tiny house she was staying in and headed down the street. Dinner with the girls was just what she needed. They tried to get together every other Sunday for girls’ night out, but this was an extra treat. Lauren had wanted to try the new French restaurant in town and Isabelle had just finished up a big project that had kept her working late for weeks, so they had a good excuse for a weekday night out.
The restaurant was only four blocks away, so she’d decided not to drive. If she walked, she’d have the perfect excuse to accept a ride later.
Even if— when, she ordered herself—even when she told him who she was, he still might offer a ride home. It’d be very late, after all. And a ride would be a pleasant consolation prize, pressed against his broad back with that black-and-chrome machine between her thighs. That was a hell of a lot more than nothing.
Her heels clicked against the wooden boardwalk when she reached the first touristy block of town. It was cool tonight, but she never minded that. She loved the breeze sneaking over her silk-clad legs. She loved the cool air in her lungs and the scent of turning aspen on the breeze. Fall was her favorite time of year. It felt like the world was holding its breath for something exciting.
She tried to tell herself she wasn’t doing the same thing as she reached the restaurant and glanced up the block to the loud touristy restaurant she’d visit later.
Lauren and Isabelle were already enjoying wine by the time she spotted them and hurried to the table. “Sorry I had to work so late.”
“We’re sorry we had to start without you,” Lauren said with a grin. “You look adorable as usual,” she added as she stood to give Sophie a big hug.
“You, too. And you!” Sophie said as she hugged Isabelle. “You’re alive!”
“Barely,” Isabelle said drily. “Just don’t look at my nails.” She held up her hands to show off her paint-stained cuticles. Sophie didn’t mention the streak of green oil paint on her collarbone. It clashed with the silky red shirt she wore.
She and Lauren had gotten to know Isabelle at the library where she often arranged to borrow expensive books from state universities. Her painting demanded very specific types of research, so she came in fairly often, distracted and color-streaked. She normally wore old jeans and sweaters, so Sophie was surprised to see the deep red flowy blouse she wore tonight. “You look so pretty. Are you wearing heels?” she gasped.
Isabelle stuck out her foot to show off cute black wedge boots. “Ugh. Yes. I’m considering getting laid sometime this decade. My neighbor talked me into ordering these online.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have any trouble getting laid if you left the house more often than once a month.”
“I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t know why a man can’t be delivered along with my art supplies.”
Sophie grinned. “Maybe you could advertise for models.”
“That probably wouldn’t go over well once they realized my specialty. Anatomical paintings sound fun until you realize it’s not a euphemism.”
“It could be,” Lauren insisted, with a tip of her glass. “These snowboarding bums are always looking for a few dollars. And they’re in very, very nice shape.”
Isabelle’s normally serious face got even more serious for a moment. “Hmm.”
Sophie snorted. “Oh, my God, she’s actually thinking about it. Let’s just make clear that Lauren and I would be happy to pose as art students to make this happen.”
“Oh, yeah,” Lauren agreed. “We’d do it for you, Isabelle. Goodness of our hearts and all that.”
“Screw you,” Isabelle said. “You’ve got a naked man to look at any time you want.”
“Hey!” Sophie interrupted, bumping Lauren’s arm. “Didn’t you say your mom was here to visit? Why didn’t you bring her along?”
“She’s in bed already. She said she was tired, but I think she wanted a few hours of alone