Free Bearded Dragon by Liz Stafford Page A

her better. Man, she hadn’t aged well at all. Glenn had said she was in her mid-thirties, but this woman looked fifty at least. Ten minus-points. Good thing he’d reserved a table at Patchouli’s—it had lots of dark corners.
    He sat on the edge of a micro-fiber sofa totaling up the pluses and minuses that were, so far, heavily in the minus category. She had remained standing. He knew it was a ploy to keep the upper hand…to be the alpha. Fine. Just get the freaking night over with. Man, was he going to kill Glenn big-time.
    “Nice weather lately,” was all his brain could think of saying. The dumb-ass comment prompted him to start a plus-minus list for himself.
    “It is,” she said, “mild for this time of year.”
    “What did you think of that Super Bowl?”
    Her frown said she was the only person on the face of the planet who hadn’t watched the game. Okay, so he couldn’t make general conversation. A minus-point for him.
    Shoot, since when did he have a dating chart?
    “Um, we have a seven o’clock reservation,” he said.
    “Wanda will be right down. She’s running a little late.”
    “She’s— You’re—”
    She stepped forward. “I guess I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Beverly, Wanda’s mother.”
    Her mother? Wanda still lived at home? Minus-points pierced him like bullets and warning alarms blared so loud in his head that he couldn’t help slamming his hands to his ears.
    “Are you all right?”
    He lowered his hands and clasped them in his lap. “Huh?”
    “You look like you’re about to throw up.”
    “No. No, everything’s fine.” While Beverly went to shout for Wanda to hurry, Carlton began restoring the ten minus-points he’d given for misinterpreting her age and living situation, till he realized he might be minusing again in a minute anyway.
    Steps sounded on the stairs. She was wearing heels. Walked without hesitation. Plus-point. A shadow appeared on the wall. Carlton stood, swiped his palms on his thighs and stepped toward the hallway.
     

Chapter Two
     
    Wanda had been nervous all day. So nervous she’d misfiled the paperwork on the Tender Hearts Clinic expansion. So nervous, her panties were soaked all day. So nervous, she’d sideswiped a guy and actually left him standing in the street. Thankfully there’d been no damage to his car or she would be in even worse trouble when the cops come to the house.
    But she couldn’t be late. She’d had her eye on Carlton Roberts since their sophomore year in high school. She’d watched his journey through vet school. He made it to the top of his career, worked at a prestigious clinic here in LA where they called him the Bearded Dragon—not for his personality but for his rescue efforts toward the much-maligned reptile. His picture in the clinic’s newspaper ad showed he hadn’t changed in all these years. Except for the beard, which Wanda thought gave him character.
    He’d never been married. Had one close call though. The woman had left him at the altar. Wanda thought the woman needed her head examined, but all in all, leaving him was a good thing. As he remained single, Wanda’s day could come.
    So, this was her chance—her only chance, no doubt. She would not screw it up; hence the mad Toyota-swiping dash home tonight.
    She fluffed her hair off her shoulders wondering if she should’ve worn it up. People said it looked better up. But the doorbell rang and putting it up would’ve made her even later so she pinned up each side in gold barrettes. Wanda slipped into two-inch heels. She’d planned on higher heels—liking the way they made her legs look, but at five foot ten, she feared towering over him. Nothing men liked less than—well, there were probably lots of things men liked less, she just hoped she didn’t find out about any of them tonight.
    Wanda clip-clopped down the stairs, then stepped around the corner and into the living room. There he stood, in the flesh. Did he recognize her? Probably not.