the computer spat out names of five candidates who might become the woman of his dreams. As far as Logan was concerned, that position had already been filled and a replacement wasn’t possible, but he obliging took the list, folded it and put it in his pocket.
Watching him, the counselor smiled. “At this point, I normally tell clients they can request another list of possible dates whenever they like, if they feel they’re not compatible with any of the previous matches made by the computer. But you’re different. I have an idea you’re not going to even look at the list, let alone call any of the women on it.”
“No, I’ll make some calls,” Logan assured her. “I gave Carter and Patty my word. I never said anything about being enthusiastic about the process. This wasn’t my idea, remember?”
To her credit, Nancy didn’t try to convince him to give the service more of a chance. Smiling slightly, she said, “Well, I guess that’s it, then. Good Luck.”
Surprised, he lifted a brow at her. “What? No pictures? Don’t most dating services take a picture to show the prospective dates?”
“We’re old-fashioned,” she replied simply. “We prefer to match people according to personality, not looks. That’s why we’re more successful than the others.”
He didn’t care how successful they were, they were going to strike out with him, Logan thought as he walked out of the building with a sigh of relief. Thank God that was over! He hadn’t lied to Nancy Hartfield. He would call some of the women on the list…in his own good time. Maybe he’d get around to it next week, when he had nothing better to do.
But twenty minutes later, when he unlocked the front door to the home he and Faith had shared for fifteen years, silence hit him like a slap in the face, just as it had every day since his wife had died. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t so bad—he was getting used to it.
But the quiet made the house seem empty and cold, and loneliness tugged at his heart. Without thinking, he headed for the kitchen to grab a beer from the refrigerator. He’d just popped the lid on the can and started to lift it to his mouth when his gaze fell on the trash can next to the stove. It was nearly overflowing with empty beer cans.
Startled, he froze, scowling. Had he drunk that much beer over the last few days? He couldn’t have. Sure, he had a couple when he came home at night because he was lonely and he missed Faith so much, but there was nothing wrong with that. It wasn’t as if he was a drunk. He could control himself.
Oh, really? a voice in his head drawled. Then why didn’t you? What would Faith think if she could see you now?
The answer to that was a no-brainer. She’d be thoroughly disgusted with him.
Logan couldn’t say he’d have blamed her. He was pretty disgusted himself. This wasn’t who he was. At least, he never had been in the past. He wasn’t a teetotaler, but he’d never made it a practice to drink regularly, either. Or at least he hadn’t until Faith died.
God, he missed her! He missed the smell of her, the taste of her, the sound of her voice. Given the chance, he would have done just about anything to feel her in his arms again. But he wouldn’t become a drunk just because he didn’t want to go through life without her. Stepping to the kitchen sink, he poured out the beer he’d just opened, then collected the rest of the cans from the refrigerator and tossed them in the trash. Not giving himself time to think about what he was about to do, he pulled out the list of women Nancy Hartfield had given him, then reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
Logan flinched at the eager female voice that shrilled in his ears seconds after he finished punching in the first number on the list. Was the woman sitting by the phone, waiting for it to ring? he wondered. “Hi,” he said gruffly. “This is Logan St. John. Is this Missy Trainer?”
“Yes! Did you get my name from the Right One Dating Service? I didn’t know if I should call or wait for someone to call me first. Have you called anyone else? This is just so exciting!”
In her too high voice, she rushed on to tell him how she’d never had a serious relationship, but this time she just knew she was going to meet Mr. Right. Logan hoped she did, though he knew it wasn’t going to be him. Not that she gave him a chance to tell her that. Wound up like a battery-operated bunny, she just kept talking and talking and didn’t give him a chance to get a word in edgewise.
“I’m sorry,” he cut in abruptly. “But there’s someone at the door. We’ll have to talk another time.”
“What? Oh…well, okay.”
He hung up before she could say another word, then almost threw the dating list in the trash. This was nuts! What was he doing? He loved Faith. He wasn’t going to forget her by talking to someone like Missy Trainer!
So call someone else.
He almost didn’t. But Patty and Carter knew he’d gone to the dating service today, and before the night was over, one of them would call to see if he’d set up any dates yet. Muttering a curse, Logan reached for the phone and punched in the second number on the list. He hoped they appreciated this, he thought. There weren’t many people he would do this for.
Praying that the second woman on the list wouldn’t be as bad as the first, he braced himself for God knows what as an answering machine clicked on and a mechanical voice said, “I can’t come to the phone at the moment. Leave a number at the beep.”
Disgusted, he sighed. Apparently, this wasn’t his night. “Hello,” he said, leaving a message. “This is Logan St. John. I’m looking for Abby Saunders. I got her number from the Right One Dating Service…”
Chapter 2
In the process of changing out of her work clothes into jeans and a T-shirt, Abby froze at the sound of the deep male voice rumbling from her answering machine. She’d left the dating service only two and a half hours ago and she was already getting a call? She wasn’t ready!
Her heart pounding wildly, she stared at the phone as if it were a snake about to strike. She shouldn’t have listened to Lily and Rachel and Natalie. They might think they could go after happiness and find the American dream, but Abby should have known she couldn’t pull this off. There were some women who were just destined to go through life alone, and she was obviously one of them.
Her stomach in knots, her insecurities choking her, she almost let the answering machine finish taking the call. But she couldn’t forget her high-school reunion, couldn’t forget the expressions of her classmates on the dance floor. They’d been so happy, so in love with their partners. Watching them, she’d never felt lonelier…or more envious.
So talk to Logan St. John. This could be your chance…your only chance to have what you want! All you have to do is pick up the phone.
Still she hesitated. Men wanted someone who was pretty and flirtatious, who’d hang on their every word as if they’d just hung the moon. How could she do that? She wasn’t pretty, and she was too insecure to flirt. Why hadn’t she realized that sooner and spared herself this misery?
“If you want to talk, I’ll be in the rest of the evening. Give me a call at…”
When he started to rattle off his home phone number, she panicked. He was going to hang up! Furious with herself for being such a coward, she reached for the phone and snatched it up.
