He shook his head. This was surreal. Grown men should not have conversations about women with their mothers. "Well, she doesn't like me, but I like her. A lot."
His mother reached over and patted his hand again. "Then go talk to her. Trust me. She likes you. She's just playing hard to get."
He smiled. He couldn't help it—she was trying. "I doubt it, Mum, but thanks. I think I will go and see her. She's worth another try."
She gave him that benevolent smile she used whenever he took her advice. "Good. And when you get back we can go through the weekend papers and look for a house for you."
He cocked an eyebrow. "You've changed your tune quick."
"I thought about it in the kitchen and you're right. You are cramping my style."
He chuckled. "What's his name?"
She fingered the hem of her jacket, then sighed and looked up. "Kevin. Kevin Bowcher."
"That name sounds familiar." He frowned as he crossed the living room to the front door. "Didn't I go to school with his daughters?"
A flash of alarm crossed her face. "Uh, yes. You dated them both. More or less at the same time."
"Oh, yeah."
She shooed him out the front door, then closed it behind him. He studied the crisscross of the porch tiles, recalling the twins he'd dated in high school. They were cute, but hard work. One always had to outdo the other. He'd dated Kate for two weeks then had a brief fling with Miranda after she threatened to tell her father he'd taken her sister's virginity if he didn't. And Kevin Bowcher wasn't a man to take lightly. The ex-con had a reputation for—
Ex-con!
Jeez, his mother was dating a criminal. And she thought he was the rebellious one.
CHAPTER 12
Ever since she discovered the comfort of chocolate, Maddie had liked to eat her way through a crisis. This one called for the big guns. She sat on her couch, an old Clint Eastwood movie in the video player, and surveyed the spread on her coffee table. Impressive, even by her standards. Two Snickers, a jumbo pack of M&Ms and three Dove bars. With an array like that, she could indulge herself out of any depression. Even this one.
But it proved to be a tough job requiring more than a few chocolate bars. She needed ice cream. The sinful kind, with real chocolate chips and full cream, the kind that cost more than a meal at some restaurants. But her freezer was empty. Damn, damn, damn.
She paused the video, got up and padded shoeless to the hall table where she always dropped her car keys when she arrived home. Catching a glimpse of Linda Blair's evil twin in the hall mirror, she screamed. She was used to bad hair days—unruly curls like hers guaranteed them—but this was taking the messy look too far. She shouldn't have worn it loose today. Normally she wouldn't but for some reason that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Sam said he liked it that way, she hadn't pulled it back into a ponytail.
She headed for the bedroom. If she was going out for ice cream, she needed to look half way decent. And if she had to fix herself up, why not go all the way? If she looked good, she'd feel better, right?
She shrugged at her image in the cheval mirror. A girl can only try.
She shed her track pants, over-sized T-shirt and beige underwear and rummaged in her drawer for the second set of sexy, matching lingerie she owned. This set was riskier. Linda had given it to her for her birthday a few months earlier in the hope of reviving Maddie's love life. It hadn't worked.
She located the red thong and matching lace bra at the back of her bottom drawer. She studied the thong dangling from the end of her finger. The miniscule strip of material looked like it couldn't cover a freckle let alone a woman's privates. God only knows why women wear them—what was the point? And that piece of string up there must be uncomfortable.
But hey, it was meant to make her feel good, so she might as well give it a try. And the bra was the push-up kind, like the one she wore yesterday, and that had been sexy. Right now she needed to feel sexy, just to help her out of her crappy mood. And as long as she stayed dry, no one need know what underwear she wore.
She wiggled into the thong and poured her breasts into the bra, hooking it at the front. She checked herself out in the mirror and sniggered. She looked like a hooker. Her ass and cleavage never looked so full. Her breasts were so far out there she could rest her coffee mug on them.
Next came the plunging summer dress that complemented the bra since it revealed way too much flesh. Her fingers skimmed the short hem. Heaven help her if a breeze whipped up. Now that would get heads turning, for all the wrong reasons. Or maybe it was the right reasons? She had no idea what she was doing but she was going to do it. Maddie Clarke had never taken a walk on the wild side in her life. It was about time she started.