Almost Perfect. Judy Duarte

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Almost Perfect - Judy  Duarte

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the strapless purse in her hands, his gaze locked on to hers. “What kind of fool would leave you?”

      A part of her desperately needed to believe her ex had been a fool. “Tom Bradley, stockbroker extraordinaire.”

      “Remind me never to let him invest any of my money.”

      She smiled, grateful for the support, but too rational to believe she hadn’t erred, that she hadn’t somehow been at fault. She should have seen it coming, should have done something to prevent it. “I’m sure part of the blame was mine.”

      “What part?”

      “I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “My mom couldn’t seem to make a marriage work. I didn’t have much of an example.”

      “What about TV reruns?” he asked, stepping closer. “Ward and June had a heck of a marriage.”

      Maggie laughed. That’s what she liked about Jake. He had a way of making her troubles vanish, like he had all those years ago when they’d slipped away from the ranch and gone fishing in the creek. Or when they’d sneaked out late at night and gone for a hike.

      She’d missed him, his fun-loving spirit and easy smile. “You’re right. The Cleavers had a perfect relationship. Now I realize what I did wrong.”

      He grinned in that cocky way of his, only this time more grown-up, more provocative. “What did you do wrong?”

      “I didn’t do the dishes while wearing pearls, a dress and heels.”

      “Maybe you should have skipped the dress and just worn the heels and pearls. It would have made me come home.”

      She swatted his arm and countered with a playful smile. “There’s more to a relationship than sex.”

      “My best relationships have been based on great sex. What else is there?”

      “Kids and picket fences.”

      Jake slowly shook his head. “Babies are scary.”

      “Not to Tom. About two years ago he started asking me about having a child. I wasn’t ready then. Children have very important needs, and a doctor who’s still paying off student loans doesn’t have time to spend stay-at-home, quality time with them.” She blew out a ragged breath. “Now, Rhonda Martin, another pediatrician in my office, is expecting his child.”

      “So,” Jake said, settling into a more serious tone. “What are you going to do when this evening is over? Rhonda will still be expecting a baby, and you and Tom will still be divorced.”

      Maggie unsnapped her purse and withdrew the car keys. “I’m going to start packing boxes for my move to California. A friend from medical school referred me to a respected pediatrician in Los Angeles who is retiring. I’m going to take over his practice.”

      “Atta girl.” Jake chuckled. “Moving on has always worked for me.”

      “That’s the way I see it, too,” she said, heading toward the front door. “I’ll be leaving day after tomorrow, even though I don’t start work for two more months.”

      “Why so soon?”

      “Because Rhonda and I work together and maintain a cordial business relationship at the office. For some reason, people feel inclined to invite me to share in the celebrations, parties and good wishes. And the truth is, I can’t stand the thought of receiving another invitation to a baby shower, even though I politely decline each one.”

      He cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “You’re being treated as a lifelong friend of the bride and groom?”

      “I guess it’s my own fault for acting as though I didn’t care.” She sighed heavily. “It seemed like the professionally correct thing to do, when what I really wanted to do was jerk her by the stethoscope around her neck and give her a piece of my mind.”

      “So you pretended it didn’t bother you?” He took her hand and gave it a slow, gentle squeeze. Her fingers warmed at his touch, her heart at his compassion. “You still have to be perfect, don’t you, Magpie?”

      “I try to be the best I can be,” she said. “I don’t consider it a personal flaw or shortcoming.”

      Jake grinned and shook his head. “Honey, I doubt a word or two from me is going to change anything.”

      She appreciated the fact that he didn’t preach or patronize her. “Hard work and dedication are important to me.”

      “I know.” Jake ran the knuckles of his hand along her cheek, sending a swirl of heat to her face, and no doubt, causing a blush to surface. “So what’s my role tonight?”

      “Your role?” She didn’t mean to throw the question back in his lap, but she wasn’t sure what she expected, other than a friend to hold her hand. Maybe ask her to dance. “I don’t really know.”

      “You want me to be an old friend? A new friend? A guy you’ve been dating?” He slid her a cocky, James Dean smile. “Your lover?”

      She shook her head and laughed. “At first I’d just wanted an escort, a friend. Someone to lean on for my last hurrah.”

      “And now?” he asked, blue eyes studying her intently. His musky scent closed in on her, sharpening her senses, making her keenly aware of his masculinity. A lot had happened to them in fifteen years. And at this very moment, she realized Jake had developed a sensuality he’d never had as a lanky teenager.

      “You could act as though we’re dating, I suppose.”

      “Have we made love?” His question startled her, excited her.

      She gazed at him, unable to prevent her thoughts from drifting to Jake, lying in her bed, sheets draped low across his hips. Oh, for Pete’s sake. Her imagination had never taken sexual turns before tonight. “Of course not.”

      “But we want to, right?”

      Her heart zinged and pinged, and a heat settled low in her stomach. Make love to Jake? The vision of a naked cowboy in her bed hit her full force, and she struggled to regain control of her thoughts. He was role-playing and getting his act straight, and she was allowing her libido to interfere. “Well…”

      “Okay,” he said. “I get it. We’ve kissed a time or two. And I want to kiss you again and see what flavor of breath mints you use. I want to hold you in my arms again, sway to a slow love song, feel your breasts against my chest. And I have a hankering to see how far things will go tonight. After the gala.”

      For some reason, she felt as if she were in the midst of phone sex. His slow, Southern drawl poured over her, making her want to take an active role in his game. “I’d like people to think I’m happy and glad to be single.”

      “We’ll make them wonder what we’ve got planned for later on.”

      “I didn’t mean for this to be a chore,” she said, having second thoughts about role-playing with a man who made her mind drift to the bedroom. She’d been sleeping single in a king-size bed for too darn long, not that she had any inclination to change that. “If you just want to be

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