Safe Haven - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,43

I’m heading out of town.”

“Yes,” Katie said. “That’s really too bad you’re not going to be here.”

Jo laughed. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, by the way. But just so you know, I’m not going to let you off the hook. As soon as I get back, I’m going to need the full play-by-play.”

“It’s just dinner,” Katie said again.

“Which means that you won’t have any trouble telling me all about it.”

“I think you need another hobby.”

“Probably,” Jo agreed. “But right now, I’m having plenty of fun living vicariously through you since my love life is pretty much nonexistent. A girl needs to be able to dream, you know?”

Katie’s first stop was the hair salon. There, a young woman named Brittany trimmed and styled her hair, chatting nonstop the entire time. Across the street was the only women’s boutique in Southport, and Katie stopped there next. Though she’d ridden past the store, she’d never been inside before. It had been one of the stores she’d never imagined herself either wanting or needing to go into, but as she began to browse, she was pleasantly surprised not only by the selections, but by some of the prices. Well, on the sale items, anyway, which was where Katie focused her attention.

It was an odd experience to shop alone in a clothing store like this. She hadn’t done such a thing in a long time, and as she changed in the dressing room, she felt more carefree than she had in years.

She bought a couple of sale items, including a tan formfitting blouse with beading and stitching that scooped a bit in the front, not dramatically but enough to accent her figure. She also found a gorgeous patterned summer skirt that complemented the blouse perfectly. The skirt was a little too long, but she knew she could fix that. After paying for her purchases, she wandered two doors down, to what she knew was the only shoe store in town, where she picked up a pair of sandals. Again, they were on sale and although ordinarily she would have felt almost frantic about shopping, the tips had been good over the last few days and she’d decided to splurge. Within reason, of course.

From there, she went first to the drugstore to buy a few things and then finally rode across town to the grocery store. She took her time, content to browse the aisles, feeling the old, troubling memories trying and failing to reassert themselves.

When she was finished, she rode her bicycle home and started the preparations for dinner. She was making shrimp stuffed with crabmeat, cooked in a scampi sauce. She had to recall the recipe from memory, but she’d made it a dozen times over the years and was confident she hadn’t forgotten anything. As side dishes, she’d decided on stuffed peppers and corn bread, and as an appetizer, she wanted to make a bacon-wrapped Brie, topped with a raspberry sauce.

It had been a long time since she’d prepared such an elaborate meal, but she’d always loved to cut recipes from magazines, even from a young age. Cooking was the one enthusiasm she’d been able to share occasionally with her mom.

She spent the rest of the afternoon hurrying. She mixed the bread and put it in the oven, then readied the ingredients for the stuffed peppers. Those went into the refrigerator along with the bacon-wrapped Brie. When the corn bread was done, she placed it on the counter to cool and started the raspberry sauce. Not much to it—sugar, raspberries, and water—but by the time it was ready, the kitchen smelled heavenly. That went into the fridge as well. Everything else could wait until later.

In her bedroom, she shortened the skirt to just above the knee, then made a last tour of the house to make sure everything was in place. Finally, she began to undress.

As she slipped into the shower, she thought about Alex. She visualized his easy smile and the graceful way he moved, and the memory started a slow burn in her belly. Despite herself, she wondered whether he was taking a shower at the same time she was. There was something erotic in the idea, the promise of something exciting and new. It was just dinner, she reminded herself again, but even then, she knew she wasn’t being completely honest with herself.

There was another force at work here, something she’d been trying to deny. She was attracted to him more than she wanted to admit, and as she stepped out

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