The Ladies' Man

“Sure thing.”

Rachel stood, as did Carter. She glanced from him to the door and back.

“Thanks for the drink and the conversation,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward. “You were really nice.”

His easy smile gave her toes another miniworkout. “Words every guy longs to hear.”

“What? Oh.” She laughed. “Right. Sorry. You were especially dangerous tonight. I was terrified.”

“Better.”

He stepped around the table and lightly kissed her. She had no warning. One second he was moving and the next she felt a soft, tempting pressure on her mouth that was gone before she could fully grasp it.

“Take care, Rachel,” he said and headed back to the bar.

She watched him go, then turned and walked out into the still warm evening. Who could have known she could meet such a great guy in a bar? She glanced at the sign showing a sitting, tail-wagging, blue dog in bright neon. And here, of all places.

At least she could check “get out more” off her to-do list, she thought as she moved toward Diane’s car. That was—

The car was gone.

Rachel distinctly remembered where her friend had parked because the ghostly blue from the sign had turned her dress purple as she’d climbed out of the car. As Diane wasn’t standing around in hysterics, it was unlikely the car had been stolen.

“But she was my ride home,” Rachel said aloud to no one.

Diane had left her? Was that possible? Sure, her friend had been upset, but…

Rachel walked to the edge of the parking lot and glanced up and down the street. Nothing. No familiar blue sedan cruised in her direction.

Her mouth opened and closed. This could not be happening. Sure she didn’t know Diane all that well, but how flaky would the other woman have to be to go off and forget her?

“Is there a problem?”

The familiar voice made her want to groan, and not in a good way. She’d been so happy with how things had gone in the bar. She’d managed to act sophisticated and bar-worldly…sort of. But to have all that blown now was really unfair.

She turned until she faced Carter, then shrugged.

“So your girlfriend was more upset than either of us realized,” he said, obviously grasping what had happened.

“Apparently.”

“Come on,” he said with a smile. “I’ll take you home.”

She wanted to tell him that wasn’t necessary. That she would call another friend or a cab. But it was late and she hated to disturb anyone because of what had happened, and this was Riverside, not New York. There weren’t exactly cabs cruising around looking for fares.

He held up both hands, as if surrendering. “I’m perfectly safe.”

“Ha. You said you were dangerous.”

“Only in my dreams.”

He tilted his head in invitation. She sighed, then nodded.

“Thank you,” she said as she followed him to a large black truck.

“No problem. This can be my good deed for the week. It’ll make my mom happy.”

Him mentioning his mother eased a little of her tension. She felt awkward as she climbed onto the passenger seat, which felt about thirty feet above the ground.

“Nice truck,” she said when he slid in on the driver’s side. “Great visibility.”

“Macho,” he corrected with a grin. “Macho truck.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Of course. My mistake. Imagine how high it would be if you got those really big tires.”

“Not my style.”

Oh, but a truck was? And people said women were confusing.

He started the engine, then glanced at her. “Where to?”

She fastened her seat belt and gave him directions.

After Carter pulled out of the parking lot, he said, “You need to have a talk with your friend. Driving off and leaving you alone at a bar is not okay.”

“I agree. I couldn’t believe it when I stepped out and her car was gone. I don’t know her all that well, but still…” She shrugged.

“You work together?” he asked.

“Yes. She just started this term. Diane teaches fourth grade.”

“Big kids,” he teased.

“Bigger than mine. Plus I suspect by the time they’re nine there’s a whole lot less paste eating. But I wouldn’t trade. I love the little kids. Everything is exciting and new to them. They see all the possibilities. If I do my job right, I can help them love school for the rest of their lives.”

Just then his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his shirt pocket and flipped it open.

“Brockett. Uh-huh. Yeah. How’d you know?” He laughed. “No. I’ve got it. Night.” He hung up. “Your friend came back, looking for you.”

“Really? Good. I didn’t want to have to yell at her tomorrow. Who called?”

“Jenny, the bartender. She’ll tell Diane that you’re good.”

Rachel opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t sure “good” covered it. There was every possibility that Diane would think she was going home with a guy she just met. Perhaps not the most awful thing in the world, but not a reality Rachel was comfortable with.

As she couldn’t discuss that with Carter, she asked the next logical question.

“How does the bartender know your cell number?”