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“Yeah, you told me, remember?”
“I did?”
He smiled. “While we were dancing.”
Of course. The familiar pink heat crept over her flesh. God, she was an idiot.
“How long were you married?” he asked
“A while.” No way was she going to admit to twenty years in a passionless marriage. That would give away her age.
“Any kids?”
“No. David didn’t want kids.”
“And you?”
Her? She had longed to be a mother, but in her introverted way, she had agreed to David’s desires. Now, at forty-five, she was too old for motherhood. “I was fine with his decision.” A lie, but why would Michael care to hear how she’d cried over the loss?
“A shame,” Michael said.
She widened her eyes. Why would he say such a thing? “What do you mean?”
He brushed on finger over her forearm. “I mean it’s a shame you never had kids. A shame you didn’t pass those amazing genes on to the next generation.”
Her skin tingled under his touch. “Amazing genes?”
“You’re beautiful, Stacy. But I’ve already told you that.”
Oh, yes, he was good, all right. Warmth flooded her cheeks and neck. She had no idea what to say, what to do.
Be Johnny Carson.
Advice from the therapist she’d seen before she and David decided to call it quits. She had complained that she never knew what to say in social situations, that she felt shy, awkward, and conspicuous. The therapist had said, “Be Johnny Carson. Ask the person questions about himself. Everyone likes talking about himself.” The only problem was, what to ask?
She took a sip of cosmo. “How about you? Have you ever been married?”
“Nope. Never had the pleasure. I was engaged once. It…didn’t work out.”
The writer in her sensed a story there, but she couldn’t pry. She wasn’t that brave. Hell, she wasn’t brave at all.
Why was she here again?
“Any kids?”
Shit. Foot in mouth. He’d never been married. How would he have kids?
He lowered his eyes for a second. Was that sadness? When he looked back at her, the question didn’t seem to faze him. “Nope. No kids for me either.”
“Sorry. You already told me you hadn’t been married. That was a stupid question.”
The left side of his mouth curved up into a crooked smile. “You don’t need marriage to have kids, beautiful. A lot of my friends have them and haven’t been married.”
“Right. Of course. I just meant…” God, shut up, Stacy! She let out a short laugh. “I don’t know what the hell I meant.”
Michael’s finger traveled farther up her forearm and rested in the ticklish spot inside her elbow. “You have a great laugh.”
His touch ignited her. “Yeah, and I’m great at saying the wrong thing.”
