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Carly would rather finish off that chocolate éclair, even if it was now smooshed by the cushion of the recliner, but she reluctantly did as her neighbors suggested. She wasn’t entirely sure why, though. Maybe because they were right. She had been hiding, licking her wounds. And it was time she got back on track.
She had a lot going for her. A nice house, a generous divorce settlement. A body that, after she starved herself for a couple of weeks and worked out like a fiend, would soon be back in shape.
God forbid she keep oinking out on Tasty Dream Donuts. She’d be as big as her mother in no time at all.
A twinge of guilt reared its head.
Carly hadn’t meant that in a bad way. She loved her mom and missed her, but the weight the middle-aged woman had been carrying for the past twenty-five years wasn’t healthy and could lead to heart disease or a stroke. It had also kept her housebound.
Years ago, Carly, her sister and their mom had been close, clinging to each other through difficult times. But they’d all developed eating disorders, although Carly had overcome hers.
Oh yeah? that pesky, small voice asked. What about that smooshed éclair resting in the paper bag under the cushion of the recliner?
Okay. So maybe she might not have kicked hers completely. But with Greg gone, she’d rebelled from her rigid daily workouts and those brutal carb and fat restrictions. And to be honest, she was enjoying the temporary break. Maybe a bit too much.
But she’d get back on track.
As Carly climbed the circular stairway to her bedroom, she made a mental note to call her mother again this evening. It had been a week, and Carly wanted to check on her, maybe find out if the new diet program, a special study her doctor had encouraged her to take part in, was still working.
Her mother’s obesity was slowly killing her, the doctor had told her during her last visit. Her knees were giving out on her, her cholesterol and triglycerides were dangerously high.
But that was something only her mom could do something about.
Carly had, of course, gone to great lengths not to let history repeat itself. And she wasn’t about to let her eating habits get out of control.
But she wouldn’t put on a swimsuit without a cover-up, either. Not with the tummy pooch she’d developed over the past month. It had been a long time since she’d been anything but toned and lean. And the thought of having anyone see her imperfections was enough to make her sick.
Not in a binge and purge sort of way. That had been her sister’s routine.
But Carly’s divorce had blindsided her, hitting her hard, pulling the proverbial rug out from under her. Greg and their marriage had been her whole life, but it was time to right her world and restore her battered self-esteem.
Besides, who would see her at the community pool?
Bo Conway glanced up from his work on the bathhouse at the pool as three women strolled through the wrought-iron gate and chose a couple of lounge chairs just a few feet away from where he’d set up his tools. He nearly shrugged them off, along with the other sunbathers and swimmers, until he recognized a sweet, sexy Texas drawl and recognized the stunning blonde with blue eyes and a dynamite smile.
Carly Banning—or rather, Alderson now—was a beautiful woman who worked hard at her appearance.
Too hard, if you asked him.
She even had a state-of-the-art gym built in the basement of the McMansion, which had cost her ex-husband, Greg Banning, a pretty penny. But unlike a lot of wealthy housewives with too much time and money on her hands, she actually used her gym.
Bo had done a lot of work at the Bannings’ place, a major renovation that had been the talk of the town, so he had some insight regarding the recently divorced couple that their neighbors didn’t have.
In fact, Bo was one of the few people who hadn’t been surprised to hear of the breakup. Not that he’d heard them fight. But he’d felt the tension between them and sensed the loneliness that permeated the walls of the McMansion, even when Greg and Carly had been in the same room.
Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t like them both. Or that he wasn’t sorry to hear of the divorce. Marital commitments were meant to last. And that was something Bo had strong feelings about—enough that he often observed couples, watched the way they treated each other, the way they showed affection. It had been something his uncle Roy had told him during one of their many discussions about life, love and the pursuit of happiness.
“A guy can learn a lot by just opening up his eyes and ears,” Roy had said.
So Bo made a habit of people watching, couple watching. And he’d decided Roy had been right.
A few months ago, while working at the McMansion, a house that was entirely too big and gaudy as far as Bo was concerned, he’d come upon a teary-eyed Carly—or Mrs. B., as he’d called her then—sitting in an easy chair with a glass of milk and a bag of Oreo cookies.
“My drug of choice,” she’d said.
For a woman who was damn near perfect and who worked out like crazy, it seemed counterproductive to be wolfing down a jillion calories.
He’d also been taken aback by the vulnerability in her gaze, by the waif who seemed to peer out at him from eyes glistening with raw emotion.
Originally, Bo had pegged Carly as being self-centered. But she’d always treated him kindly and never patronized him as some of his clients did. And soon his heart had gone out to her—as it was doing again today.
A couple of times, out of the corner of his eye, he caught her glancing his way, yet not in the form of a come-on. They’d kind of…well, he didn’t know exactly. Connected, he supposed.
Her husband had a business to run, so she’d spent a lot of time overseeing both the construction and the remodel of the McMansion. But not in a bothersome way. She’d been truly interested, involved. And she’d also listened to reason when he had to tell her one or another of her ideas wouldn’t work.
There was something else that had tugged at his heart, played on his sympathy.
When she was deep in thought or stressed, she had a habit of gnawing on her bottom lip in a way that made her porcelain outside peel away, revealing a flesh-and-blood woman inside.
Still, he’d minded his own business, knowing better than to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.
Besides, he had a dream to chase, a future to secure.
Yet at this particular moment he couldn’t help eavesdropping on the women’s conversation, words not meant for his ears.
“I think it’s time we go out to dinner and open a bottle of champagne,” the attractive brunette told Carly. “We need to celebrate your freedom and christen your new life.”
His former client didn’t look too happy with that suggestion.
“All you need to do is find another man,” the other woman added. “You’ll be back on track before you know it.”
“That’s a lot easier said than done.” Carly, who wore a large blue T-shirt that masked a shapely body, covered a lounge chair with a bright yellow-and-red-striped beach towel. “I’ve been married so long that I wouldn’t even know what to do on a date.”
“It’s like riding a bike,” the brunette said, taking a sip of her bottled water. “It’ll all come back to you. And you’ll realize there’s a lot to be said about being single.”
“I still feel married,” Carly said. “And I poured so much of myself into my marriage that I’m not even sure who I am anymore.”
Too bad, Bo thought, as he continued to work out of sight, but within hearing range. It was important for a person to know who she or he was, what they wanted out of life. In fact, he’d figured that out a long time ago.
He’d just purchased a piece of property where he would build a custom home for himself and the big family he hoped to someday have—all boys, if he had anything to say about it.
Of course, he’d need to find a wife first. But not just any wife.
Bo wanted a woman who would be not only his lover, but his best friend and a committed partner in life. Someone like him who would be willing to work hard and make a marriage work. A team player who would go the extra distance and wouldn’t see divorce as an option.
Over the years, Bo had met plenty of women who seemed to be ready to settle down. But they usually lost interest when they found out he wasn’t a suit-and-tie kind of guy, a man they could mold into someone else.
But he wasn’t in any hurry. He’d find the right woman someday.
Still, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for Carly. Or feeling as though he ought to reach out to her, offer a few suggestions. Give her some insight into what might have gone wrong in her marriage.
She’d have to ask, though.
And that wasn’t likely. She was a beautiful woman who wouldn’t be single for long.
Besides, Bo was practically a stranger and didn’t hobnob with her circle.
He studied his handiwork on the extension to the bathhouse. Not bad. His work here was done for the day.
As he packed up his tools, he heard a vehicle drive up, and glanced out into the parking lot. He didn’t give much thought about the car that pulled in beside his pickup. Not until Greg Banning got out with an attractive blonde, a couple of kids and another woman.
Damn. He hoped things didn’t blow sky-high, because it was pretty obvious neither Carly nor Greg expected to see the other at the community pool.
A part of him wanted to give Carly a heads-up, a friendly warning. To rescue the lovely damsel in distress.
But who was he to interfere?
It was best if he got his crap together and headed out to the parking lot before things got…ugly.
“Hey,” Rebecca said as she prepared to climb into the hot tub, removing her cover-up and revealing a new black swimsuit and the body to properly show it off. “Did you see that cute guy working on the bathhouse? I wonder who he is.”
Carly looked toward the brick building and spotted Bo Conway, one of the carpenters who’d done the renovations on her house a couple of months ago, folding up a ladder.
“Actually, I know him. His name is Bo,” she told them. “He’s a carpenter. And a very good one.”
He was also an attractive man, with a glimmer in his eyes and a single dimple that formed on one cheek when he smiled. He was rugged in an artsy sort of way. Solid, dependable, down-to-earth.
When he’d worked at the McMansion, Carly had often studied him from a distance, although she didn’t think he knew she found him…interesting. Appealing.
More than once she’d wondered if he was seeing anyone or if he’d like to meet a nice, single woman. If so, she would have been happy to set something up. Yet whenever she tried to think of someone suitable, the woman fell short.
Molly, who had yet to take off the sundress that hid her bathing suit, reached into what looked like a briefcase and carried a couple of files and her reading glasses to the hot tub.
“You brought work with you to the pool?” Carly asked.
“Just some material I need to look over.” Molly took a seat beside Carly on the edge of the tub and dangled her feet into the hot, bubbly water. “Your friend the carpenter is good-looking. Is he single?”
“I assume so. He doesn’t wear a ring.”
“A lot of construction workers don’t for safety reasons.” Rebecca lowered herself into the tub, grimacing slightly at the temperature. “Either way, he’s sure been watching you, Carly.”
“Me? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Bo had always treated her with the utmost respect and been very professional. There’d never been anything even the slightest bit flirty going on between them. Not even after Greg moved out and it was apparent Carly was single. And vulnerable.
But the thought that he might be looking at her caused her heart to flutter in an adolescent way.
She glanced his way, caught his gaze, then quickly turned her head.
Had he been watching her?
Nah. Couldn’t be.
Yet even though there was no reason in the world why she should be so uncomfortable about making eye contact, why her heart would kick up a notch…
Oh, for Pete’s sake. She tugged at the hem of her extra-large T-shirt, which hid a multitude of sins…or rather, doughnut binges. If anything, Bo probably wondered why in the heck she’d come out in public looking like this.
“You know what?” Molly asked. “I think he’s interested in you. He keeps glancing your way with this…I don’t know, kind of a sweet, puppy-dog look in his eyes.”
“Bo?” Carly didn’t have to feign her surprise.
“That’s the one.”
Carly shrugged off the comment. After all, Bo, a self-employed artisan, was so completely down-to-earth he didn’t seem interested in the drama of suburbia. And Carly had fought long and hard to be queen of Danbury Way.
Yeah, right. Queen of an enormous mansion in New York State where her only companion was an echo of the haunting voice of a father who still pointed out her deficiencies within the cold silence.
Rebecca nodded her head toward the bathhouse. “Why don’t you make the first move. Before he leaves.”
“Oh, cut it out.” Carly rolled her eyes. “I’d never do that.”
“Why not?”
For a lot of reasons. She wasn’t that bold, for one. But she offered the one that seemed the most logical. “Because I still feel married, remember?”
Before either of her friends could counter with an argument, the wrought-iron gate swung open and several children dashed inside, followed by three smiling adults.
Carly’s heart pounded in her chest as she recognized Megan’s sister, Angela, and her kids.
That in itself would have been enough to cause Carly to make excuses and skedaddle.
But when Greg walked through the gate, with Megan on his arm—the woman he’d chosen as her replacement—all Carly wanted to do was slip into the hot tub and drown a lobster’s death.
The paunch in her belly seemed to swell and fold into Jabba the Hutt proportions. And all she could think of was getting the heck out of here. Quick.
Okay, so Greg and Megan, whose smiles had completely evaporated into the summer breeze the moment they’d spotted her, were probably uncomfortable, too. But they had each other to commiserate with. Carly was alone. And not up for any of this.
“Oh, my God, Carly. I’m really sorry about that. I never expected them to come here today.”
Whether it was Rebecca or Molly commenting, Carly wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she had to escape before she fell apart.
And she had to do it now.
She quickly looked at her right arm, where her wristwatch was supposed to be. “Gosh. I can’t believe how late it is. I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll take you home,” Molly said.
“Don’t bother. Enjoy the sun.” Carly forced a hollow smile. “I’d really prefer to walk. I need the exercise.”
