Free Right Next Door by Debbie Macomber Page A

He wasn’t alone. A tall, slender woman with legs that seemed to go all the way up to herneck and a figure as shapely and athletic as a dancer’s was walking beside him. She was blond and, in a word, gorgeous. Robin felt as appealing as milkweed in comparison. The woman’s arm was delicately tucked in Cole’s, and she was smiling up at him with eyes big and blue enough to turn heads.
    Robin’s stomach tightened into a hard knot.
    â€œRobin,” Angela said anxiously, leaning toward her, “what is it?”
    Cole was strolling past them, and in an effort not to be seen, Robin stuck her head under the table pretending to search for her purse.
    â€œRobin,” Angela muttered, lowering her own head and peeking under the linen tablecloth, “what’s the matter with you?”
    â€œNothing.” Other than the fact that she was going to be ill. Other than the fact that she’d never been more outclassed in her life. “I’m fine, really.” A smile trembled on her pale lips.
    â€œThen what are you doing with your head under the table?”
    â€œI don’t suppose you’d believe my napkin fell off my lap?”
    â€œNo.”
    A pair of shiny black shoes appeared. Slowly, Robin twisted her head and glanced upward, squinting at the flash of sunlight that nearly blinded her. It was their waiter. Heaving a giant sigh of relief, Robin straightened. The first thing she noticed was that Cole had left.
    The huge shrimp salads were all but forgotten as Angela, eyes narrowed and elbows braced on the table, confronted her. “You saw him, didn’t you?”
    There was no point in pretending otherwise, so Robin nodded.
    â€œHe was with someone?”
    â€œNot just someone! The most beautiful woman in the world was draped all over his arm.”
    â€œThat doesn’t mean anything,” Angela said. “Don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions? Honestly, she could’ve been anyone.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Any fight left in Robin had long since evaporated. There was nothing like seeing Cole with another woman to bring her firmly back to earth—which was right where she belonged.
    â€œShe could’ve been a client.”
    â€œShe probably was,” Robin concurred, reaching for her fork. She didn’t know how she was going to manage one shrimp, let alone a whole plate of them. Heaving another huge sigh, she plowed her fork into the heap of plump pink darlings. It was then that she happened to glance across the street. Cole and Ms. Gorgeous were walking along the sidewalk, engrossed in their conversation. For some reason, known only to the fates, Cole looked across the street at that very moment. His gaze instantly narrowed on her. He stopped midstride as though shocked to have seen her.
    Doing her best to pretend she hadn’t seen him, Robin took another bite of her salad and chewed vigorously. When she glanced up again, Cole was gone.
    Â 
    â€œMom, I need someone to practice with,” Jeff pleaded. He stood forlornly in front of her, a baseball mitt in one hand, a ball in the other.
    â€œI thought Jimmy was practicing with you.”
    â€œHe had to go home and then Kelly threw me a few pitches, but she had to go home, too. Besides, she’s a girl.”
    â€œAnd what am I?” Robin muttered.
    â€œYou’re a mom,” Jeff answered, clearly not understanding her question. “Don’t you see? I’ve got a chance of making pitcher for our team if I can get someone to practice with me.”
    â€œAll right,” Robin agreed, grumbling a bit. She set aside her knitting and followed her son into the backyard. He handed her his old catcher’s mitt, which barely fit her hand, and positioned her with her back to Cole’s yard.
    Robin hadn’t been able to completely avoid her neighbor in the past week, but she’d succeeded in keeping her distance. For that matter, he didn’t seem