It was hopeless. The only way she was going to get Tom out of her mind was to have a wonderful time with Dirk. She didn’t care about their ridiculous rivalry. It was prideful male posturing and that was between them.
Jude was determined to have as much fun as possible—if she ever made up her mind what to wear. She wanted to set the right tone. She glanced at the nightstand clock as she sat on the edge of the bed, struggling to make her leggings go up smoothly over slightly damp legs.
They were going to dinner first. Dinner was nice. She wasn’t familiar with the restaurant where Dirk had made reservations, but Misty Shores Inn suggested candlelight and romantic music and she was down for that.
She slipped into her best bra, leaning over to fill the cups before hooking it closed in back. Why was she getting ready so early? Something about a last-minute rush always pumped her up for a terrific date—or a terrible one.
Now she was probably going to be ready too early, and that meant pacing and waiting, letting doubts grow. She was horrible at dating, which was why she’d been so relieved when Jaxon had proposed.
That thought hit her hard.
Wow, was that why she’d said yes to Jaxon? Because he’d asked and she’d been tired of dating? But no, surely not. Jaxon was handsome and had a very muscular body and the deepest hazel eyes, and OMG, she totally had!
Jude placed a hand on her forehead. If it was true that only Jaxon’s looks, body, and availability had wrangled her into an engagement, she better darn well get her priorities straight before jumping into another relationship.
Thank heavens Jaxon had dumped her at the altar. She’d be married to him now if he hadn’t.
What a mistake that would have been.
For the first time since the botched wedding, Jude raised her eyes heavenward and whispered, “Thank you.”
That realization didn’t make first dates easier. Jude peered at herself in the mirror. Her long dark hair was still slightly damp, but she brushed it into the smooth style that framed her face in what her mother called her “Botticelli look.” She wasn’t big on heavy makeup; mascara and a trace of eye shadow, plus lipstick, did it for her. She applied her favorite cherry-red lip gloss, bright and slightly daring, and wondered if Tom would call it a color that bold women wore.
Damn! Why did Tom Brunswick keep popping into her head?
She checked her makeup one more time, dabbed cologne on her throat, earlobes, and the hollow between her breasts, and then hoped she hadn’t overdone it.
In a decisive mood now, she finished dressing for a night at the bowling alley. A pullover sweater and a short skirt for ease of movement, with leggings underneath. Nothing sexy about the outfit. It was much like her everyday work attire. She needed something to elevate the look. What shoes should she wear?
She studied her labeled shoeboxes on the closet shelf. How tall was Dirk?
She tried to remember dancing with him, but when she looked up in her daydream, her imagery dance partner always had Tom’s slightly crooked smile and warm brown eyes.
“When in doubt go low.” She chose her simple one-inch black pumps, not that she was tall, but her dressy three-inch spikes might make her as tall as Dirk, and she didn’t want to wear anything that would make him feel uncomfortable.
And when Dirk showed up, all smooth toothy smiles, slicked-back hair, and smelling of island breezes, standing just a few inches taller than she, Jude was very glad she’d gone for the short pumps.
Dirk overdid the compliments, but Jude accepted them graciously. She planned to have a great evening, and that meant forgetting about Tom.
“I made reservations for seven thirty,” her date reminded her unnecessarily.
He had a young voice, or maybe it was a little high for a man. It reminded her of the awkward adolescents who’d showed up in her library every day. This guy bugged Tom?
Jude didn’t understand it. In her mind, Dirk had nothing on Tom.
“I’m ready,” she assured Dirk. “We won’t be late.”
She quickly grabbed her nice coat, slipping into it before Dirk could help her.
Dirk was at least three inches shorter than Tom, but what he lacked in height, he made up for with charisma and good looks—cracking self-deprecating jokes, making firm eye contact, but not holding her gaze long enough to become creepy.
With her low heels they stood eyeball-to-eyeball, but that didn’t prejudice her against him. Size was no biggie. There was a natural curl in his professionally styled russet-colored hair, and he had the cutest dimples. He wore creased khaki slacks and a white polo shirt. His style was understated preppie.
Not her usual type, but neither was Tom.
In the parking lot, Dirk took her arm so she wouldn’t slip on an icy patch, then opened the door of his new model Audi for her and she caught herself thinking of Tom’s vintage Mustang. She did remember that Dirk had a good sense of humor and wore a spicy aftershave with hints of anise. This promised to be a great first date if she could stop thinking about Tom and his rivalry with the man beside her.
Giving Dirk the benefit of the doubt, Jude threw herself into her role as a charming companion. She remembered Tom’s warning against Dirk, but she was a big girl, and she could take care of herself.
Dirk made it easy for her to be congenial—opening doors, helping with her coat, pulling out her chair, just like Tom did. She was able to sit back and let him do all the work. All she had to do was remain alluring and mysterious.
Their waiter was tall and broad-shouldered. He probably made great tips at the upscale restaurant, but he took his job a little too seriously, hovering over them while they tasted the wine and sampled their appetizers. He wore his hair in a tail, and she wondered if Tom’s shaggy hair style was long enough to tie back. Probably not, but their waiter had long legs and a tight, muscular butt that reminded her so strongly of Tom she had to study her place setting whenever he turned his back to the table.
Damn you, Tom Brunswick! she thought with a flash of anger. Why couldn’t she get the man off her mind?
It was all Brunswick’s fault that she wasn’t enjoying a pleasant date with a fascinating guy who wasn’t afraid of showing he was interested in a woman. She didn’t want to be thinking of Tom while Dirk was working hard to entertain her.
She owed him her full attention and Jude tried harder to follow the gist of his stories. Maybe this was what marriage was all about: being a sounding board, a good listener, and supportive of your partner. But she wanted more from life than meeting everyone else’s needs and she hadn’t even realized it until Jaxon dumped her. She wanted excitement, challenges, breathless romance. Completely against her will, she conjured up an image of Tom as Zorro—one of her go-to sexual fantasies—stripped bare to the waist, grinning widely with a dueling sword in hand.
Ack! Stop it.
“And we all had a good laugh over that,” Dirk said, concluding a story.
Guiltily, she smiled broadly, trying to make up for missing the tale that preceded the punchline. He chuckled and looked as if he thought she might laugh too. Jude gave a little haha and hoped she got away with her poor listening skills. He couldn’t expect her to roar with laughter over the antics of people she didn’t know.
Jude focused on appreciating the meal. Her fresh salmon, poached in cream, was the best thing she’d eaten in weeks. The food was absolutely delicious and served with elegant flair.