“You’re a good woman,” Nick said and lifted his beer to her glass of water.
She laughed and clicked her glass against his. “If you say so. I still think I may be heading back to Thunder Canyon soon. My time here may be just about done.”
Nick frowned. “No. The town still needs you. We all still need you.”
She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “The truth is the pickings are a lot slimmer here than I anticipated.”
“For what?” Nick asked.
“Men,” she said.
“Ohhhh,” Nick said and leaned back in his chair. “Well, I told you that’s because you’ve been approaching this all wrong.”
Cecelia shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with my approach. I am who I am.”
Nick sighed. “I told you before. You have to sell yourself.”
“I still say that sounds like prostitution,” she said.
“It’s not,” he said. “I don’t mean it that way. You just need to put on some lipstick and flirt a little. For starters,” he said and took a swig of beer.
“Why should I have to put on lipstick? Why shouldn’t he have to put on some lipstick?”
Nick gawked at her. “Why would a guy wear lipstick?”
“That’s not the point. Why should I have to work so hard to get a guy? Why shouldn’t he have to work harder to get me?”
Nick shrugged. “Because a guy doesn’t have to work hard. We’ll eat beans and weenies and watch sports on television until some woman drives us from our cave.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said and took a long drink from her glass of water in hopes of cooling herself down.
“Ridiculous or not, it’s true. You can fight it till the cows come home, but men love the chase. They love when a woman flirts and makes an effort to win them over.”
Disgusted, she barely resisted throwing her water at Nick. She really wanted to smack him, but Cecelia was generally against violence. “Then you and all your men friends are going to miss out on the best women they could get,” she said and rose and walked away.
The next couple of days, Cecelia avoided Nick. Every time she thought about his philosophy about how to catch a man, it made her brain fry. Late Friday afternoon, as she supervised a construction site, one of the men, Bill Dayton, approached her.
“Hey there,” he said, tipping his hat.
“Hi,” she said and nodded in return. Bill was a hard worker and had always been friendly to her.
“I was thinking you and I could spend some time with each other. You want to get together tomorrow night?” he asked.
Surprised by his invitation, she paused a half beat, then asked herself why not? “What did you have in mind?”
“Dinner and just hanging out at my place,” he said. “Would that work for you?”
Cecelia swallowed a sigh. She wasn’t all that attracted to Bill, but she felt a voice on her shoulder urge her to give him a try. What did she have to lose? “Okay,” she said. “What time?”
“Four or four-thirty,” he said.
“That early?” she said.
He gave a sheepish grin. “Better to start early than late. I go to bed early,” he said.
Feeling a softening inside her, she smiled in response. “Well, thank you very much. Four-thirty will work for me.”
He nodded. “I’ll pick you up at Strickland’s.”
“That sounds good,” she said.
“I look forward to it,” he said and walked away.
The next day, Cecelia donned her nicest jeans, a new sweater and a peacoat as she tromped down the stairs to wait for Bill. Nick met her halfway down the steps and looked her up and down. “Where are you headed?” he asked.
“I have a date,” she said proudly.
Nick checked his watch. “It’s kinda early.”
“Maybe he’s eager,” she said.
Nick frowned. “Don’t let him be too eager. Don’t let him—well, compromise you,” he said.
“Compromise?” she echoed. “I’m not a teenager.”
Nick scowled. “Well, you’re no loose woman either.”
Cecelia met his gaze. “Are you calling my morals into question?”
“Not really, but—”
“No buts,” she said, waving her hands in dismissal. “Go get your dinner from Melba or some other woman. I have plans for the evening.”
Nick stared at her. “Hmm.”
“Hmm, yourself,” she said in return. “Good night.”
She stomped the rest of the way down the stairs and took a seat on the sofa in the sitting room. One minute later, she stood and began to pace.
At four thirty-five, Bill appeared at the front door of the rooming house. “Hey,” he said with a dimpled smile. “You ready?”
Hoping this date would turn out well, she smiled in return. “I’m ready. What’s the plan?”
“I thought I would take you to the grocery store so you could pick out what we would have for dinner,” he said as they walked away from the rooming house.
“Um,” she said, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Yeah. I’ve heard you’re a good cook, so this way, you and I can get the best food around,” he said.
“Oh,” Cecelia said, feeling a shot of disappointment. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Well, you seem like a practical girl. You’re a handyman and a cook.”
“Oh,” Cecelia said, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach.
“You can cook our dinner then do a little cleaning.”
She blinked at him. Disbelief rippled through her. “Clean?” she echoed.
“Sure. If you can cook and fix a pipe, then you can clean.”
Cecelia could only stare at him in surprise.
“Yeah, and after you clean, maybe you and I can spend a little time in the sack,” he said with a wink.
Cecelia counted to five. Ten was far too long. “No way,” she said. “Never in a million years.”
“Hey, I’ve heard I’m pretty good in the sack,” he said.
She turned away and headed back to the rooming house.
Furious, Cecelia stomped the entire way to the Strickland’s. She stomped up the stairs to the door and prayed she wouldn’t run into anyone who would ask questions.
She was so blind with anger, she walked straight into a hard male body.
Cecelia swore under her breath.
“Whoa,” Nick said. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Absolutely nothing.”
“I thought you had a date,” he said, looking at her curiously.
“You were wrong. I was wrong. This wasn’t a date,” she said, trying to conceal her fury.
“What