Free Sex and the Widow Miles (The Women of Willow Bay) by Nan Reinhardt Page A

he was attracted to me? That particular declaration had stuck in my head like a frickin’ earworm.
    Maybe I should sleep with him and get it over with. Clearly, the heat between us wasn’t going away. I could pretend that fire didn’t exist, but when it flared like it did tonight, I had a hard time ignoring it. Maybe the sex would be terrible—hell, what did I know from good sex? The only person I’d ever been with was Charlie. We always had a very nice time in bed, at least as far as I was concerned, and he never complained.
    But what if I slept with Will and the experience turned out… bad ? What if we got naked and he was disgusted by my older body? I’d always taken good care of myself, but the effects of gravity after fifty-two years and the pale streaks on my belly from carrying babies were pretty evident—all the things Charlie had said he loved. Surely Will was used to younger, more toned, more experienced, sexier women. Idiot! Of course he was.
    I finished the wine and tried to put him out of my mind. Eventually, I would have to deal with my attraction to Will—probably sooner than later—but tonight, he’d been the one to stop. He’d walked out after one kiss. Maybe I wasn’t what he wanted anymore. Maybe it had occurred to him that he was kissing a woman who was way older than him and he’d lost his taste for cougar.
    What a disheartening thought.
    I smacked my forehead. What was I thinking! This game of emotional volleyball was wearing me out.
    As I put the dishes in the dishwasher, my mind turned to Charlie. What would he think about Will? He’d always told me that if anything ever happened to him, I should go out and find some young stud and raise him up the way I wanted him. Charlie had been eight years older than me and already kind of set in his ways when we met. We joked all the time about me being his child bride. I’d done most of the adjusting in our marriage and was always happy for it to be that way. He’d raised me up the way he wanted me, no question about that. I became the perfect doctor’s wife. He always said so.
    “ Ah, Charlie.” I sighed and tossed the damp tea towels in the laundry room. “God, I miss you. I need your wisdom. I don’t know what’s right, but this guy is getting to me. Couldn’t you just give me a little sign? Maybe a quick flash of lightning if it’s okay for me to try Will Brody on for size.” A glance around reassured me I was alone in the kitchen. Anyone who overheard me would be convinced I’d lost my mind, talking out loud to my dead husband. I peered out the window. No streak of lightning—the Chicago sky was dark except for the city lights reflected in Lake Michigan.
    Thanks a bunch, Charlie. You are no help at all.
    Grabbing my reading glasses from the bar , I wandered over to the computer and lifted the lid. The laptop hummed to life and Charlie’s wallpaper appeared—a photo taken from the top of our beach steps, looking north up the shoreline of Lake Michigan toward Sleeping Bear Dune. A wave of homesickness washed over me. The view of the lake from my family room window was entirely different from Carrie and Liam’s Chicago view. City lights gave an eerie yellow reflection to the water beyond, and I missed the blue-gray chop of the winter lake in Willow Bay.
    Plopping in the chair, I clicked the browser, ready to check my email, then map out details of the fashion show so I ’d have some hard facts for Sarah tomorrow. Money for a venue and a caterer was going to be the main issue, but I was hoping to get plenty of donations. Plus I figured I could convince Carrie to help me sell tickets. I’d considered a luncheon on a Sunday afternoon, maybe at a hotel. But a dinner dance would be fun too. My mind whirled as I scribbled a few notes and waited for webmail.
    Will was right, having the email program set up for my account would be a ton easier than going through the Internet every time I wanted to check my messages. Maybe it was a