“Don’t look at me like that,” he told his dog. “I know you really like her. So do I! But here’s the thing, Domino. We guys can’t let our dicks overrule our brains.”

* * *

Erin’s little house smelled of the potato salad and deviled eggs she’d made last night for the wedding reception. One whiff reminded her that she’d left what remained of the food in the trunk of her car. By the time she could return to get it, the Honda might stink to high heaven. She cut through the living area to the kitchen, which boasted a cute bay window that overlooked the creek. That alcove and the recently renovated master suite were her favorite features of the house. After plopping her handbag on the oak tabletop, she struggled against an urge to cry. Instead of giving in to it, she went to the adjoining guest bathroom to stare at herself in the vanity mirror. She took in her dark hair, her blue eyes, her facial features, and what she could see of her upper body.

“What’s so wrong with me?” she asked her image. “Am I that unattractive? And even if that’s true, am I such an awful person that he can’t even be friendly?”

Erin knew it was silly to be so hurt, but she was. She felt like a teenage girl who’d crushed on a boy and been rejected. Well, she didn’t really know how that felt, she supposed. Growing up under her father’s thumb, she’d never had time to notice boys in that way. She’d been too busy trying to compete with them in sports in order to please her dad.

Erin pushed all of that from her mind, squeezed her eyes closed, and burst into tears. When she’d cried herself out, she fished her phone out of her purse and speed-dialed her best friend, Julie.

“Hello. I’m barely in the door from the wedding, girlfriend, and wearing only one shoe. After walking around on that grass in high heels, my feet are killing me and I can’t get the torture devices off fast enough.”

Erin bypassed a greeting and asked, “What’s so objectionable about me that he isn’t even interested in being my friend?”

“Have you been crying? Oh, God, you have. You sound all stuffed up. That isn’t like you.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’m so tough and masculine, I never cry like a normal woman.”

Julie sighed. “Erin, you need to listen to me. Are you listening? There’s nothing objectionable about you. And you aren’t tough and masculine. You looked absolutely beautiful today.”

“He ignored me all afternoon. Then my car broke down on the way home. Right in the middle of the road, of course. He barely managed to stop without hitting me. And he did not look happy when he realized it was my car.” Erin felt that pressure in her chest again, and this time the tears were so close to the surface that they erupted in a fresh flood. “If he isn’t attracted to me, fine. But why can’t he at least be friendly? What is it about me that turns men off?”