When she’d left Laura and gotten back inside her house, Becki had been pouring a cup of coffee. She’d told Cassidy that she looked adorable. She’d tugged Cassidy back up the stairs and into bed. Cassidy had pretended to enjoy the sex, much like she’d done last night.

She was beginning to wonder if something was wrong with her. She had lots of practice making love with women she wasn’t in love with. Why, suddenly, had it become such an issue with her? Had turning forty-four really been that traumatic? Or was she simply tired of it? Tired of playing the game. Tired of feeling lonely—alone—even with a woman in her bed.

She heard a car start up next door. Their garage was at the back of the house with their driveway on the other side. She looked up at the house, wondering where Laura’s bedroom was. The first set of windows was closer to the street with the maple tree blocking most of the view. The second set, though, would have a clear view of the pool. Judging by Laura’s blush earlier, she guessed her bedroom was the second one.

She smiled as she remembered Laura’s expression when Cassidy had mentioned skinny-dipping. It wasn’t the first time she’d sensed someone watching her. Laura had obviously been embarrassed but not so embarrassed that she hadn’t voiced her opinion on Cassidy’s dates.

“You have the worst taste in women.”

Was that true? Did she? Granted, she tended to ignore personality in favor of looks. That was a habit that had started in college. She wasn’t blind to her own looks. She had known she could go out with anyone she wanted to. She took that for granted. Now that she was older, she realized how conceited she must have been back then.

But had anything changed? Sure, she was forty-four, but she took care of herself…and her body. She had financial security, she had a successful business. She never lacked for female company—gay or straight. Had anything changed?

She moved her hands lazily in the water, putting the float in motion. No, the only change was that she had gotten older. She was still alone…still searching for that one special person. That person who could steal her breath with just a look. That person who could make her smile, make her laugh. That person who could read her, who knew what she was thinking, feeling, without the need for words between them. That person who she couldn’t wait to see, to be with—every day. That person who could be both best friend and lover. That person. She feared, however, that that person didn’t exist. At least not for her.

“You have the worst taste in women.”