Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” I said, glancing down at my skirt. Appreciate the warning ahead of time, asshole. Ugh. Now I was just being bitchy—most girls would be thrilled to have a guy show up on a motorcycle. For all I knew, Sherri had told him I loved bikers. “Um, I’ll be right back. This is Loni, she’s kind of like . . . my mom, I guess. And my daughter, Izzy.”
Aaron knelt down, looking Izzy right in the eye. “Your mom’s friend Sherri told me all about you. She said you like pink things. I brought you something.”
With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little stuffed unicorn with a fluffy pink mane and tail.
“It’s beautiful!” Izzy sighed, reaching for it. Aaron winked at me, and I felt my snit evaporate, along with my doubts.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. “Izzy, what do we say?”
“Thank you!”
Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
• • •
Aaron had been right—it really was a perfect evening for a ride, and the trip over Fourth of July Pass into the Silver Valley was stunning. Despite my misgivings, the date was going well. Better than any I’d had in a long time. I still wasn’t feeling the same kind of instant chemistry with him that I felt with Painter, but whatever. No man’s perfect.
We’d arrived at the restaurant—which was really more of a pub than anything else—at seven thirty and had a decent dinner. The Bitter Moose wasn’t anything fancy, but the place had plenty of atmosphere. Sort of like one of those historical theme restaurants, but this was definitely the real deal. According to the article printed on the little paper menus in the center of each table, it dated back to the gold rush days, when it was a brothel. Later it was a hotel and now the owner lived upstairs.
By the time we finished eating it was nearly nine. The lights had dimmed and the music had gotten louder. Several couples got up and started to dance. To my surprise, Aaron convinced me to join them. It wasn’t all hot and intense and sweaty like a real club, but it was fun and when I checked the time a whole hour had passed.
“You want to take a break?” Aaron asked. I nodded. “Water or something heavier?”
“Water’s great.”
Our waitress had already cleared away our plates, but she’d left the water at the table and I took a deep drink, appreciating how low-key the date was. Felt good to relax. Aaron seemed less chilled, but he smiled enough that I decided not to worry about it.
“So you must’ve had Izzy when you were fifteen or something,” he said, leaning forward so I could hear him over the music. “Because you look way too young to be a mother.”
“I was twenty-one,” I said, feeling myself flush. “I’ll admit, it wasn’t planned, but I guess it’s worked out pretty well. I can’t imagine life without her. Do you have kids?”
He shook his head.
“Hell no. I was married right out of high school, though,” he said. “We were way too young—finally split up last year, although I’m still friends with her. Does that seem weird to you?”
“I can’t imagine being friends with my ex,” I admitted. “We fight all the time—doubt we could agree on the color of the sky. But I have to admit, he’s a fantastic dad to Izzy, and he helps me out a lot, too.”
“You still have a thing for him?” Aaron asked.
Yes.
“No,” I said firmly. “Absolutely not. I just try to stay out of his way. He’s . . . intense. But like I said, he’s a good dad to Izzy. He’s an artist.”
Aaron got a funny look on his face. “That’s weird.”
“No it’s not,” I said, strangely offended. “He’s amazing, a natural talent—he sells his paintings all over the country, and people hire him to do commissions, too.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender.
“I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”
Shit. What was wrong with me?
“Sorry, I guess it just struck me the wrong way.”
“No worries,” he said, although the look in his eyes was speculative. “You sure you’re not hung up on him?”
“It’s complicated,” I admitted awkwardly.
“Well . . . okay then. I guess I’ll get the bill,” he said. “We should probably get going anyway. I’m meeting someone at the party around ten thirty—he’s got something I need to pick up.”
“I want to use the restroom before we go,” I said, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut about Painter. The man wasn’t even here, yet somehow I couldn’t look at Aaron without comparing the two.
“Sounds good. Why don’t you do that while I pay,” Aaron said, reaching over to catch my hand. “Hey, are we okay?”
“Of course,” I said, giving him a smile that wasn’t quite real. “I’ll meet you out in the parking lot—how does that sound?”