She sighed. “Tell me about it.”

“With someone you can trust.”

She looked toward the door. “Easier said than done.”

“Let me take you out.”

Her head jerked up and her gaze met his. “What?”

Yeah, what exactly. He couldn’t believe he’d said that. But now that he had . . .

“You heard me. Let me take you out. We’ll go out somewhere and eat. Use forks and knives. Have a nice conversation and a drink. Then I’ll take you home, walk you to your front door, and call it a night.”

She had this wary look on her face that would have made him laugh if he wasn’t sure she was taking this so seriously.

“That’s it?”

He grinned at her. “Well, that’s not how I usually do it, but for you, sure. That’s it.”

She frowned. “How do you . . . usually do it?”

“Look, Emma. I’m not the dating type. But I like you. And I can see you want to ease into this. I want to help. I want to be your friend.”

Her gaze narrowed. “My friend.”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m not your type.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied I wasn’t the type of woman you typically did . . . whatever it is you do with women, since you just said you’re not the dating type.”

He resisted rolling his eyes. This was why he didn’t like having extended conversations with women. It usually led to him getting in trouble for something he said that he didn’t really say, but the woman thought he meant what he didn’t say in the first place.

Women drove him crazy.

“I didn’t imply anything. I just asked you out on a date.”

She crossed her arms, only this time it was in irritation, not defensiveness. “I don’t need a pity date, Luke.”

Shit. Foot-in-mouth struck again. “I don’t pity you. I like you.”

“You already said that. As a friend, of course.”

He clenched his jaw. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No. I love being your BFF. It’s exactly how I want you thinking of me. Thanks for the offer, Luke, but I’ll pass. If you have any more problems with Boomer, don’t hesitate to call me.”

She pushed him toward the door, opened it and herded him out, then locked it behind him.

With him on the outside and her inside, he could do nothing but stand there and stare at her, struck utterly dumb by whatever the hell had just happened.

She’d been pissed. Even now, she stared at him as she shuttered the blinds closed, and he could see the hurt in her eyes.

Women were one f**king mystery after another. His ex-wife had driven him batshit crazy, and he’d sworn he’d never get involved with another one.

He’d tried to be nice to Emma, tried to help her out. Hell, he’d even asked her out after hearing her story about not dating for years, figuring she’d be happy to have a night out. He found her hellaciously attractive, but he knew limits, and when a woman was skittish, he could stay hands-off. But instead of being grateful, she’d acted as if he’d insulted her.

He should have left Emma alone. He’d broken his own cardinal rule, and look where it had gotten him.

Tossed out on the sidewalk.

He looked down at Boomer, who stared up at him and wagged his tail, oblivious to what had just happened.

“Let’s go, Boom. Time to get back to work.”

A MERCY DATE. Mr. Hot and Sexy had asked her out on a mercy date.

The sparks between her and Luke had been out of this world. Twice she’d been alone with him, and she might have been a little wary, but she hadn’t been afraid. He was nice. Luke had a good sense of humor, and he was oh-so-fine-looking. And he had a great dog that Daisy loved. If she was going to go out with someone—which she wasn’t—he’d be the right guy.

But then he had to treat her like she was some poor, pitiful misfit who couldn’t get a man to ask her out if she’d put a front-page ad in the hometown newspaper begging for one.

Take her on a date. As a friend. Just to help her out.

“What a colossal douchebag.”

She wanted to throw something. Unfortunately, everything in the clinic cost too much to hurl across the room.

She stormed into her office to grab her bag, Daisy bumping into her leg to shove her head under Emma’s hand.

There was the calm she needed. She absently petted Daisy, then sat in her chair and nuzzled Daisy’s neck.

Was she really that pathetic?

She’d felt the chemistry between her and Luke, had been excited to have those feelings again. She’d thought that maybe . . . just maybe, at some point she could take a shot at having a normal life again after all the hell she’d been through. But she was obviously throwing off some kind of odd signals that screamed she was helpless and pathetic.

Ugh.

She was not helpless, and she didn’t need a guy to rescue her from her self-imposed dating exile. Just because she didn’t have a man in her life didn’t mean she was miserable.

She was fine. Perfectly fine. She had her shiny new practice and her patients and her dog.

What more did she need to be happy, dammit?

She finished up at the clinic and took the dogs home, got them fed and settled, then wandered the kitchen, searching for something to eat.

Nothing sounded good. She felt unsettled, as if there was something she should be doing, but wasn’t.

Her thoughts wandered back to Luke, which got her irritated all over again. Now she had a full steam of mad and nothing to do with all that pent-up emotion.

Since sex was out of the question, she needed an outlet. She’d already gone to the gym before work this morning, though nothing said she couldn’t go again. Then again, that’s not what she wanted.

Routine was her problem. She finally decided she needed to get out of the house. Too much sameness wasn’t good for her, and she’d spent the past week doing the exact same thing every day—going to the clinic, coming home, and spending the night alone.

If she continued that, before long she’d have two dogs and a house full of cats, and she’d park her butt on the sofa watching one too many of those Real Housewives of some city or other.

She refused to let that happen, so she changed into jeans and a sweater, grabbed her keys, and drove to Bert’s, the town’s best diner. A bowl of chili for dinner sounded really good.

The good thing about showing up late was avoiding the normal four to six p.m. dinner crush. Bert’s was a popular place, and Hope was a very small town. Tuesday was meat-loaf night, and she’d had Bert’s meat loaf before. It was awesome. So was his chili.

The place had pretty much emptied out, so she grabbed a table. Anita, one of the waitresses who’d been there “forever” according to her, hustled over.

“How ya doing, honey?” Anita asked, grabbing the pencil from her multicolored hair.

“Great, thank you.”

“You’re in late tonight. I hear the new clinic is keeping you busy.”

The one thing about Hope—and Bert’s diner—was that there were no secrets, and everyone knew your business. Which for Emma’s business could be a very good thing. “It has been busy, which makes me very happy.”

“And hungry, I hope. What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a diet soda and a bowl of chili. Can I get macaroni with that?”

“You bet. I’ll bring your order right out.”

She’d brought a book with her, determined to settle in and enjoy taking herself out to eat.

Who needed a guy? She didn’t.

“Hey, Emma.”

She looked up and smiled as Jane Kline and Chelsea Gardner appeared at her table. She’d gone to high school with both of them, and had recently renewed her acquaintance with Jane because they worked out together at the local gym.

“Hi. Are you two here to eat?”

“Yes,” Jane said. “We had a very long school meeting.”

“Which means we’re starving,” Chelsea added. “Are you eating alone?”

“Yes. Would you like to join me?”

“Love to.” Chelsea pulled out a chair.

“Are you sure we’re not intruding? Maybe you want to be alone,” Jane said, looking unsure.

Emma laughed. “I spend plenty of my nights alone. I’d love some company.”

Jane took a seat, too, and Anita came over.

“A late rush tonight, I see.”

“Meetings,” Chelsea said. “Ugh.”

“Oh. No wonder you two look so miserable. Do they like to torture you poor teachers by making you spend all day long with those kids, then all night with a bunch of bureaucrats?”

“Yes,” Chelsea said while perusing the menu. “All just perks of the job, you know.”

Jane nodded. “But it’s over now and we can finally eat. What are you having, Emma?”

“Chili.”

“Oh, that sounds good. I’ll have that, too.”

Chelsea ordered the soup of the day, and Anita brought their food over within a few minutes. They all dug in.

“It’s a good thing Will took an extra shift today,” Jane said. “At least he’s not fending for himself, alone with the kids.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Chelsea said. “The guy can open a can of SpaghettiOs or make a grilled cheese sandwich, Jane. He doesn’t need you to be there to cook dinner for him.”

“Oh, I know. I just like to cook. I always cooked for the kids and me before Will came along, you know. It’s just nice to have a man in the house again.”

“Women in love. Spare me,” Chelsea said to Emma with a roll of her eyes.

Emma laughed. “Will is rather spectacular-looking. It’s a wonder you don’t have him locked in a closet somewhere, Jane.”

Jane grinned. “He is a hottie, isn’t he? I don’t know what he’s doing with me.”

“Uh, because you’re a rockin’ sexpot?” Chelsea said.

“Oh, sure. A rockin’ sexpot with two kids.”

“That just meant you know what you’re doing. And who says women with children can’t be sexy?” Emma said. “Look at you, Jane. I sometimes can’t believe you’ve had two children. You have an amazing body, you’re a wonderful teacher, and those blue eyes of yours are knockouts. You’re smart and gorgeous. Maybe Will should be the one locking you up in a closet so no other guy gets within five feet of you.”

“Hell, yeah,” Chelsea said, toasting that comment by raising her glass of iced tea.

Jane’s cheeks pinkened. “If I’d known it was going to be Build Jane’s Ego Up Night, I’d have dressed better. Thank you, ladies.”

“Just stating the truth.”

“Will tells me you treated Luke McCormack’s dog, Boomer.”

Emma’s spoon stilled on its way to her mouth. She looked up at Jane. “Will knows Luke?”

Jane smiled innocently at her. “They’re best friends. Is Boomer all right?”

Okay, dog talk she could handle. “He’s doing fine. Luke brought him in for a follow-up tonight, as a matter of fact. He’s healing up nicely and should be able to return to active canine duty within a few days.”

“That’s great news. The kids love Boomer. And I’m weakening in the get-a-dog department. Ryan and Tabby are really giving me the full-court press about one. And Will says he thinks it would teach the kids responsibility. Secretly, I think it’s Will who really wants the dog.”

“Dogs are great companions for kids, providing you get the right breed, one that’s good with children.”

“Maybe you could come over and talk to all of us about that. I don’t want to make the wrong decision.”

She nodded. “I’d love to.”

“I’ll cook for you, too,” Jane said with a wink.

“Sold.”

“See, I have nothing to offer. No dog advice, nothing. No wonder I don’t get invited over for a home-cooked meal,” Chelsea said.

Jane nudged her. “You have an open invitation to come over anytime and you know it, so quit with the false complaints.”

“Fine. I’m coming over when Emma does. Maybe she can talk me into a dog, too.”

“You?” Jane asked. “As fussy and as much of a perfectionist as you are? I can’t see you as a pet owner.”

Chelsea lifted her chin, her hair flawless and still perfect, despite the horrible lighting in the diner and after a long day at work. It was difficult for Emma to be around Chelsea because she was gorgeous, with her red hair and stunning blue-green eyes, and she was built like a centerfold. And to top it off, she had a funny, dry wit and an easygoing personality. She was quite possibly perfect. Emma had loved her from the moment Jane introduced them.

Someone like Chelsea probably went on a lot of dates. Maybe she would be the person to ask for advice about how to handle reintroducing herself back into the world of men. Not that she was looking to do that or anything, but eventually her self-imposed exile would have to end, and she hadn’t exactly dealt with Luke’s invitation all that well.

Then again, she wasn’t sure if that was her fault or his. “So, I sort of got asked on a date tonight. I think, though I’m not really sure.”

“Really? That’s exciting,” Jane said, grinning. “Who’s the guy?”

“Uh . . . Luke McCormack.”

“Real-l-l-ly,” Chelsea said. “Luke asked you out? That’s so interesting.”