Page 2 of Playing Doctor

Connie snorted. “Well, that just sounds like tons of fun. I know that’s how I’d want to spend my weekend out of town.”

Sadly, having actually said it aloud, Beth had to agree. When Drew had told her of his plans to hang with the guys and check out the campus, the prospect of a weekend of peace and quiet with room service a phone call away had sounded like a dream come true. Now, the more she thought about it, the less appealing it became.

After Jamie’s death, Beth had centered her existence on Drew and her job, determined to gather the shattered remnants of her life and move forward. Entering into another relationship with a man hadn’t factored into the plan. Now Drew was developing his own social life and making plans for college. In another year he would move out, and for the first time in her thirty-three years, Beth would be truly alone. Her heart hurt a little at the thought. Pre-empty-nest syndrome setting in? Maybe, but over the past few months she had come to understand the quote, you don’t have to be alone to be lonely. Lately she had been feeling a little…antsy. Kind of…restless.

Okay, just admit it. You miss sex.

There. She’d said it. Well, not out loud, but even the self-acknowledgment was liberating.

She missed sex. Everything about it—the rush of discovering mutual attraction, flirting, the push-pull dance of will-we-or-won’t-we, the brush of bodies as boundaries are tested and established, then carefully breached.

And kissing. Oh, God, she loved the feel of a man’s mouth against her lips, on her skin. She and Jamie had shared a healthy, vigorous sex life. Until he returned home from the Army. Then everything had changed.

Sharing the revelation with Connie, however, was out of the question. Her friend was just waiting, ready to pounce at the opportunity to reintroduce Beth to the dating scene. She would get to it, but in her own way, and in her own sweet time.

Connie, her sleek brown hair pulled back in a ponytail that would inevitably end up off-center before the end of her shift, drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “Your plan has potential, but is sadly flawed, my friend. It lacks imagination and has no spark, no sex. Now, if it were my plan, I would hook up with one of the groomsmen…”

Beth’s jaw dropped. It didn’t take a GPS to see where Connie was going with this. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting that I…have a one night stand with a stranger.”

“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort. Did I not say, if it were my plan?”

Beth sat back in her chair and held up a hand for peace. Once Connie bit into a subject, she hung onto it like a bull terrier. “Then by all means, please continue.”

“Thank you,” Connie gave Beth a queenly nod. “Now, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? Oh, yeah…I would hook up with one of the groomsmen and take him back to the Hilton where he’d do bad things to me in the Jacuzzi until he was limp as a noodle. And forget sipping wine.” Warming to the subject, Connie closed her eyes as if visualizing the scene. “I would lick it out of his belly button—a perfect innie.” She made a little circle with her index finger.

Connie painted a vividly appealing picture, and Beth had no problem taking the scene a bit further. That fine line of silken hair just below his navel would tempt her. She would follow it with her tongue, straight down to his…

“Clock!”

Beth jolted back to reality as a nearby toddler banged on a highchair and made his or her wishes known. While her friend’s sexy scenario held a definite appeal, Beth felt obligated and just ornery enough to inject a little reality into fantasy.

“Bellybutton lint.”

“Eeewww!” Connie opened one aggrieved eye and aimed it at Beth. “There is no belly button lint on this man. And let’s ditch the noodle part, too, because there is nothing limp in this fantasy, either. I would lick the wine off his big…throbbing…” she waggled her brows, “clock.”

“Connie!” The witch. She’d known exactly what Beth had been thinking. She glanced around to see if any of the neighboring diners had heard her remark.

“Pfft.” Connie cocked her thumb toward the wooden partition separating the dining areas. From the other side, the toddler continued to wail and bang a spoon on the highchair tray. “No one can hear me over that. Besides, the kid said it first.”

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