Crystal had asked a lot from her friend. He was still convinced Pia would go through with having the babies, even if she hadn’t figured that out yet. But he wondered if she really knew what she was getting into.
THE FUNDRAISER FOR THE SCHOOL might have technically lasted only a day, but it had put Pia behind by an entire week. An amount that probably didn’t sound like much, she thought as she stared at her scheduling board. But Fool’s Gold had a festival every single month. Some were smaller than others, but work was always involved. With success came hours of behind-the-scenes planning.
Summer was the busiest time, but fall was a close second. The city Halloween Party was barely six weeks away, and before that was the Fall Festival. The Thanksgiving Parade was after the Halloween Party but before the Christmas Gift Bazaar. The Saturday Day of Giving led into the Live Nativity outdoor service, which was the Sunday before Christmas. Then there was New Year’s and so on.
One project at a time, she reminded herself, making notes on her dry-erase calendar. That’s how she got through. It’s not as if any of the events were new. The plans pretty much stayed the same. She had master lists that were cross-referenced, decorations stored all over town. If this ever got old, she could probably apply to run the world. There were—
She paused and stared at the calendar square. Instead of noting when she needed to arrange to have chairs and booths pulled out of storage, she’d drawn a string of little hearts. Although sweet, it wasn’t exactly helpful. Worse—she knew the cause.
Raoul’s kiss.
No matter how many times she told herself he hadn’t meant anything by it, she couldn’t get her gut, or her heart, to believe it. That one little second of contact had changed everything. Suddenly he wasn’t just Raoul, someone she knew, he was a guy. And because he was a guy, she had to be careful around him, which she didn’t like.
Awareness was everything, she thought grimly. Two days ago, he’d been everyone’s definition of tall, dark and handsome, but she hadn’t really cared. He’d witnessed her at her hysterical best, had dealt with it winningly and she’d thought of him as a friend.
Now she found herself thinking about that stupid kiss two or three hundred times a day. She’d wondered why he’d done it, wished he would do it again, imagined him doing more than kissing her. It was pathetic, not to mention a waste of time.
She didn’t have a type, but if she did, it wasn’t him. He was too perfect. In all her “happily ever after” fantasies, the guy in question had been normal. Maybe even boring. Boring was dependable. With boring, a girl had a shot at the guy not leaving. But Raoul? He was heartbreaker material even when he wasn’t trying.
“It was just a kiss,” she whispered to herself. “Let it go.”
Good advice. And someone, somewhere, would probably take it. Just not her. Not when she could feel the light brush of skin on skin, feel the heat of him and wish…
She lightly bumped her head against the wall, hoping to gently pound some sense into herself. Maybe the problem wasn’t that Raoul was not her type, maybe the problem was more generic than that. Maybe if she’d had more kissing in her life, she wouldn’t feel like she had to read too much into what had happened. Maybe she should date.
Pia rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Like that’s going to happen.”
If she went ahead with the embryos implantation, her dating days were long over. Besides, she’d never exactly excelled in the man department. They always left, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what she was doing to drive them away.
The door to her office pushed open. Pia glanced up and was surprised when Raoul strolled in.
He looked good, she thought, telling herself to make sure she looked cool and sophisticated. Barring that, she should try to avoid appearing desperate or needy.
“Hi,” she said, going for cheerful. “I haven’t had an emotional crisis today so we can’t possibly have an appointment.”
Instead of seeming impressed by her sparkling wit, he stared at her with an intensity that made her wonder if she’d dropped a bit of breakfast on the front of her shirt. As casually as she could, she glanced down. All seemed well.
“Pia,” he said, moving toward her. “We have to talk.”
Not exactly words one expected to hear from a macho guy. “Okay,” she said slowly. “What about?”
Maybe he’d been as rocked by the kiss as she had been. Maybe he wanted to kiss her again and make her his love monkey. A week or two of intense male attention would probably cure her allergies.
“I’ve been doing research on in vitro fertilization,” he said.
She plopped down on her chair and held in a sigh. So much for the love monkey invitation. “That’s more than I’ve done,” she admitted. “Is that what we’re going to talk about? Because if it’s anything gross, I don’t want to know. I have a weak stomach.”