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And just like that, despite my stress over the botched flower delivery, my hope was restored.

“Everything okay with the bouquet?”

“I’ve been trying to talk myself out of doing this,” Dion said as he walked toward me. “I guess because I figure you’re probably involved with someone. But even as I drove away, I knew I had to come back and
ask you.” He paused. Drew in an audible breath. “I’m wondering if you’d like to have—”

“Yes,” I interjected.

He chuckled. “I didn’t finish my question.”

“It’s still yes.” Now I giggled. And I could feel that vibrancy Spike was talking about. I could feel myself morphing into a different person.

I wasn’t going to let Robert get to me with his childish antics. I wasn’t going back to him no matter what he did.

“So you’ll have dinner with me?”

“I’m free tomorrow night.”

Dion smiled, seeming pleasantly surprised by my boldness. “Tomorrow night works for me. Any particular time?”

“Seven’s fine. Is that good for you?”

“That’s good for me.”

God, I wanted to kiss him. I really did. I wanted to feel those thick lips of his molded to mine. I wanted to feel his muscular arms wrapped about my body.

His cock in my pussy…

“Shall I pick you up?” Dion asked. “Or do you want to meet me somewhere?”

I had to swallow away the sinful image before I could speak. “Why don’t you meet me right here?” I suggested.

“All right, Elsie. It’s a date.”

I liked the way he said my name. How it sounded in his deep baritone.

This time, as Dion walked away, he glanced back. Glanced back and waved.

I followed him with my eyes as he passed the front window. When he was almost out of sight, he looked inside, caught my gaze and smiled.

Giggling, I waved.

I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

I was bubbling with giddiness for the rest of the day. Sharon noticed the change in me, even though I tried to keep my mood under control.

“What is going on with you?” she asked. “You haven’t stopped smiling since you got here.”

“I’m happy for you. This time next year, you’re going to have a beautiful baby in your arms.”

“I know.” Sharon rubbed a hand over her belly. “But that’s not why you’re wearing a permanent smile.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you. I have a date.”

“A what?”

“A date. And I can’t say I’ve ever felt like this. Totally bubbly and excited and hopeful.”

“Who is he?”

“A definite hottie. Muscular and strong. I’d guess mid to late thirties.”

“My God, you’re smitten,” Sharon said in a singsong voice.

“To tell the truth, I’ve been thinking about him for a few months.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”

I explained what I meant. That I’d first seen Dion in February and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since. How I’d even fantasized about him.

“I’m shocked,” Sharon admitted.

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“I’m happy for you. If he ends up as just a friend, fine. If he’s a fling, you deserve it. If it ends up being more…”

“One day at a time.”

My cell phone rang. I knew before looking at the screen that it would be Robert. I made a face.

“Robert?” Sharon asked.

“He’s called a few times today.”

“That’s to be expected. Maybe he’s ready to apologize.”

I guffawed. “Apologize? Let me tell you the stunt he pulled.”

“What stunt?”

“He messed with my business. No doubt trying to ruin my reputation.” Thank God Maxine had been able to make it to the appropriate location in the nick of time. I’d apologized profusely to the Bloombergs and even offered to refund ten percent of their purchase. “Girl, it’s a doozy of a story.”

“Tell me, already.”

So I did.

At six forty-five the next evening, I was in my bathroom at the shop, getting ready. I closed at six-thirty, and Spike was taking care of end-of-day business while I was taking care of prettying myself.

I had no clue where Dion was taking me, but I was dressed to kill. Deciding to go for sexy and seductive, I was wearing the black dress with the plunging neckline that Robert hadn’t approved of, this time minus the shawl. I was betting that Dion would like it.

I’d also flat-ironed my hair, just as I had that disastrous evening at The Melting Pot. Maybe I was subconsciously replaying that evening, knowing I was about to rewrite the ending with one far more favorable.

“Oh, my Lord.” Spike’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open when he saw me. “Okay, what did you do with Elsie Kolstad?”

“Elsie Kolstad is gone,” I announced. “I’m Elsie Campbell.”

“Already using your maiden name. Doll-face, you are a different person.”

“I am,” I agreed. “I’m leaving the person I was with Robert behind.”

Spike’s eyes roamed my body from head to toe. “Love the hair. It’s nice to see you with it down and straight, as opposed to tied back or curled like a little grandma.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s a compliment. Take it.”

“All right.”

“Do a twirl,” Spike told me. I did, and he whistled. “You are sex on a stick.”

“Too much?”

“Hell, no.” He grinned devilishly.

I returned his smile. I wasn’t trying for demure. I knew where I wanted this night to lead, and if this dress helped me get there, so much the better.

A couple minutes after seven, I saw Dion’s car pull up. Dressed in a sharp black blazer and white shirt that was open at the collar, he looked like a model.

I let out a shuddery breath. So did Spike.

I faced my friend. “Isn’t it time for you to leave?”

“Not before I say hello.”

Dion’s face broke into a dazzling smile as he stepped into the shop. His lips parted, his eyes lighting up with approval. “Wow.”

I smiled coyly.

Spike stepped forward, extending his hand. “I’m Spike. I work with Elsie.”

Dion pumped his hand. “Hello, Spike.”

“You take good care of her now,” Spike added.

“Spike,” I admonished.

“What?” he said innocently.

“It’s okay,” Dion said. “I plan on taking good care of her.”

I looked up at Dion, wondering if his words held more meaning.

I sure as hell hoped so.

Minutes later, we were outside the store, slowly strolling toward Dion’s car. I’d left Spike to close up shop.

“You look amazing,” Dion said. “Too amazing to go to dinner around here.”

Most of the establishments in the Lake Norman area were fairly casual, with the exception of the private clubs. When people got dressed up, they typically went into Charlotte.

“You look pretty good yourself,” I told him.

“I figured we’d go to Charlotte, find someplace there to eat.”

“That’s a great idea.” I didn’t want to be in the Cornelius area. Though I’d left Robert, it was still too close to home for my liking.

“Do you want to ride with me? Or do you want to take your own car?”

“It makes more sense to go together,” I told him. Maybe I was throwing caution to the wind, but I got a good feeling about him. And if by chance I mysteriously went missing, Spike had all of Dion’s information on the shop computer.

“I think so, too.”

Dion electronically unlocked the doors to the Buick, and made his way to the passenger side. He opened the door for me, and I slid in.

Moments later, he got in the other side of the vehicle. My stomach fluttered as I met his gaze. Here I was, for the first time in nine years getting into a vehicle to go on a date with a man other than Robert.

It felt a little weird.

And a lot exciting.

“Is there a particular place you’d like to go?” Dion asked. “I should have asked yesterday and made reservations.”

“It’s Monday, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

He started the car, and turned on the stereo. The sounds of soft jazz filled the airwaves. “Is there a station you like to listen to?” he asked, his finger poised over the console.

How different he was from Robert. One of the things that really irked me about my husband was that whenever he drove my car, he changed all of my preset radio stations. Yes, he was the official owner of the car, but I drove it most of the time. Why did he have to change the radio stations to
his
preference?

“That sounds lovely,” I told Dion. “I’m happy to listen to that.”

“Back to restaurants. Do you have a favorite spot?”

I thought about it for a minute, then said, “Have you ever been to The Melting Pot?”

“I love it there.”

“I’ve been dying to try their food.”

“The Melting Pot it is.”

As Dion began to drive, I laid my head back and softly smiled.

Yes, I was rewriting my story. There was no denying that.

I was giving myself a chance to have a happy ending this time around.

All through dinner, I couldn’t stop mentally comparing Dion to Robert. Robert was arrogant. Dion was thoughtful. Robert was often curt with people. Dion was respectful. As the CEO of a successful company, Robert was used to controlling people—and that had extended to me. Dion was a college football coach who spent his downtime and the off-season mentoring students.

Their personalities were as different as night and day. I didn’t have to be on pins and needles with Dion, worried that I would do or say something wrong. And unlike Robert, who expected to make the final decision when it came to our menu choice, Dion let me choose the signature platter for two.

I saw Alexander, but he wasn’t our server. When he
spotted me, he did a double take. But his face visibly relaxed when he saw that I wasn’t with Robert.

I gave him a little wave and a smile, though I’d been tempted to apologize to him again.

After a meal that could only be described as delectable, I was nowhere near ready for the night to end.

I wanted to slip my arm through Dion’s as we strolled out of the restaurant, but I didn’t. Instead, I watched him head to the valet stand.
Tell him you don’t want the evening to be over,
a voice in my brain screamed.
Tell him you really like him.

He came to stand by my side while we waited for the car to be driven around. “Thank you for a fabulous dinner,” I told him.

He snaked his hand around mine, the move tentative. I curled my fingers around his, reciprocating the gesture.

“Thank you for agreeing to be my date,” he said.

“I had a really, really good time.”

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

“You mean right now?”

“I mean, I know you have to work in the morning.”

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

He paused briefly. “I don’t want to overstep anything, but I really enjoyed getting to know you, and if you were up for a nightcap…”

“At your place?” I asked.

The Buick pulled up in front of us then, and Dion didn’t answer. The valet attendant opened the door for
him, then came around the car and opened my door for me.

Inside the privacy of the car, Dion spoke. “I don’t want you to think I’m being forward. I just…don’t really want our night to end.”

I fastened my seat belt. “I don’t think you’re being forward. I was kind of hoping you’d ask.”

“Really?”

I reached for his hand. “Mmm-hmm.”

A smile lit up his face. It made me feel good. Made me feel hopeful.

Inexplicably, Dion and I had connected. And our connection was real and intense and exciting.

We were on the same page.

We held hands almost the entire drive to his place in Cornelius. When he had to turn or maneuver the car in a way that required both hands, he released mine briefly before taking it in his once more.

Again, I thought of how different he was from Robert. Yes, there was the age difference. But what I thought of now, as he pulled into the driveway of a modest house, was the simmering desire I had for Dion compared to what I’d felt for Robert when I’d started dating him.

Sex with my husband had been nice, and sometimes even hot, but not drive-me-wild crazy. And that hadn’t mattered, because the emotional connection had been the most important thing for me.

But it mattered now. The tingle I felt just holding Dion’s hand told me how much I needed passion in my life.

I was ready for it.

I wanted the whole package—hot sex combined with an emotional connection.

“I should have asked if you wanted to come to my place,” Dion said as he put the car in Park. “Or if you wanted to go to yours.”

“Your place is fine,” I whispered. “Just fine.”

And then, acting on instinct, I leaned forward and kissed him.

As my mouth pressed against his, I sighed, intense sensation exploding inside me. God, I’d wanted this. Wanted it so badly.

The kiss started slowly, our lips playing over each other’s tentatively. We took our time exploring. There was no need to rush, and I wanted to savor every delicious moment with this man.

I parted my lips, and Dion groaned. He brought both hands to my face, framing it gently. He sucked softly on my bottom lip. Nibbled on it with his teeth.

And then his tongue was in my mouth, and we were all-out necking, our lips fused together, our tongues tangling in deep, hot kisses. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressed my body to his.

Dion lowered his hands to my back, smoothing his palms over my dress. I had been fantasizing about this moment for so long that if he wanted to get me naked in the car, I wouldn’t have stopped him.

Dion was the one who paused. He eased his head back and stared down at me. Smiled that incredibly sexy smile.

“I say we head inside—before we give the neighbors something to talk about.”

He gave me a quick peck and pulled back. But I moaned softly in protest. So Dion leaned forward again and kissed me deeply, until I was moaning in pleasure.

As my body grew hotter than a Louisiana summer, I was the one to pull away this time. “You’re right. We should go inside.”

He stroked my face and regarded me with a mix of admiration and desire. It was a way of telling me that what would come next wasn’t about a random fuck, but about two people who liked each other acting on mutual desire.

I turned my face into his palm and softly kissed his hand.

“Come on,” Dion whispered. “Let’s go inside.”