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“Yeah. I’m surprised you have a friend like that.”
“Like what?”
A wicked little gleam shone in her eyes. “Actually cool.”
“’Cause I’m so uncool?”
She lifted a sassy shoulder. “You said it, not me!”
Lucky for me, Sage had a relatively short attention span. I’d been able to move the topic right along but had a feeling I’d be hearing from Carly, and she wasn’t so easily distracted.
I couldn’t decide if I was pissed off or quietly amused. There was no one to be angry at, except the universe for putting them in the same place at the same time. But, hell, maybe meeting my kid would sway Clara to my side.
Sage was a lot better at winning people over than I was.
I picked up my phone and flipped it in my hand. Sage was in her room for the evening, and from what she’d told me, Clara would have put Nellie to bed an hour ago. Since it had become apparent I wasn’t going to get her off my mind anytime soon, I figured I might as well ask her directly how she was feeling about the meeting.
And if I was honest, I’d been jonesing for some more Clara since she left the limo Friday night.
Me: Good day at the farmers’ market?
It didn’t take long for her to reply.
Clara: Great day. How’s your cheese?
This woman…
I’d already cracked a grin, and she’d only given me five words.
Me: Already dug into. Sage and I made pizza for dinner. What’d you have?
Clara: Do you really care, or are you making small talk until you ask what you really want to?
Me: Both. I’m curious about what you get up to when you’re home. What are you wearing?
Clara: I’m not sexting you! I wouldn’t begin to know how, and you’d be terribly disappointed.
Me: Oh, sweetness, I really doubt you could disappoint me when it comes to you being sexy. But I’m more into the real thing, so get that out of your head for tonight. I want to know what you wear when you’re at home.
A couple minutes passed. I sipped my beer while I waited. The faint sounds of Sage moving around in her room, singing along to her favorite pop music, filtered in. I took another sip and realized I was relaxed. Connecting with Clara was all it took to ease my tension.
My patience was rewarded with a picture. She’d taken it in the mirror, her camera covering her face, but the rest of her was visible. White tank, black lounge pants, and a slouchy sweater, she looked sexy and cozy, especially with her hair piled messily on top of her head.
Like the thirsty man I was, I zoomed in on her tits to study the impression of her nipples in the fabric. No bra.
Me: I thought you weren’t going to sext me.
Clara: What are you talking about? I sent you a picture in my pajamas.
I snapped a picture of the tent in my sweats and sent it to her.
Me: That’s all because of you, mama. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to be sexy.
Clara: You’ve proven me right since I don’t know what to say now.
God, she was cute. I imagined her being flustered, rubbing her flushed cheeks. As much as I wanted to lean into the direction we were headed, it wasn’t all I wanted. Afraid she’d get spooked, I steered us back to safer ground.
Me: Answer my earlier question: what did you have for dinner?
