Read Bachelor Number Four for Free Online Page A

think I’ll try the grilled chicken salad.”
    With that decided, she put aside the menu and sipped from her iced tea. The lunch crowd at the restaurant was bustling and a bit noisy, but since Greg wasn’t saying anything, she didn’t have to strain to hear him. Arden tapped another sugar packet into her glass and squeezed a few more drops of lemon, though the tea had been fine before. Anything to keep her hands busy.
    If I look up and he’s still staring…
    “Heather says you’re a seamstress.”
    Relief that he’d finally chosen to have a conversation made Arden answer too brightly. “Yes. Yep. Sure am. You betcha!”
    Great, now she sounded like Mistress Mary Twinkle-Sparkle. She smiled at Greg, her teeth gritted. His return smile seemed forced.
    “My ex liked to knit.”
    Arden sighed inside, but kept up her smile. “Really? I never learned how.”
    “She used to make me scarves.”
    “Ah.”
    Greg drank from his glass. Water dribbled over his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. His gaze still pierced her. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”
    “What?” Arden tucked her hair behind her ears. “Oh, well. Thanks.”
    “Heather told me you were pretty, but I didn’t believe her. I mean, I didn’t think you’d really be pretty. But you are.”
    “Um…lucky…you?” Arden’s laugh sounded hollow.
    Greg didn’t smile. “She didn’t tell you I was cute, did she?”
    He sounded so sure she’d say no that Arden felt compelled to answer, “Of course she did.”
    Greg sighed. “She told you what happened to me, didn’t she? How Jennifer ran off with her ex the day we were supposed to get married?”
    Ouch. “Yes. She told me. I’m sorry, Greg.”
    Another sigh lifted his shoulders. “It’s okay. I guess I should be past it by now.”
    He might have been going for pity, but Arden didn’t have much for him. Being dumped at the altar somehow, in her book, didn’t quite compare with losing your spouse to cancer. Still, she had agreed to go on this date and making the best of things was better than focusing on the negative, or so she’d always tried to tell her kids. Funny how much harder that could be than expected.
    “So, Greg. What do you do in Doug’s office?”
    He launched into a complicated but blessedly brief description involving integers and statistics and the conversation soon trailed off, but the food arrived, so the next few minutes were taken up by eating.
    “My salad is delicious. How’s your steak?”
    Greg nodded around a mouthful of red meat. “It’s okay. I haven’t had much of an appetite…since…you know.”
    Arden watched him polish off an entire steak and a side of broccoli smothered in butter without even pausing to breathe. If that was not having an appetite, she didn’t want to see him when he was hungry. She was being uncharitable, but Greg’s sad-sack routine had worn thin within five minutes.
    She’d never been so glad to see a check arrive in her life.
    “I’ll be right back to get that,” said the waiter.
    Arden waited, but Greg didn’t reach for the paper. He just sat, staring at her. Arden looked down at the check, a scant inch from Greg’s fingers. He didn’t move.
    “I’ll get this,” she said and snatched up the paper, anxious to get out of there.
    “No, you don’t have to.” But he didn’t reach to take it from her, just sat back and bored holes in her boobs with his eyes.
    “Nope. Got it.” Arden stood, calculating a tip she knew was too generous, but not wanting to take the time to figure out the right amount. She dug out a twenty and some change from her purse and handed it to the startled waiter. “Keep the change. Greg, it’s been nice—”
    “I’ll walk you to your car.”
    Deep breath, Arden. “Okay.”
    Once there, he followed her around to the driver’s side and stood so close she couldn’t open the door without smacking him in the knees. “Thanks for lunch. I didn’t expect you to treat