Sweet Indulgences 1 by Susan Fox Page B

polite. Her store’s clientele was almost exclusively female. Of course, maybe what he really meant was that he’d tell his wife or girlfriend. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that was no guarantee he was single.
    “It’s good of you to help your sister out,” he said.
    “No problem. I often do.” When he didn’t take another appetizer, she urged, “The mini-quiches are yummy. They’re shrimp and asparagus.”
    Obediently he took one, bit into it, and nodded in appreciation. But when he spoke again, it wasn’t about the food. “I’m sure there were lots of other things you could have been doing tonight.”
    She smiled ruefully. “I did have something special planned.”
    He nodded and this time reached for another appetizer—a mushroom cap stuffed with crab, cream cheese, and herbs—without her urging. “So, was it a fancy party or a romantic evening for two?” he asked, but she sensed he’d lost interest in her.
    Still, it was only courtesy to answer his question before she took her leave. “Neither one. At the moment I don’t have a, um, romantic interest in my life, and I’m definitely not a party girl.”
    His gaze was back on her face, his grey eyes bright, the mushroom cap untasted in his hand. “I’m no fan of parties either. But I let my brother talk me into coming tonight because I’ve just moved to town and don’t know many people. I’m the new principal at the high school, by the way.”
    I’ve just moved. There it was again, the inference that he was single.
    “You’re not going to meet people leaning against a wall by yourself,” she pointed out.
    He glanced at the noisy, animated crowd, then back at her. “Ah, but I’ve met you. I prefer quality over quantity.”
    Just as she did. Did he mean what he’d implied, or was he just being polite? “Are you going to eat that mushroom cap?” she blurted.
    He stared at the appetizer in his hand. “Forgot I had it.” Then he popped it into his mouth.
    Had he forgotten because he was caught up in his conversation with her? It had been so long since she’d dated, she’d lost her ability to judge the signals between men and women. And what was she doing, letting one guest make her forget all about her duties?
    Sarah’s cheeks heated and she said, half nervously, half regretfully, “I’m afraid I have to get back to work.”
    “I know. I shouldn’t have kept you so long, but I’m not going to apologize.”
    Was she crazy to think there was a special connection between her and this man she’d just met? She turned to go and he said, “Before you disappear, what’s your name?”
    “Sarah Masters.”
    “I’m Will Bryan.” He held out his hand.
    She shifted the tray to her left hand then put her right hand in his, enjoying the warm pressure of his touch.
    “And I don’t have a romantic interest in my life either,” he said, “just in case you happened to be wondering.”
    “I, um…” Should she confess? And was it possible for her cheeks to get any warmer?
    He kept hold of her hand, and she had no desire to free herself.
    “I know we’ve just met, Sarah. But it’s New Year’s Eve, a perfect time for beginnings. Is there any chance, when this party finally winds down, that you’d feel like going for a walk on the beach? We could watch dawn break on a new year.”
    “Oh!” It was exactly the kind of thing that appealed to her. She couldn’t think of anything more romantic. And now she knew she’d been reading the signals just fine. “It sounds like a perfect way to welcome the new year.”
    He squeezed her hand. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

Movie Thrills
    Samantha loved movies, especially on the big screen at a movie theatre. But she hated it when men figured that her being alone gave them license to flirt. So she’d worked out her strategy.
    She went on Monday nights, because they were quiet. She arrived early and claimed an aisle seat in the middle of the theatre. She draped her coat on the