze. "See you tomorrow night. And Olivia?"

  "Yes?"

  "I like that pink tank top you're wearing. Goes perfect with your tan."

  He winked and walked away, leaving her feeling a giddy, warm sense of anticipation she hadn't felt in years.

  * * *

  Everything had happened too fast.

  Three times Olivia had almost changed her mind and stood Jordan up anyway. She wasn't sure going out with her personal trainer was such a smart idea. Especially for Danielle.

  When her ex had left, Dani had been crushed. Felt it was her fault. Bringing another man into their lives might not be the best thing for her and Danielle right now, even if it had been five years .

  It shouldn't matter that Jordan was the first man in five years to make her smile, to make her feel good about herself again. She had to consider Dani.

  Granted, she would love to listen to the little voice in her head that told her she was worthy of consideration as well, but she was a grown woman, able to bear or at least deal with the slings and arrows of life. Dani was just a child.

  With twenty minutes left to shower and change, Olivia made up her mind. It was just one date, right? One date, and if it went badly, Dani would never have to know, after all she was away at camp for the week and would be none the wiser when she got back.

  Her suddenly racing pulse said her body was pleased with her decision, but her urge to be extra careful with her makeup and clothes would have to wait.

  She'd left the decision so late, she barely had time to do more than swipe on a quick brush of mascara and dab a bit of lip gloss across her lips before it was time to go.

  Chapter Two

  The restaurant he had chosen obviously surprised her. Rather than some high-end, reservations only dining room with slow music and low lights, he'd brought her to Porters more of a family-type eatery than one meant to prime nervous divorcees for seduction.

  One twelve-ounce steak and a pasta salad later, dinner was over and instead of leaving the cool interior of the building, Jordan leaned back in his chair, sipping the last of his iced tea.

  "So, you're not a virgin, obviously, with this ex in the background," he said, smiling to make sure she understood he was teasing. "Good. That makes two of us."

  "You're divorced?"

  Considering her question, he thought it might have been easier if he were.

  "No, widowed."

  Her expression warned of impending pity, so he hurried to explain. "My wife died in childbirth nine years ago."

  At her expression of confused horror, he continued, "I know. Unheard of in this day and age, right? But there were complications, and she just didn't make it."

  "I'm sorry."

  He thought of his daughter, Ariel, and shook his head. "Don't be. It was a long time ago."

  She pressed her lips together as though she were unsure what to say. "You still miss her?"

  Gaze focused on the ice swirling in his glass, Jordan said, "Yes, I do. But I also realize I have to move on with my life. There's no going back, you know?"

  "So, is that what this is all about?" She waved a hand, indicating the restaurant. "Starting over?"

  "No. Not exactly. This," he nodded toward the other diners, "is about enjoying a nice dinner with a very lovely lady."

  Leaning forward, he finished off his tea. He put the glass down and reached across the table to take her hand, sweeping his thumb across her knuckles in a back and forth motion.

  "Have you enjoyed this, Olivia? Have you enjoyed being out tonight? Something tells me you don't often treat yourself."

  Her gaze met his. "You're right, I don't treat myself often, and yes, I have enjoyed this evening, thank you. But..."

  She reached for her purse. "It is getting late and I have work tomorrow."

  He stood without releasing her hand. "And that's my cue to say it's time to go."

  * * *

  Back at the gym, Jordan walked her to her car. He waited until she had it unlocked and had turned back to tell him goodnight to kiss her.

  It was much cooler out since the sun had gone down, and when he stepped close he felt her shiver, whether from the cooler night air or his nearness, he couldn't tell.

  Watchful, in case she decided to balk, Jordan leaned in for the kiss. Casual at first, his lips brushed back and forth across hers.

  Questioning.

  Waiting.

  Wanting, but not taking.

  He felt her arms move around him, her hands swept up across his back before her fingers tangled in his dark hair. Leaning close, she opened her mouth on a sigh, and he took it for the answer he'd been waiting for.

  Slanting his lips across hers, he deepened the kiss.

  Slowly.

  Tempting.

  His tongue traced her lips before tasting her more fully.

  Olivia moaned softly and pulled him closer, wanting more.

  Long moments passed before she pulled back.

  Jordan kept his eyes on hers, watching her reaction. His fingers skimmed the curve of her jaw, traced her lips, cupped her chin.

  One more quick kiss, and he stepped away. "Goodnight, Olivia. I enjoyed tonight. Very much."

  Walking backward, he moved toward his shiny black Ford Escape at the front of the building.

  "I'll call you," he said, and then turned and walked away.

  She stood there, dazed.

  "Goodnight!" she called across the lot.

  Jordan waved but waited, leaning casually against his own vehicle until she pulled onto the road, and then he grinned. "Definitely worth the wait."

  * * *

  He didn't call.

  Feeling ridiculous, Olivia stopped pacing near the phone. If he were going to call, he'd have done it by now.

&nb
sp; Last night, she had wondered if he would call early today. All through breakfast, she had expected the phone to ring, but it had remained silent through lunch and dinner as well.

  Why hadn't he called?

  Was he busy at the gym? She'd thought today was his day off, but maybe she had been mistaken.

  "Oh good grief, Olivia. Stop acting like a teenaged girl and go see if he's at the gym," she muttered to herself, feeling like the uncertain teen she had accused herself of being.

  She paused on her way out, fingers curled around her car keys. "Or is it the other way around? If I go to the gym to see if he's there..."

  Sighing forcefully, she shook her head. "What does it matter? No one has to know why you're there."

  Her decision made, Olivia shut and locked the front door and made her way along the gravel path to her car.

  * * *

  "Have you seen Jordan today, Vivian?"

  Vivian tied her designer running shoe carefully, and stood. "We've all seen Jordan today, Olivia. Did you forget our ten o'clock session?"

  "Oh, right. Ten o'clock. Yes."

  Vivian laughed. "Of course I'll see him tomorrow, but at the moment he is probably off with Jenna or Lynn. Or Martha you know, I'm sure she could lose the pounds she keeps complaining about if she didn't substitute a candy bar for attention every time Jordan leaves her to her routine."

  Olivia tried to ignore her meanness. Really, she did. She walked away, but the irritation Vivian's words evoked would not be denied.

  Turning back inside, she said, "Yes, and I'm sure you could complete a routine for once if you didn't need Jordan to hold your hand so you won't break a nail every time you switch stations, Vivian. But I don't suppose that will happen anytime soon either."

  She didn't wait for a response.

  Back at her car, she slammed the door, smacked her hands on the steering wheel and sighed. Head back against the seat, she decided Jordan's not calling was probably for the best.

  Thinking she might as well forget about Jordan Waycross altogether, she dug in her bag for her keys and her shopping list.

  Dani would be home soon, and the fridge needed to be restocked. She needed to stop at the supermarket on her way home, but she never expected to run into Jordan there until a familiar voice confessed from behind...

  "Those cereal are loaded with sugar. I love them."

  Chapter Three

  Turning, her gaze met Jordan's smiling eyes, and she looked away. "They're not for me."

  He pushed his cart up beside hers, and propped against the shelving in front of her. "Got a hot breakfast date?"

  She pretended to read the cereal box. "I might have had, but he never called."

  Stealing a quick peek at him from beneath her lashes, she noticed his gaze had gone serious, the usual spark quelled.

  "Olivia," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'd love to say I tried to call, but we both know I would be lying because I forgot to get your number."

  Olivia peered at him from behind a look of cool reserve. He crossed his legs casually at his ankles, his gaze focused anywhere but on her.

  Was he blushing?

  Her mind drifted back to their date, to those minutes before they'd parted company outside the gym to the kiss the two of them had shared.

  "I was distracted," he finally offered by way of apology. "You're such a good kisser it never occurred to me I hadn't gotten your number until after I got home and wanted to call and ask you out again."

  He shook his head, a rueful smile turning up the corners of his lips. "Definite fail on my part."

  Olivia couldn't keep the silly grin off her face. He had wanted to ask her out again, but couldn't because he didn't have her number. She shook her head. How simple a dilemma, and here she had been imagining all sorts of things. Well, mostly him with Vivian, but

  "So. Can we try this dating thing again, do you think? Or are you only allowing one fail per lame-but-seriously-apologetic-lonely-guy per month?"

  He grinned, and she still had a suspicion the color on his cheeks was the flush of embarrassment. She couldn't hold the laughter in anymore. "In your case, I think I'll make an exception. I'd really like to see you again, Jordan."

  Was it her imagination, or had he just breathed a sigh of relief?

  "Great! Ahh can I please have your number, Olivia?"

  "I'll do you one better," she said. Still chuckling, she fished in her purse for pen and paper. Penning the necessary details, she handed it over. "There. My cell and my address. I'd like to treat you to dinner this time."

  "Ooh, your place. Should I bring chocolate? Or are you partial to whipped cream?"

  Snorting, Olivia rolled her eyes and smacked him playfully on the arm. "Oh, stop, you moron. See you tomorrow at seven."

  * * *

  "Okay," she mumbled aloud. "Everything's done I think."

  She frowned, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she checked over the food she'd just finished preparing. Something was missing.

  "Ah!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "I forgot the flippin' garlic toast!"

  With an exasperated sigh, she grabbed the loaf of french bread from the counter and a serrated knife from the block by the stove.

  "Time?" She checked her watch and her eyes widened. Jordan would be here any second, and she still hadn't changed clothes!

  Muttering beneath her breath about how out of it she was, Olivia left the bread on the counter, turned on the oven to let it pre-heat, and then rushed upstairs to change out of her shorts and tank top and into a comfortable summer dress.

  Simple and blue, it just happened to be her favorite.

  She kicked off her shoes and socks and slid her feet into a pair of white sandals, swept her hair up into a loose knot and then hurried back downstairs to the kitchen.

  No sooner had she begun to slice the bread than the doorbell rang.

  Olivia gave a little cry of dismay. Distracted beyond belief, she hurriedly arranged the bread slices on a pan before shoving them into the oven and rushing to the door.

  Dashing from the kitchen to answer the door, she called out, "Just one second!"

  She snatched open the door. "Ah, Jordan. Hi. Um. I've got bread in the oven so you'll have to excuse me for not taking this a little slower, but if I don't get back in there I'm afraid it'll burn and then dinner will be ruined and I'll never forgive myself. So just come on in and I'll be right back."

  Before Jordan could so much as blink, she disappeared around the corner.

  Glancing down at the flowers in his hand, he arched his brow. Well, that's a first, he thought. I've never come second to food before at least not like this.

  He stepped inside and shut the door, catching Olivia just before she crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Grabbing her by the elbow, he whirled her around to face him and her girly squeak of surprise was swallowed by his kiss.

  She tensed in his arms at first, but quickly relaxed.

  Jordan broke the kiss and smiled down at her. "Hi, Olivia. You look pretty this evening. I brought you flowers, and dinner smells amazing. I do have one question, though."

  Gaze guarded, she drew back in his embrace. "What?"

  Leaning his forehead against hers so they were looking at each other kind of cross-eyed with the tips of their noses touching, he asked, "Can we keep kissing and eat later?"

  Olivia laughed. "As tempting as that is, I'm afraid not. You see, I put too much into this dinner for it to get cold on account of your and I'm only guessing here insatiable appetite for kissing."

  Jordan pouted playfully. "How about just one more kiss, then?"

  Olivia pretended to be in deep thought. "Hmm. Oh, I suppose one kiss wouldn't hurt."

  The second before their lips touched, however, she pulled away and frowned. "Do you smell something?"

  "Smell what?" Jordan asked, disappointed at having her lips anywhere but against his.

  Her eyes flew wide. "Oh my God, the bread! It's burned!"

 
She whirled out of his arms, dashed over to the oven, and pulled the pan with the charred bread from it, leaving Jordan standing alone in the middle of the kitchen.

  Uncertain how he should feel about being brushed aside for bread for the second time this evening, Jordan followed her. He knew how he felt about it, but he wasn't quite sure what he was feeling was appropriate. It was only bread, after all. Nothing to get worked up over.

  Perhaps the garlic toast was jealous, he chided, and had come up with a self-mutilation plan to snare Olivia's attention. He knew he would have... if he were the garlic toast.

  Chapter Four

  Oh my God, could things get any worse?

  The thought had barely registered in Olivia's mind when Twitch, Dani's dog, came padding across the foyer to Jordan's side and calmly hiked his leg

  "Twitch, no! Bad dog!"

  Jordan burst out laughing. "This is why Ariel has goldfish. Do you have any other pets I should be aware of?"

  Covered with a flush of embarrassment to her toes, Olivia said, "Mr. Foofums, the cat. But he's locked in the basement right now, so you don't have to worry."

  Pulling out a chair from the dining table, she dropped into it and covered her face with her hands in miserable embarrassment.

  Jordan chuckled. "So how about that toast. Did it survive?"

  From between her fingers, she mumbled, "Burned. Horribly. It's all your fault. You and your insatiable appetite for kisses."

  Jordan thought she might be going to cry until she peeked out from behind her fingers and mumbled, "Hope you brought that chocolate."

  Glancing around the kitchen, he spied the pasta, saw the sauce still simmering on the stove, and said, "Nope, no chocolate. Remember? I opted for flowers instead. But it's not a total loss. Pasta's great. Sauce smells heavenly, and look--"

  He walked over to the counter, grabbed a knife and a piece of charred toast and began to scrape the black off the top. He held it up for her inspection, a grin wreathing his face.