Despite the fact that she had brought Emma and Ginny into the conversation, Carol’s plans to attract Patrick were still rather sketchy the following weekend.

Her friends had coached her on how to dress and what to say to Patrick, but he spent most of the time working, and the rest of the time, he was hanging out with all of them as a group.

So after a week of nothing, her seduction plans had boiled down to trying to get Patrick alone.

It wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Patrick didn’t pick up on hints—any hints. And he wasn’t afraid to object if he was pushed into something he didn’t want to do. If he didn’t want to spend time alone with Carol, then there was nothing she could do to make it happen.

It had been far easier when she’d been trying to give Ginny and Ryan some alone time a few months ago. Ryan was laid-back and good-natured and never dug in his heels like Patrick. It had been easy as pie for Carol to maneuver opportunities for Ginny to spend some time with Ryan on their own.

She might as well be trying to seduce a lamppost, for all the opportunities she was getting to be alone with Patrick.

The following Saturday, Carol was starting to get frustrated.

They were all helping Nan—Noah and Ginny’s grandmother—move out of her house and into an in-law suite in Noah’s house. Carol was trying to remain optimistic, and she’d spent a lot of time following Ginny’s advice on makeup and outfit. But Patrick, working on his laptop on the kitchen table while they waited for Noah and Ryan to arrive with the truck, didn’t even appear aware that she was in the room.

“You look very pretty today, dear,” Nan said, coming over to stand beside where Carol was leaning against the kitchen counter.

Carol smiled, genuinely pleased by the compliment. “Thank you. How are you feeling about everything?”

It had been a very hard decision for Nan to move out of the house she’d lived in most of her life. But Ginny was engaged to Ryan and moving in with him, and so there was no longer anyone who could live with Nan in the house. Noah had been willing to pay for a live-in caretaker, but Nan wouldn’t allow him to “waste” that money when she could easily move in with him.

“I’m sad,” Nan admitted. “I love this house.”

Carol reached out to put a hand on Nan’s shoulder. She’d known Nan since she’d been ten, and she loved her almost as much as her own grandparents. Her throat was a little tight as she said, “I know you do. I’m really sorry.”

Nan shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m blessed to have grandchildren like Noah and Ginny who want to help me out. Her children rise up and call her blessed.”

Carol realized from the shift in tone that the last sentence must be a verse from the Bible, which Nan was in the habit of quoting in nearly every conversation. She smiled and leaned over to kiss Nan on the cheek. “Well, your grandchildren certainly rise up and call you blessed. And your grandchildren’s friends too.”

When she pulled back, there were tears in Nan’s eyes, even as she was smiling. “Thank you.”

Carol had always been emotional and cried easily, so she was a little teary herself as she glanced away. She didn’t intend to look over at Patrick, but her eyes landed on him anyway. He’d looked up from his laptop and was watching her—probably just accidentally—so their eyes met for just a moment.

Carol looked away quickly, strangely embarrassed by his catching her so emotional over something so little. She quickly swiped away a tear that had beaded on the corner of her eyelashes.

Nan was about to say something, but Noah and Ryan came into the house just then, breaking up the conversation. The room broke into a flutter of activity and chatter, but for some reason there was a break in conversation just as Ryan came over to where she was standing and said, with his typical brotherly bluntness, “What are you so dressed up for?”

Washed with a wave of self-consciousness since she knew Patrick had heard him, she scowled at her brother and said, “I’m not dressed up. What are you talking about?”

She wasn’t dressed up. She was wearing a pair of jeans, a tank top, and an oversized button-up shirt over it. It was a perfectly normal outfit for the context. But she knew Ryan had probably noticed that she’d taken care with her makeup and hair, trying to convey the pretty, natural look that Ginny and Emma had mastered and that she never could quite achieve.

She didn’t want it broadcast to the whole room though.

Ginny gave Ryan a discreet elbow in the side to shut him up.

“Ouch,” Ryan said loudly, clearly not taking the hint as he looked indignantly at his fiancée who had waged an unprovoked attack on his person. “What was that for?”

Carol’s cheeks were flaming, but she took comfort in the fact that Patrick seemed completely unaware of any undercurrents. He was focused on his laptop again. He took the damned thing everywhere.

“Let’s get going, folks,” Noah said loudly, taking charge as he did by nature. “I don’t want to still be doing this at midnight.”

After that, Carol didn’t have any time to think about attracting Patrick since they were all carrying boxes and furniture.

They didn’t have to move the whole house. Nan was just bringing over the things she wanted to keep and that would fit into her rooms in Noah’s house. The rest of the stuff would later be thrown away or given away.

Even so, it was a lot of hauling as they filled up the small rental truck.

At one point, when Carol had just carried a box of books to hand to Ryan, who was packing the truck, Ginny caught up with her. With a quick smile, Ginny unbuttoned the two buttons that were holding Carol’s shirt closed.

“Hey!” Carol objected, closing the shirt over her tank top again.

“You’ve got great boobs,” Ginny whispered. “You need to show them off.”

Carol wasn’t convinced of the greatness of her boobs, but they were certainly big. “It just feels weird.”

“I thought you wanted him to notice you.”

“I do.”

“So make use of your boobs.”

Carol sighed and looked down at herself again. She was wearing a bra—there was absolutely no way she could go braless the way Ginny sometimes could—and she could see the outline of her bra, as well as the shape of her nipples, through the fabric of her pale green tank top. “It doesn’t seem decent.”

“It’s perfectly decent. It just feels different because you’re normally more covered up.”

Swallowing hard, Carol stopped arguing, but she kept pulling her overshirt closed over her chest as she worked.

Maybe other women were comfortable showing off their boobs, but she wasn’t one of them.

It took about an hour and a half for them to finish loading Nan’s stuff. Then they had to drive over to Noah’s house to unload it.

Ginny jumped in before Ryan could and organized people into cars. She managed to casually suggest Carol ride over with Patrick.

It was well done. If Carol hadn’t already known what she was doing, she never would have realized that Ginny was trying to get them together.

Carol was feeling ridiculously nervous as she got into the front seat of Patrick’s old Volvo. She’d known Patrick most of her life, and they’d always interacted in an easy, casual way. But now she was feeling all this pressure—the need to engage him, interest him, attract him.

And she just wasn’t any good at it.

“How’s work going?” she asked as he pulled the car onto the street. Nan’s house used to be in the country, but Blacksburg had grown in the past ten years to encompass it. Noah’s house was in a new subdivision on the other side of town.

Patrick glanced over at her, looking surprised by the question. “Fine. Good.”

Carol waited, but he added nothing more to the conversation. So she tried again. “Nan is kind of sad about moving.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” This time he didn’t even turn his head to look at her.

She waited, but he didn’t say anything else.

Had he always been this hard to talk to?

She knew very well he was smart and funny and kind at heart. It came through even when he was being grumpy or antisocial. Just a few months ago, he’d gone out in the middle of the night in his pajama pants to help her when Ginny had been drunk in the bathroom of a bar, and he’d never once questioned her calling him for help. Surely he could rouse himself enough to have a conversation with her—if only for basic politeness.

And surely he could look at her occasionally, notice that she was a person, a woman, and not just a lump sitting in the front seat of his car.

She tried one more time. “I wonder how quickly they’ll be able to sell Nan’s old house.”

“It’ll go quick.”

That was a little bit more of a response than she’d gotten before, so she pursued it. “It is kind of outdated.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the location. Someone will snap it up.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

Silence.

She wanted to scream in frustration. It had never been this hard to talk to Patrick before—or maybe it had always been this hard and she’d never thought about it in the past.

Because she was exasperated and wanted to make the man talk—no matter what topic it was on—she heard herself asking, “How’s dating going?”

That got his attention. He blinked and glanced over toward her. “What?”

“Dating? That site you joined? I just asked how it’s going.”

“Oh. Oh. Fine, I guess.”

“What do you mean, fine, I guess?” Normally, she was a sensitive person and wouldn’t force a conversation if someone didn’t want to talk, but Patrick was being particularly stubborn and annoying right now, and she was going to make him talk if it killed her.

“I mean I guess it’s going fine.” He slanted her a little look as if he were getting annoyed too.

Strangely, she was pleased to see it. At least it was a real response to her. “Have you met anyone yet?”

“It’s just been a week.”

“I know that. But have you met anyone yet?”

“A couple. Just for coffee.”

She didn’t like the idea of his having coffee with other women, but she had absolutely no claim on him, so she had no grounds for her disapproval. She made sure to sound casual and friendly as she asked, “So how was it? Did you meet anyone interesting?”

“Eh.”

“What do you mean, eh?”

The look he slanted her this time was more than a little annoyed. He clearly didn’t appreciate her extended interrogation.

“So are you going to go out with any of them again?” she asked when he didn’t answer in words.

“Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think they were really interested in me.”

That surprised her enough to distract her from her previous annoyance. Her eyes widened and her mouth turned down as she asked, “Why wouldn’t they be interested in you?”

He arched his eyebrows and didn’t answer in words.

“Why are you making that expression?” she asked. “Of course women would be interested in you.”

He cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the road. “Believe it or not, I’m not exactly most women’s idea of Prince Charming.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Her outrage was real. She couldn’t believe he was actually saying that, actually believing that women wouldn’t jump at the chance to be with him. “You’re exactly what women are looking for. You’re smart and funny and nice and good-looking, and you have this whole sexy geek thing going for you.”

She’d gotten carried away with the topic and said more than she’d intended. She stopped abruptly as she realized she’d just blurted out how attractive she found him.

His expression was absolutely unreadable as he said, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she responded lamely. Nothing else she could do now. “Of course you do.”

He didn’t answer for a long time. Then he muttered, “Thanks.”

She waited to see if he’d say anything else, but he didn’t. She was usually pretty good at reading other people’s feelings, but she had no idea what he was thinking.

Finally he said, “I guess I’ll keep trying then.”

“Yeah. You should.”

As Patrick pulled into the driveway of Noah’s house, Carol had to conclude she was the worst seducer in the history of the world.

Not only had she failed to get Patrick to see her as a woman, she’d also managed to encourage him to keep dating other women.

Just perfect.

Her plan wasn’t going very well. She’d have to confer with Ginny and Emma and see if they had more ideas.

She was going to have to take more drastic action if she was ever going to open Patrick’s eyes.

***

The top she’d been wearing yesterday had just about killed him, and he’d had to spend most of his time keeping his eyes away from her neckline.

It wasn’t right.

Here he was trying to be a decent person and a good friend and not leer at Ryan’s little sister—something that neither Noah nor Ryan had managed to do themselves—and Carol had to wear an outfit like that.

She wasn’t normally in the habit of showing off her body, so hopefully it had just been a fluke.

He’d agreed to go to the movies with Noah, Emma, and Carol because Emma had guilted him into it, but he didn’t want to spend all evening trying not to look at Carol’s cleavage.

There was only so much a man could take.

He was hoping she was wearing a heavy sweater—with a turtleneck under it, if he was lucky—when Carol swung open the door.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw she was wearing a silky bathrobe that was barely staying closed.

“Hey,” she said with a breezy smile.

His whole body had clamped down over a helpless wave of attraction at the sight of her, all lush curves, tousled hair, and flushed cheeks. He managed to say, “Am I early?”

“No, no. It’s my fault. I’m running late. I’ll just be minute. Come on in.”

They’d agreed to meet at Carol’s apartment since she lived closest to the movie theater, but Emma and Noah weren’t yet there.

So as he stepped in, he was brutally aware of the fact that he was all alone in the apartment with Carol. Whose bathrobe was slipping down one shoulder. Who would be completely naked—warm and gorgeous and perfectly touchable—if he reached over and loosened the tie.

He gulped and fought a battle with his body to keep it from reacting to this knowledge.

She smiled at him. “Have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.”

He sat down on her couch, reaching into the leather saddlebag he always carried to grab his computer.

“Do you want something to drink?” Carol asked.

“No,” he said, keeping his eyes resolutely on his computer screen. “Just go get dressed.” He sounded bad-tempered, but it was the best he could do. If Carol didn’t get clothes on very soon, he was going to do something bad.

Really bad.

Really, really bad.

Unforgiveable.

To his relief, she disappeared into her bedroom, so he could relax slightly.

It would be a lot easier to be her brother’s best friend if she wasn’t quite so pretty, quite so curvy, quite so sweet.

He had almost gotten himself under control when her bedroom door swung open once again and she reappeared, still wearing that sexy little bathrobe that only came down to midthigh.

“What are you doing now?” he muttered, sounding impatient because his body had immediately jumped to attention yet again.

“You don’t have to be so grumpy about it,” she said, giving him a little glare as she hurried through the living room and over to the dining room table, on which was set a laundry basket full of clothes. “I just need a pair of socks.”

She needed to put on more than a pair of socks. He could see from the way the fabric was clinging to her rounded ass that she wasn’t even wearing underwear at the moment. He stared fixedly at the lush curve of her bottom, the dip of her waist, the swing of her long hair.

He wanted to take that robe off. He wanted to see that luscious body bared to his view, to his touch. He wanted to trace his hands along every curve and line and dip of her.

He wanted it so much he was breathless, hot, hard.

He moved his laptop strategically to make sure she wouldn’t see how much he wanted it when she turned around.

“Got them,” she said with a little smile over her shoulder.

He’d never seen anything prettier or more mesmerizing than that little smile.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

He wanted her so much he could taste, hear, feel the lust surging through him.

“What are you working on?” she asked, sounding casual and friendly as she stopped right in front of him, a pair of socks in her hand.

He grunted, unable to form a complete word at the moment.

“Was that an answer?” She had stepped even closer, and she leaned down slightly, causing her robe to dip just enough for him to see the swell of one breast.

One perfect, perfect breast.

“Patrick?” she asked, frowning at him. She was evidently completely unaware of the effect her body was having on him. If anything, she looked annoyed because he wasn’t answering her questions. “Are you in a bad mood or something?”

“No, I’m not in a bad mood!” he burst out, needing only for her to get out of his sight before he could no longer restrain himself. “I’m getting tired of waiting, and you’re just flittering around like a ditz instead of getting ready.”

He’d thought he might sound like his normal slightly grumpy self. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t at all.

He sounded mean. Just mean. Mean in a way he almost never was, certainly not to anyone as sweet and generous as Carol.

She blinked in surprise, and after a moment her flushed cheeks went pale. Her expression and voice were both stiff as she said, “Okay. Sorry.”

She turned around and went into her room without another word.

His arousal had faded with the wave of guilt and concern. He was an asshole. A total asshole.

Only an asshole would speak to Carol that way.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually done it.

Groaning, he slid his laptop back into his bag and got up. He walked to Carol’s closed door and tapped on it.

“I’m getting dressed,” she said. She was trying to sound normal, but he could tell she was upset.

She was really upset, and he was the one who had made her so.

“I’m sorry, Carol,” he called through the door.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. I never should have talked to you that way.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. And you shouldn’t say that it is. No one has the right to talk to you that way. I’m an asshole. You can say it.”

There was a moment’s silence. Then the door opened just a little. She was looking at him through the crack. “You’re an asshole,” she said.

His heart melted. It just melted. There was no one in the world like Carol. He smiled at her like a fool. “I’m sorry for being an asshole.”

She sniffed, still looking at him through the cracked door. “I forgive you for being an asshole. Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.”

They smiled at each other, and Patrick was washed with a wave of affection every bit as strong as the wave of lust he’d experienced earlier.

This wasn’t good.

It wasn’t good at all.

He cleared his throat and turned away before he pushed the door open all the way and stepped into Carol’s bedroom.

Just then his phone beeped with a text, and he heard Carol’s chirp from inside her room.

When he glanced down at the incoming text, he groaned out loud.

Emma and Noah weren’t going to be able to make the movie after all. Emma said the two of them should just go without them.

“Oh,” Carol said, evidently reading the same text. “Well, that’s kind of… What do you want to do?”

He wanted to go to the movies with Carol. Of course he did. But he knew very well if the two of them went alone it would feel like a date.

And his stupid body—and his stupid, stupid heart—would very likely get confused.

He couldn’t let it get any more confused than it already was.

“Eh,” he said. “Maybe we should just call it a night. I’m not really good company tonight.”

“Okay.” Her voice sounded small, and he wondered if he’d hurt her feelings. Maybe she thought he didn’t want to hang out with her.

It was very far from the truth, but there wasn’t anything he could do to address it.

Carol would have no way of knowing the direction his thoughts had been drifting lately, and he couldn’t risk her ever finding out.