Free A Date With the Other Side by Erin McCarthy Page A

the virtues of her unmarried daughter and questioning Boston about his financial status.
    If he ever had the misfortune to meet Holly Danforth in per-son, he was going to run. Harriet made her daughter sound like a cross between Martha Stewart, preconviction, and Pamela Anderson, which was frightening. A woman who could bake a soufflé in a thong bikini was more than he cared to encounter in his kitchen.
    Not that he wanted to be thinking about Harriet’s daughter when Shelby was coming over in ten minutes. He had a lot of questions for Shelby Tucker, starting with why she had never bothered to mention that she had a child with her ex-husband. It wasn’t his business, he supposed, but despite all best efforts, his attraction for her had grown steadily over the week since he’d met her. He was lusting after some poor kid’s mother and that just seemed wrong.
    The doorbell rang, loud and clear even over the radio he had playing.
    “Shit.” He was still in just a towel and Shelby was early. But at least the gunk was out of his hair.
    Rubbing his body vigorously, he heard the front door open. Jesus, Shelby had used her key, which was not what they had agreed to. Or maybe they had never actually resolved that sticky little issue.
    “Boston?”
    “I’ll be down in a second,” he yelled, stepping into his boxers, water still dripping down his chest.
    Shelby’s feet were on the steps, the boards creaking as she ascended. What the hell was she doing? The bathroom door was open.
    He had one leg in his khaki pants and one leg out when she appeared in the hall.
    “Oh! God, sorry, Boston.” Her cheeks flushed beneath her golden tan, and those soft brown eyes were pained. “It’s just, I didn’t want to be alone downstairs.”
    Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “I got a little freaked out standing on the porch. Stupid, huh?”
    He dropped his pants so he’d look like less of an ass. “It’s okay. But I’ve been here all week and nothing even remotely weird has happened.”
    “Can I wait up here while you…”
    She dropped her eyes below his waist, a little blush on her cheeks, and he was amused. He didn’t recall Shelby being shy about the whole thing the first time they’d met.
    “While I put my pants on?” Boston ran his hand through his wet hair, pushing it back so it would stop dripping on his forehead. “Are you going to watch? Or are you embarrassed?”
    Eyes snapped up and she snorted. “I’ve seen you in less than that, remember.”
    He remembered. He just wished circumstances had been different. Like that she had been witnessing his penis willingly and with sexual appreciation, not gaping in horror at it like it was a car accident victim.
    Given another chance to be seen naked by Shelby, he wanted to put his best face forward. He really wanted to toss off a suggestive comment now—that maybe she repeat the experience with better results—but it came to him again that Harriet had said she’d been pregnant with Danny Tuckers child, and he stayed silent. He’d never come on to a mother before, and the idea wasn’t appealing now.
    As he grabbed his pants back off the floor, Shelby leaned against the bathroom door and stuck her hands in the pockets of her olive green shorts. “Listen, Boston, I wanted to let you know something. Obviously I heard what Harriet said to you about me and Danny, and I wanted you to know she didn’t tell you everything. I don’t have a child. Two weeks after Danny and I got married, I had a miscarriage.”
    Ouch. That made him feel like hell. He didn’t want her to have a kid, but he hadn’t meant for her to miscarry. And he hadn’t wanted her to share something so personal that obviously made her uncomfortable when he was just a passing interest, a guy renting her grandmother’s house. That was all he could be, since he was leaving in a few months.
    But that didn’t stop him from reaching out, pants dropping back to the floor, and pulling her closer to him.