“Are you out of creamer, Vicks?” Gordon was at the refrigerator, looking back at her. He’d made himself right at home in her kitchen over the past few days.

“Check behind the white wine vinegar in the door.” Vickie gave herself a mental shake. If she couldn’t see a relationship, she should probably stop putting herself in the man’s orbit so much. Then he bent lower to search her refrigerator, and his jeans pulled tight across an ass that...oh, my. She blinked and turned away, wishing she could fan herself.

A few hours later, she was having lunch with her best friend, Maura McKinnon, on the outdoor deck of the marina restaurant. She had a weak moment and confessed her inexplicable attraction to the man they’d both gone to high school with. Maura’s eyes went wide.

“Gordy Lexiter? Wasn’t he a linebacker on the football team? The heartthrob of every girl at Seneca Valley High? That Gordy Lexiter?”

“Yes.” Vickie took a sip of her Prosecco. “That Gordon. He’s aged very well, Maura. But good grief, I’ve known handsome men all my life and didn’t have vapors over them.”

Maura snorted. “You did if you thought they were rich.”

She straightened abruptly. “I am not a golddigger!”

Maura stole one of Vickie’s sweet potato fries from her plate. “Come on. Back in the day, you were more attracted to a man’s social status or bank account than you were the man’s looks. That’s what makes this so interesting.” Vickie flipped her middle finger in the air, which only made Maura laugh harder. “You know I love you. I’m not saying your feelings for the men in your life didn’t become...real. But you never once told me you thought any man you were setting your sights on was hot. Classy, maybe. Distinguished. Civilized. And let’s not forget rich. But hot? Nope, that’s a new one.”

Vickie sighed heavily. She wanted to object, but how do you object to the truth?

“Maybe I’ve just been off the market too long. I’m getting desperate.”

Maura shook her head. “You haven’t been off the market that long. You were just dating the college dean last year, weren’t you?”

“Howard Greer and I were more friends than lovers. In fact—” she drained her wineglass “—we were lovers exactly once, and it was memorable for all the wrong reasons.”

“Ooh... I don’t think I’ve heard this story.” Maura rested her chin on her hand. “Do tell.”

Her face heated. “I’ve never been a kiss-and-tell sort. Howard is a very nice man.”

“And I’m not a tell-people-what’s-told-me-in-confidence sort. Spill it.”

Vickie rolled her eyes. “You know how it is...old person sex can be...complicated.”