LITMIR.BIZ

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was still looking forward to tonight. After eight…

      Standing in front of Ad’s restaurant waiting for Kira to pick her up, Kit felt more self-conscious than she had since she was a gawky teenager in high school.

      What had she been thinking to wear these shorts? she demanded of herself.

      She’d bought them on a whim, without trying them on, and then brought them home to realize when she did slip into them that there was no way she was ever going to wear them. They were just too short.

      But she hadn’t paid a lot for them and she also hadn’t had the time to return them, so she’d packed them to bring to Northbridge with her, thinking that maybe the teenage baby-sitter Kira referred to frequently would like them.

      Yet there Kit was, wearing those shorts herself.

      And feeling really stupid in them.

      And even more stupid for why she was in them.

      She’d brought perfectly nice clothes with her. Perfectly sensible, tasteful clothes. Clothes that she looked good in and felt comfortable wearing.

      But when she’d surveyed them this morning to choose an outfit for today they’d all seemed so lifeless, so dull, so ordinary.

      Not that the clothes had changed. It was just that she’d been under the influence.

      No, she hadn’t been drinking mimosas for breakfast or anything. She’d been under the influence of Ad Walker.

      Of course he had no idea he was having any effect on her. But still he’d influenced her choice because it had been with him in mind that she’d opted for these dumb shorts. With him in mind and with the overwhelming desire to have his eyes pop right out of their sockets when he saw her.

      And she just wanted to kick herself for it.

      Yes, she’d enjoyed the reaction she’d gotten when he’d seen her a few minutes earlier. She’d even liked that his voice had suddenly gotten huskier.

      But honestly, what was the point? It wasn’t as if she wanted to start anything with Ad. It wasn’t as if she should care whether or not he noticed her at all.

      He was just a guy. The best friend of her best friend’s fiancé. They were going to be in a wedding together. They would see each other off and on this week in connection with that, and then they would go their separate ways.

      So why did having him notice her, having him like what he was seeing, feel like such a big deal to her?

      And that wasn’t the only question she asked herself. There were more to go with that one.

      Like, why had he been on her mind almost since the minute she’d set eyes on him? And why had she gone to bed last night wondering where on the other side of their shared wall he might be sleeping himself? And in what? And why had he been the first thing she’d thought about when she’d woken up this morning?

      Okay, she reasoned, she’d met an attractive man—a man so powerfully attractive that he’d canceled out her better judgment and the lessons she had learned, and caused her to backslide.

      But that didn’t mean that it had to go any farther than giving in to the impulse to wear these shorts.

      She just wouldn’t let anything else like this happen from here on. As soon as she got to Kira’s house she would borrow something from her friend, take off the shorts and get rid of them forever. And she would make sure that she kept everything—including Ad Walker—in perspective.

      She was only in Northbridge for this week. And Ad Walker was nothing more than one of several members of the wedding party. Someone she needed to be polite and cordial to, and nothing more.

      So what if he had incredible aquamarine eyes, and a chiseled chin, and a body that was big and muscular and irresistible enough to weaken women’s knees from coast to coast?

      So what if her knees felt a little weak just picturing him in her mind? So what if her pulse picked up a little speed at the thought that she was going to get to spend some time alone with him tonight?

      Where she could sneak peeks at that fabulous derriere of his. And hear his voice. And his laugh. And make him smile so she could see those deep dimples that creased his cheeks when he did….

      Maybe she should keep the shorts on…

      No! No! No! she silently shrieked at herself when she realized where her thoughts had wandered. Again.

      She had to stop doing that. She had to stop drifting off into those mini-daydreams and fantasies of Ad Walker. She had to keep her focus on the wedding, on Kira. She had to remember that when it came to men—no matter how handsome or personable or sexy or interesting or funny or fun—she had to pass. She had to. She’d made the decision to suspend her men-privileges for good reason and she intended to stick to it.

      No matter how difficult sticking to her guns might be with a man like Ad Walker right under her nose.

      Just then a station wagon pulled up to the curb in front of her. Kira was behind the wheel, and Kit nearly leaped into the passenger seat when the car stopped.

      “I need to borrow some more conservative shorts or some jeans or something,” she announced without even saying hello.

      “Okay,” Kira said, sounding confused.

      “This is the first time I’ve had these on and I don’t like them.”

      “They are pretty short,” Kira agreed. “But I can wait while you go up and change if you want. There’s no hurry.”

      There might not be any hurry but if Kit went back upstairs to change that would mean she might run into Ad. And if she ran into Ad she might have to explain what she was doing. And he might realize she’d temporarily lost her mind. Over him.

      But rather than saying any of that to Kira, Kit said, “I hate to go all the way through the restaurant. I’ll just wear something of yours and you can see if your baby-sitter wants these. I’ll need a rubber band to put my hair up, too. I shouldn’t have left it down today. It’ll drive me crazy.”

      “Okay,” Kira repeated. “Are you all right?”

      Apparently either what Kit had said or the fact that she sounded desperate spurred her friend’s concern or curiosity.

      “Just uncomfortable in these shorts,” Kit lied.

      Uncomfortable in the shorts and in her skin and with just being in the same town Ad Walker was in.

      “Okay,” Kira said a third time, still with a query in her voice.

      But at least she put the car into motion and drove Kit away from the general proximity of Ad Walker.

      Unfortunately for Kit, though, even distance from the man didn’t dilute her response to him or the fact that she was going to be seeing him again that evening.

      Which brought a tiny tingle of excitement at the prospect.

      Excitement she knew she should absolutely not be feeling.

      Under ordinary circumstances she would have confided in Kira everything she was thinking—and doing—in regard to Ad Walker. They would have talked about it all, laughed about it, aired it out, and she would likely have felt better. Kira would also likely have put it into perspective, which would have helped Kit understand what was going on and that might have allowed her to beat into submission the fledgling, unwanted attraction to him.

      But despite spending all day and through dinner that evening with Kira, Kit didn’t get the opportunity to talk to her best friend privately.

      During the ten-minute drive to Kira and Cutty’s new house, Kira laid out a hectic schedule for that day and for the rest of this last week before the wedding. And when they reached the two-story colonial that Kira and Cutty and the twins had moved into, it was a beehive of activity and commotion.

      Cutty was there trying to

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