"Makes my father a very nosy old man,” she finished.
Claire spent the remainder of the afternoon curled up on her sofa with a book.The rain continued to come down in heavy, gray sheets, making it difficult to concentrate.Her mind roamed along dark and shadowy corridors, returning to the night at Jay’s place.There hadn't been an ounce of tension between them.He'd kissed her with longing, just as he had on the street near the bistro.Was it payback?For leaving him high and dry at the bar?Surely not.He doesn’t have time to play stupid games like that.
Though she could literally count the days they'd spent together on one hand, it didn't change one very simple fact: he'd touched a place inside her that no man had before.
Reaching into the pocket of her sweatpants, her fingers brushed against the matchbook.She'd picked up her phone numerous times to call him, but the look in his eyes as they stood in front of the hotel confirmed his wounds were still fresh.
Her cell phone buzzed, jarring her back to reality.
"Good afternoon.Jordan Geriatric Escorts," Claire answered with a pleasant professional tone.“Our Oldies are all Goodies.”
"Would you stop it?Please?"Molly begged.
"Are you looking for an escort this evening, ma'am?"
"Claire."
"If you'll give me just a minute, I'll check my book,” Claire said.“Ah, yes!I see we have quite a few handsome, mature gentlemen available this evening.With or without a walker?What's your preference?"
Molly sighed with annoyance."Are you done?"
"Areyoudone?”Claire shot back.“With my uncle, that is?"
“I can't answer that."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know if I am or not."
"Are you planning on seeing him again?"Claire asked.
"Not if it means destroying our friendship."
"You certainly weren't thinking about our friendship Friday night."
Molly sighed."Claire, c'mon.If it was any other sixty-year-old man, would we be having this conversation?Honestly?We both know sixty is the new forty.Hamish is hot and fit."
"But it’sHamish."
"What about Johnny McAllister?"Molly threw out a name from Claire’s past.
"What about him?"
"Hamish is my Johnny McAllister."
"It's not the same thing, Molly,” Claire insisted.
"Are you telling me that if given the chance, you wouldn't throw caution to the wind for one night with Johnny McAllister?Just to see if he lived up to your schoolgirl crush?"
"I was just a kid,” Claire said.“He was at least thirty-five if not older."
"So, he'd be what?About mid-sixties now?Just a few years older than Hamish.Would that be so wrong?Now that you’re a grown woman?"
Claire paused and bit her lip, thinking back to a handsome man in a pilot's uniform who regularly played golf with her father.
"So, did he live up to the fantasy?"Claire questioned.
"He certainly did," Molly said.
