Playing For Keeps. Karen Templeton

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Playing For Keeps - Karen Templeton Mills & Boon Silhouette

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      “A gap guy.”

      “Sure. You know. Someone to bridge the gap between husbands.”

      “I take it we’re talking about sex here?”

      “Honey, I’m always talking about sex. Not that it’s a bad thing if they can hold up their side of the conversation, as well as other things, for more than five minutes at a time. But it’s not crucial.”

      Joanna laughed. “You’re nuts.”

      “No, I’m perfectly serious. Think of it like…a sherbet to cleanse your palate between courses.”

      “You mean, something fruity?”

      “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Be serious.”

      “Hey. You’re the one comparing men to sherbet.”

      “Something light,” Karleen said, delicately inserting a candle into the frosting. “Insubstantial. A little tart, maybe, but nothing that’ll ruin your appetite for the real thing. Listen, honey, I may not be any good at marriage, but I am an expert at surviving the wasteland between them. Hell, in three years? I’d’ve gone through three or four by now. Raspberry, lemon, pineapple…”

      “Sounds exhausting.”

      “I take plenty of vitamins. Why do you think God invented pool boys?”

      Joanna sighed. Notwithstanding that tingling business a few minutes ago, so Dale was good-looking. And, okay, he seemed like a nice guy. And maybe it had been a dog’s age since one of those had crossed her path. Still…

      “I don’t know, Kar…” She moved on to making hamburger patties for the grill, kneeing aside the hopeful dog as she idly mused that, after three years, she still hadn’t gotten used to not having to take off her wedding ring so it wouldn’t get mucked up. “Someone to just…tide me over?”

      “Is that a sparkle I see in your eyes?”

      “Only reflecting the insane glint in yours.”

      “Look…” Karleen’s lips moved, counting each candle before she turned her attention to the second cake. “Who told you to watch your back around Heather Sanchez our sophomore year, huh? And who made you let Eric Stone know you were available to go to homecoming? And what a night that turned out to be, right?”

      “Never mind that I nearly died from embarrassment when my mother found the condoms in my purse.”

      “And who told your mother they were hers so you wouldn’t get in trouble?” Joanna speared her with another look. “Okay, so maybe she didn’t believe me. But what I’m saying is, have I ever steered you wrong? I mean, yeah, we’ll have to think of some reason for you to see him again, but that shouldn’t be too hard. You have kids. He has a toy store.” She shrugged. “Not even you can deny how neatly everything’s falling into place.”

      Joanna slapped a meat patty onto the growing pile on the plate beside her. The dog whimpered and leaned heavily against the lower cabinet. “Watch me.”

      “For crying out loud, honey—the Olsen twins could be grandmothers by the time someone comes along who meets all your criteria. But hey, if you wanna sit around and watch your hymen grow back, what business is it of mine?”

      “If that’s supposed to cheer me up, you’re failing miserably.”

      “All I’m saying is,” Karleen went on, “if you deliberately pick someone you know is wrong for you, you won’t be tempted to think of him as husband material. No pressure, no expectations…what could be better than that? So, here…” She reached across the counter for her purse, pulling out what looked like a compact. “You better take this.”

      Joanna glanced over. “I don’t use powder…oh,” she said when she caught sight of the glittering foil packets inside the now open compact. “Jeez. You still carry them with you?”

      “I still shave my legs every morning, too. A girl can never be too prepared. And the compact’s nice ’cause you can sneak a peek at your makeup while the guy’s…you know.” She clicked shut the compact again, wiggling it in her hand. “Where should I put this?”

      “Back in your purse.”

      “You haven’t forgotten how to use them, have you?”

      “Considering who taught me? Not bloody likely. It was years before I could look at a jumbo frank without blushing. But I can’t—”

      “It’s not safe to expect the man to remember, you know.”

      “Yes, I do. But I’d rather take care of things on an as-needed basis, okay?”

      “Okay,” Karleen said at last, finally snapping open her purse and dropping the compact back inside.

      “Karleen?”

      “Yeah, honey?”

      “I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do, but did I ever tell you how much I hate sherbet?”

      She shrugged. “Maybe you just haven’t tasted the right flavor yet.”

      Joanna sighed.

      A mile or so south, in the no-frills, three-bedroom apartment he’d been living in since his divorce, Bobby Alvarez leaned in the doorway to the master bedroom, trying to convince his stomach to unknot. Tori sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clamped on the mattress edge through the lacy white comforter she’d picked out, a tiny crease wedged between her brows. He’d seen that crease before. It always meant trouble.

      “Hey,” he said lightly. “Jo just called, said it’s time to bring the kids back for the party. You about ready?”

      Tori lifted her eyes, solemn and dark blue, outlined with some smudgy stuff that made them look even more solemn. She was almost as tall as him, but thin enough to look swallowed up in the baggy velour top she wore over a pair of jeans, an effect enhanced by her long, dark hair, which she wore loose and parted in the middle, like a teenager. “Do I have to go?”

      This was no surprise. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Don’t you feel good?”

      “I’m okay. It’s just…” The corners of her mouth twitched. “All those people, your family…”

      Stifling what would have been a weighty sigh, Bobby closed the few feet between them, the mattress sagging when he sat beside her. “Aw, honey,” he said, looping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her to him, her flowery-smelling hair slippery under his cheek. “They’re gonna be your family, too, you know.”

      “The kids, yeah.” She twisted the brand-new engagement ring—even getting it at Sam’s Club, it had pretty much wiped out his Visa—around and around her finger. “Not your ex. Or her parents.”

      God, this sucked. The whole reason he’d fallen for Tori to begin with was because their relationship required little mental effort on his part. Not like him and Jo, who were like those two cats that still lived out in back of Joanna’s house and couldn’t cross paths without spitting at each other. And he was thrilled

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