Teresa Southwick - The Widow's Bachelor Bargain

“Like I said—quantity over commitment. When would you have the time to troll for an ordinary woman?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“We’re talking about you,” she said. “Nothing would surprise me.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge, Maggie Potter.”

“If you’re planning a campaign just to surprise me, I’d have to say that you have way too much time on your hands.”

“Would it surprise you to know that I would really just like to get to know you?”

“Now you’re simply trying to get a rise out of me. It’s not going to work.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” He studied her, and the intensity was disconcerting. “But I sense you pushing me away and can’t help wondering about it. You don’t go out, do you? Why is that? Why do you keep to yourself? Is there a reason you won’t let yourself be happy?”

“I have priorities,” she said. “And how do you know I don’t go out? I’m perfectly capable of being happy. In fact, I am very happy.”

And defensive, she realized. Pride went before a fall and it was a long way down when she’d thought she had him right where she wanted him.

Note to self , she thought. Never underestimate this man.

Chapter Three

“I love my daughter more than life itself, but I feel crushing shame for leaving her with my mom and enjoying myself with you guys.”

Maggie was sitting at a bistro table in Bar None, Blackwater Lake’s local drinking establishment, with her friends April Kennedy and Delanie Carlson. The latter had inherited the place from her dad, who had died the previous year.

“What you’re experiencing is a curious phenomenon. It even has a name. Mom guilt,” Delanie said.

She was another woman who made men turn into mindless idiots just by walking into a room. A blue-eyed redhead, she had just the right curves to fill out a pair of jeans. It was a weeknight and traditionally slow at Bar None, which made it ideal for their weekly evening out.

“I remember my mom saying the same thing.” April tossed a strand of sun-streaked brown hair over her shoulder as a bittersweet expression slid into her hazel eyes. “She couldn’t wait to get time to herself, but when it happened she missed me like crazy. I still miss her a lot.”

“So it is a mom thing.” Maggie took a sip of chardonnay, then looked at April, who had lost her mother to breast cancer. “And what you just said gives me hope and inspiration.”

“How?”

“You were raised by a single mom. No dad in the picture. And you turned out okay. A successful businesswoman with your photography shop on Main Street.”

“If I say I think my mother did a great job with me, does that sound conceited?”

“Of course not,” Delanie answered. “It’s just the truth.”

Maggie looked forward to this night out with her friends. She’d cooked dinner for her boarders and Josie had agreed to get it on the table for Sloan. Whenever he was around, Maggie was jittery and nervous, so it was a relief to have an evening off.

“And what about you, Dee?” she asked. “How are you doing since your dad passed away? I know you two were close.”

“I miss him.” Delanie looked around the place she now owned.

The interior reflected the Montana pioneer spirit—rugged and rustic. Overhead, dark beams ran the length of the ceiling and the still-original floor was fashioned from wood planks. Lantern-shaped lights illuminated the booths lining the exterior and bistro tables scattered throughout. A rectangular oak bar with a brass foot rail dominated the center of the room, and pictures of the earliest Blackwater Lake settlers with shovels, axes and covered wagons hung on the walls.

Delanie glanced at her friends. “This may sound corny, but I can feel him here. Sort of a presence. It’s comforting.”

“That’s good.” Maggie envied her friend. She’d never experienced comfort or felt Danny’s presence in the house he’d built for her. And when she looked at the daughter they’d made, sometimes she felt a guilt that had nothing to do with being a good mom and everything to do with a wife who’d let her husband down. He’d never had a chance to see his child.

“Okay, ladies,” Dee said. “This conversation has taken a dark and twisty turn. I took the night off and am paying Savannah to pour drinks so that I can have a distraction from work.”

April laughed. “Then, we picked the wrong place to distract you.”

“There aren’t a lot of places to go in a town this small,” Maggie commented.

“That’s going to change when the resort is built. Mark my words.” April nodded knowingly. “Maybe you can convince your new boarder the builder to put up a movie theater.”

“Or a shopping mall.” Delanie’s blue eyes took on a dreamy look. “I would happily indulge my love affair with shoes, especially the ones I didn’t have to drive an hour to buy.”

The other two thought about that and sighed dreamily.

“So what’s he like?” Delanie asked. “I saw Lucy the other day and she said Sloan Holden came into the café and had lunch with you.”

“What did Lucy say about him?” Maggie hedged.

“That he’s charming and handsome.”

Maggie’s heart started beating just a little too fast as soon as his name came up. For the past couple of days she’d seen him at breakfast and dinner. And that one day for lunch. He was unfailingly polite, undemanding, and her daughter followed him around whenever she saw him. But what distracted Maggie most was what he’d said at lunch, the hint that he’d used serial dating as a cover until he found someone like her.

Surely he’d been teasing. Although, if he really was anticommitment, hooking up with a widow who wasn’t interested in a relationship would certainly preserve his confirmed-bachelor status.

“So, is he?” April demanded.

Maggie blinked at her friends. “What?”

“Pay attention, Potter,” Dee scolded. “Is he charming and handsome?”

“Oh, I’m not the best person to ask.”

“Come on,” April said. “You’re a woman and you’re breathing. We’ve watched movies together and rated the actors on a scale. If you can do that, you can give us an opinion.”

“Since he’s a paying customer, it seems unprofessional to talk about him like this.”

Delanie frowned at her. “What’s up? It isn’t like you not to share.”

“I’m uncomfortable with the one-to-ten thing.”

“Okay. We’ll compare him to actors and see how he holds up. I’ll start.” April took a sip of her wine. “Channing Tatum.”

“Ooh,” Maggie said. “But no. Sloan is in good shape, but more like a runner than a wrestler.”

“Okay. How about Taylor Kitsch?” Delanie shrugged. “I just rented the movie Battleship . It was cheesy, but I loved it.”

Maggie knew the actor and thought for a moment, then shook her head. “He and Chris Pratt are a similar type and both are fantasy-worthy, but I wouldn’t say Sloan resembles them.”

“Definitely fantasy material,” April agreed. “I just saw the musical Into the Woods and I have to say that Chris Pine works for me in a big way as Prince Charming.”

“Bingo,” Maggie said. “He reminds me of Chris Pine, but with brown eyes and darker hair.”

Delanie used her hand to fan herself. “Be still, my heart. And he’s under your roof. How do you sleep at night?”

“Oh, you know. Exhausted after work, cooking for boarders and chasing after a toddler. I just close my eyes and...” Think about being alone in my big bed while Sloan is alone in his on the second floor of my house. “I’m sure you’ll both get a chance to meet him. This is a small town and—”