“Ethnic?” Mariella sputtered out a disbelieving snort. “I hope you kicked him in the family jewels.”

“I’ve known Artie since we were in diapers.”

“Then you know where to find them. Probably tiny little walnuts.”

“He meant well.”

“No, he didn’t. Tell me the rest of the date was better than that line would lead me to believe.”

“Discussing my hair color was pretty much the highlight.” Angi sighed. “Not that I thought it was going to be a love match, but he talked most of the time about his ex-girlfriend.”

“The blonde with the promotion?”

Angi nodded. “I guess she also upgraded for a better boyfriend.”

“Can’t say as I blame her.”

“Me neither.”

“You didn’t like this guy, right?”

“Not in the least. So why does it bother me that the feeling was mutual?”

“When was the last time you got busy with a guy?”

“That’s gross.” Angi focused on one of the dresses, running a finger along the scalloped neckline of a pretty yellow sheath. “Also private. Should I upgrade my wardrobe? Maybe start showing a bit more leg?”

“It’s been almost two years for me,” Mariella said without hesitation. “Since I found out my fiancé was shagging one of my best clients.”

“I’ve got another year on you,” Angi said with a sigh. “And it wasn’t even that good, so I’m not sure it counts.”

“It counts,” Mariella told her. “But not a lot.”

“I’ve kind of given up. How sad is that? My mother is more concerned about my dating life than I am. She’s already got two more potential men lined up for me, and it’s making me crazy. I don’t want to go out with guys my mom picks.”

She breathed out a tired laugh. “I barely have the energy to shave my legs, let alone worry about cute undies or whether I care about a man who knows how to kiss.”

“Everyone cares about a man who’s a good kisser.”

A woman in her midthirties with two young girls walked into the store. Angi busied herself looking at racks of handbags while Mariella spoke to them.

She wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that she was seriously too tired to care about dating or that Gabe Carlyle, the last man on earth she wanted to feel attracted to, was the one who’d given her the best kiss of her entire life, and he hadn’t even gotten around to using his tongue. Yes, he was handsome as sin and sexy in that quiet, brooding way he had. But she didn’t like him. She shouldn’t like him.

There was no time in her life for a man, despite what her mom believed.

“You might not want to date, but damn, girl, by the look on your face that must be some fantasy life.”

Angi lifted a hand to her suddenly flaming cheek and tried to ignore Mariella’s smirk. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” Mariella countered. “Something we could both apparently use more of in our lives.”