Dr. Desirable. Kristi GoldЧитать онлайн книгу.
me blush.”
“Yeah, right. What would make you blush would blister a metal wash pot.”
“True. After living with Jared, I think I’m about all blushed out.”
Michelle experienced a tug of envy. What would it be like to have a man love you as completely as Jared loved Brooke? What would it be like to have a child with that man?
Nick Kempner hopped into Michelle’s brain once again like an annoying grasshopper. Or a frog. Why did she keep thinking about him? Men like Nick and commitment were not necessarily synonymous. Not that she wanted a commitment anytime soon. Or at least that wasn’t what she’d planned—
“Are you still there, Shelly?”
“Yeah, still here.”
“Mom said you were talking to Nick at the party.”
Michelle cringed, thinking she had somehow blurted out his name unconsciously. “Why on earth did you bring that up?”
“Jared told me he’s really interested in you.”
Interested in rattling her proverbial chain, Michelle thought. She had definitely been prisoner to his espresso eyes and high-voltage grin that afternoon. But only for a moment. Okay, a few moments. “Is there a point to this, Brooke?”
“Nick’s a decent guy, Shelly. A great dad, too. You might want to give him a chance.”
“I’ve got enough going on with mom and dad, my job—”
“Admit it. You’re afraid to get too close to anyone.”
And with good reason, Michelle decided. “Don’t you dare try your hand at matchmaking again. If you recall, you did that already and it was a disaster.”
“You’re not going to let me forget that, are you? I didn’t know Brett was married when I introduced you two.”
“Neither did he. At least he didn’t act like it.” And neither had Michelle until it had been too late. Until she had invested a lot of time and emotions in a relationship that could never be.
“Point taken,” Brooke said. “But does one bad experience have to spoil everything? Take me, for instance. If I hadn’t opened myself up again, I wouldn’t be married to Jared now. You were the one who encouraged me to go for it. I honestly believe there’s someone out there for you, too. Someone who’s your type and can make you happy.”
Michelle couldn’t find it in her heart to believe it. “Maybe I don’t have a type, Brooke.”
Brooke sighed. “Maybe you’re not looking in the right place.”
Michelle was basically tired of looking. Besides, her current celibate lifestyle held certain advantages, the least of which was not having to sort through the man pile to find that gem of a guy. She doubted he existed, at least for her.
“I don’t want anything serious, Brooke.”
“Who says you have to consider anything serious? What about living for the moment? Why don’t you try Nick out, see where it goes?”
“I can’t have just a fling.” Michelle didn’t relish the thought of keeping emotions totally out of it. It seemed to work for men—Brett included, and more than likely Nick—but she wasn’t sure it would ever work for her.
“Admit it,” Brooke said, “you’re scared to have fun, and you know that Nick Kempner would probably be lots of fun.”
Michelle was scared to get involved at the risk of getting her heart trampled. “Nick Kempner’s as fast as a race-car driver and he would probably lose me in the first turn.”
“I honestly believe you could hold your own with him.”
Oh, brother, or sister in this case. “Enough, Brooke.”
Brooke released a sigh of defeat. “Okay, I’ll lay off. I need to get to bed, anyway. Jared’s waiting for me.”
“That doesn’t sound conducive to rest.”
“Maybe not, but what a way to lose sleep. The man is insatiable. But then, so am I. Pregnancy does crazy things to a woman’s hormones, let me tell you.”
This time Michelle’s face burned. “I don’t want all the torrid details, so go to bed.”
“One more thing. Did you change your mind about going to the gala?”
First Nick, now Brooke. “I’m not in the mood for dancing.”
“Then do you mind baby-sitting at our house? We’re planning to go with a few friends, and we could use someone to stay with the kids. We can have everyone meet over here, since our place is bigger than your apartment.”
What a relief that Brooke hadn’t lit into another lecture on how Michelle needed to get out more. “How many are you expecting to be there?”
The way Brooke paused to clear her throat, Michelle expected an army of feisty two-year-olds. Instead Brooke said, “Only one right now, but there could be more. It will give you some practice playing aunt.”
Michelle didn’t need any practice. Five years Brooke’s senior, she’d diapered and changed Brooke, cared for her like the “little mother” for as long as she could remember. Still, she did love kids and wouldn’t mind spending her Saturday evening with a few. Much less complicated than spending time trying to second-guess a man. “Okay. Sounds like fun. I’ll be over around six.”
“Great. You’re the best.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Michelle teased.
“I gather I’m forgiven for not telling you about the baby.”
“Of course. I’ll always forgive you no matter what you do.”
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