Bachelor Number Four Read Online Free PDF Page B

question was, what was he leading her to?
    You’re not happy? That’s too bad , she typed and sent.
    She ought to go to bed. It was now nearing eleven, and the morning would come way too early. She stared at the computer screen so long it flickered and began to disintegrate into the screen saver again. She tapped the keyboard to stop the swirling colors. Still no new messages.
    “Stupid,” she muttered and minimized the browser window. “Go to bed, Arden. He’s not going to answer tonight.”
    She had some invoices to catch up on though, and a few items she wanted to check out online. It couldn’t hurt to surf the Net for a few more minutes. She could finish up the last bit of work so she didn’t have to do it tomorrow at the shop. She could spend more time sewing that way. Rationalize it, she told herself, but knowing what she was doing didn’t stop her from doing it.
    She opened her documents and typed up a few orders, a couple of invoices, and deleted some old correspondence she no longer needed. Then she did a few searches on some items she was looking to buy for the shop, made a few price comparisons, picked what she could afford, and ordered what she needed.
    Still no Connexmail.
    “Give it up,” she said. “Go to bed!”
    And, just before she told the computer to go into sleep mode, that magic red number appeared at the top of the window.
    Arden read the message with narrowed eyes.
     
    I didn’t say I wasn’t. I just said who said I was?
     
    Let the games begin, she thought. Her anticipation soured. Now he was toying with her, something she’d always hated about him. At least now she knew which way he was going, and it wasn’t blunt and to the point. She’d changed, though. Once upon a time she’d been willing to toss the verbal ball back and forth, but now that sort of sparring only left a bad taste in her mouth.
    “I’m past playing games,” Arden said to the screen and, with resolve, she deleted his message and all the ones before it. Then she put the computer to sleep and went upstairs to do the same.

Chapter Three
    “Could this place be any louder?” Lida grimaced, then shouted toward her son, “Way to go, Henry!”
    The boy’s grin was a perfect replica of his mother’s as he turned and did a victory dance. “I got a strike!”
    “Good job!” Lida turned back to Arden. “They must amplify the noise on purpose so we go to the bar to self-medicate our headaches.”
    Arden laughed and clapped as Maeve followed Henry. “It’s not that bad.”
    Lida pushed the plate of fries toward her. “Maybe I’m just getting old. Here. Clog your arteries.”
    Dipping a fry in ketchup, Arden waved toward Aislin as the girl took her turn. Her two girls were having a blast with Lida’s three boys and Heather’s daughter Elyse. While none of the kids looked likely to break a hundred on the score, they were all having fun.
    “They’re so cute,” Arden said.
    “Cute, schmoot. Tell me about your date.”
    “There’s not much to tell beyond what I wrote last night. It was pretty much a disaster.”
    Heather looked up from tying Elyse’s shoe, then scooted the girl back into the game. “She might know already, but I don’t. Spill the beans already.”
    Heather had been divorced for over a year. Elyse had been in Aislin’s swimming class last year, when Arden was a brand-new widow. They’d both been prone to awkward bouts of tears in public, which had immediately endeared them to each other. Thankfully, they’d both passed that stage, but if there was anyone besides Lida who could appreciate the story about Brian, it would be Heather. Arden outlined the spur-of-the-moment date, the awkward dinner, the uncomfortable ending. Heather laughed.
    “Typical guy. Puts a price on dinner like he’s saved your life. Like a burger and fries should be worth at least a handjob, right?”
    Lida laughed. “Oh, brother. With women it’s a whole different story. I tell my husband, ‘Honey, the biggest