Up to Date (Better Date than Never Book 8) by Susan Hatler Read Free Book Online Page B

affinity for micro-management.
    “Ginger?” Her right brow rose. “Just talk to me. Are you worried about your date tomorrow night?”
    “My what? Oh, right . . .” I sighed, having totally forgotten about my date with Trenton Davis tomorrow night. Probably a million women would die to go out with Rochelle Richards’s ex, but I could only concentrate on the guy who was wrong for me. “I’m not sure what to think about Trenton. He’s nice. Kaitlin thinks we’ll make a good couple, but his fascination with all things financial doesn’t exactly make me melt.”
    Suddenly, the lyrics of “Reunited” by Peaches and Herb rolled through my brain—the tune continuing in a whistle. Totally swoon-worthy. I brought my wrist to my forehead. Why couldn’t I get Greg out of my head?
    Rach cleared her throat. “You’re obviously distracted. Does this have anything to do with that guy you ran into at the fundraiser Friday night?”
    My eyes popped open. “How do you know about him?”
    “Kaitlin told me.” Rach picked up a scented diffuser, sniffed the top, then held it out for me to take a whiff. “She said you got all gooey over a hot guy. Ryan’s friend or something.”
    “They’ve been buddies since elementary school,” I said, breathing in sandalwood. The oil reminded me of a run through the woods. Definitely Greg. I turned it over to check the price. “That’s actually delicious.”
    Just like Greg smelled. . . .
    “I’m helpful sometimes.” Rach smiled, then sampled another diffuser. “Maybe you could put in a good word about me with my BFF. Tell Ellen how awesome I am so she doesn’t freak as much when I blow her shower.”
    “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.” I smirked, throwing her words back at her. “The point of a baby shower is to enjoy yourself.”
    “The shower, yes. The planning, not so much.” She eyed some figurines at the end of the aisle, lifting a small angel in a blue robe. “This is darling.”
    My eyes widened. “That won’t go with a man’s den.”
    She rolled her eyes. “For Ellen’s baby, silly.”
    “In that case, it’s adorable.” I smiled, then glanced at the rest of the display, my gaze locking on a large bronze statue of a kitten. He sat tall, wearing a focused expression, his front paw frozen as he was about to bat a roll of yarn. My breath caught. “Oh, my . . . this is perfect.”
    I pictured the beautiful chest of drawers against Greg’s living room wall. A flat-screen TV occupied the top, hiding the chest’s beauty. I could move the piece into Greg’s den and this statue would be perfect on top. Maybe add a lamp to highlight the statue, and a frame next to it with a personal photo. . . .
    Twenty minutes later, we checked out at the register. Rach had purchased the darling angel for Ellen and I had all of the personal touches needed to transform Greg’s den. All I had left to do was stop by the mall after work to pick up the curtains and accent pillows I’d put on hold.
    Walking back to the office, Rach expressed her worries about throwing Ellen the world’s best baby shower. She was terrified she’d blow this once in a lifetime occasion. Since I’d already tried to calm her down, this time I smiled and nodded, letting her get her concerns off her chest.
    My cell phone gave a ping ping , alerting me that I had a text message. So I discreetly reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. Greg Shaffer’s name appeared across my screen. Chills tingled through me, and I opened the message: How’d the shopping go?
    I glanced at the time. One o’clock, which was the middle of the night for him since he worked the graveyard shift. Mom, Mary Ann, and I had tiptoed around the house growing up when Dad had worked nights. My fingers flew over the keys and I typed: Aren’t you supposed to be getting your rest right now?
    Ping! Ping!
    Sliding my finger over the screen, I read: Couldn’t be helped. Woke up thinking about you.
    My stomach heated, so I