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of the tub. Obviously, shed failed to find the calm and comfort she usually found in her bath, and she quickly exfoliated her arms and legs. When she was through, she got out of the tub and dried off, then she rubbed chocolate-scented lotion into her skin.
    She tossed her clothes in the hamper and walked into her bedroom. Her three closest friends lived in Boise, and she missed meeting them for lunch or dinner or impromptu bitch sessions. Her friends Lucy, Clare, and Adele were the closest thing she had to a family, and the only people to whom she would consider giving a kidney or loaning money. She was fairly certain they would return the favor.
    Last year when her friend Clare had discovered her fiancé with another man, the other three friends had rushed to her house to talk her off the ledge. Out of the four women, Clare was the most kindhearted and easily hurt. She was also a romance writer whod always believed in true love. For a time after her fiancés betrayal, shed lost her faith in the happy-ever-after until a reporter by the name of Sebastian Vaughan came into her life and restored her faith. He was her very own romance hero, and the two were getting married in September. Maddie had to drive to Boise in a few days to be fitted for her bridesmaid dress.
    Once again she was allowing one of her friends to deck her out in a ridiculous dress and make her stand up at the front of a church. The year before shed been a bridesmaid at Lucys wedding. Lucy was a mystery writer and had met her husband Quinn when hed mistaken her for a serial killer. Long story short, he hadnt let a little thing like homicide stand in the way of his pursuit of Lucy.
    Out of the four friends, that left herself and Adele still single. Maddie pulled on a pair of black cotton panties and tossed the towel on the bed. Adele wrote fantasy novels for a living, and although she had her own man troubles, Maddie figured it was a lot more likely that Adele would marry before she would herself.
    Maddie fit the large cups of her bra over her breasts and fastened it in back. In fact, she just didnt see herself getting married. She wanted a kid about as much as she wanted a cat. The only time a man came in handy was when she needed someone to do some heavy lifting or when she desired a warm naked body next to hers. But she owned a sturdy hand truck and big Carlos, and when she had need of heavy lifting or sexual release she reached for one of them. Admittedly, neither was as good as the real thing, but the hand truck went back in the garage when she was through, and big Carlos got shoved back into her bedside table. Both of them stayed put and didnt give her crap, play games with her heart, or cheat on her. Pretty much a win-win.
    She stepped into a pair of jeans and then shoved her arms through the sleeves of her most comfortable hooded sweatshirt. She just didnt have the same burning desires, or instincts, or clocks that drove other women into matrimony and childbirth. Which wasnt to say that she didnt get lonely sometimes. She absolutely did.
    Shoving her feet into a pair of flip-flops, she moved from the bedroom, though the living room, to the kitchen. The noise from the neighbors party grew louder and she reached into the refrigerator. Voices floated in through her open windows as she pulled out a bottle of carb-reduced merlot. She was alone and lonely and apparently feeling quite sorry for herself too. Which really wasnt like her. She never felt sorry for herself. There were too many people in the world with real problems.
    The shrill screech of at least a half dozen Piccolo Petes sliced through the air, and Maddie almost dropped the corkscrew. Damn it, she cursed and placed her free hand over her heart. Beyond the French doors leading out to her deck, she could see the pale shadows of dusk and the darkening surface of the usually emerald-green lake. She poured red wine into a glass and carried it outside to the deck and set it on the railing. A dozen or