For Lucy Excerpt!

I can't wait for you to get a taste of For Lucy! Check out this excerpt!

“Cody?” A woman’s voice chimed from behind as I waited for my nachos with a half-empty glass of root beer sweating in my right hand.
A wavy-haired brunette with shimmering lips and rosy cheeks lifted her eyebrows in question as her smile swelled with caution. She didn’t look familiar, but she did give off the vibe of someone I wished I knew. A stunning woman with delicate features and that hair. So much long wavy hair for such a petite figure.
The irony … the song playing in the bar at that exact moment happened to be Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl.” I had no idea who Cody was, but I wished I had his girl.
Those eyes.
That body.
“Red hair. Gray shirt.” She nodded at my hair and shirt. “Alice said you’d be easy to spot.” She slid off her navy wool coat and set her small black purse on the bar, climbing onto the stool next to mine.
I stole another few seconds to admire her baby blue V-neck sweater that looked soft like cashmere and those jeans perfectly molded to her tiny waist and toned legs. There was no doubt I wanted Cody’s girl even if I remained clueless to Cody’s identity and Alice’s too.
However, if she thought I was Cody, that meant she hadn’t met Cody. One thing flashed through my mind. Cody, you poor bastard. I’m going to steal your girl. Rick Springfield would have been proud.
“Cat got your tongue?” Her smile was a little crooked, an irresistible imperfection.
Shaking my head a few times, I turned on the charm and initiated Project Steal Cody’s Girl. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be so beautiful.” Reaching my hand toward her, I offered it to her in a rather sly move. “Let’s start over. I’m Cody.”
Giving my hand a slight inspection, she giggled and fit her hand in mine. “Well, thank you. I’m Tatum.”
And just like that, I had her name. I could have been a successful stalker or serial killer.
“Tatum.” I grinned, giving her hand a firm shake before releasing it. “It’s a true pleasure to meet you.”
The door to the bar opened. A guy with red hair entered, eyes squinted as he surveyed the area. Cody was about to learn some basic life lessons.
You snooze, you lose.
Finders keepers.
The early bird gets the worm.
And the most basic one of all: punctuality matters.
“How do you feel about something a little nicer than bar food?” I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and tossed it on the counter.
“Oh … well … Alice said it would just be drinks. One drink actually. I’m a light weight, and I’m driving.” Her nose wrinkled, and I knew there was no way I would let her get away, even if the thought sounded a little creepy in my head.
I grabbed my root beer and took a quick swig. “I’m driving too. So…” I jerked my head toward the door “…there’s a cafe across the street. They put whipped cream on their hot chocolate. That’s a drink. Right?” My gaze flitted over her shoulder to Cody taking a seat two stools down from her. His eyes continually scanning the bar.
Tatum rubbed her lips together, mulling over my offer. “Just across the street?”
I stood, keeping a close eye on Curious Cody. “Yeah. Across the well-lit street.”
Sliding off the stool, she donned her coat and grabbed her purse. “Hot chocolate sounds perfect.”
She was perfect.
Perfectly not mine.
“Your nachos?” the bartender said as he plucked the twenty from the counter.
I fished another five dollars out of my wallet and handed it to him. “Give my nachos and a beer to the guy at the end of the bar,” I murmured with my back to Tatum.
“Okay.” The bartender nodded.
“Ready?” I grabbed my jacket and followed her to the door, opening it before she had the chance to do it.
“So what do you do, Cody?” She strode beside me after looking both ways at the intersection.
“Alice didn’t tell you?” It was less than convenient that I didn’t know Alice.
“No. She just said that you play softball with Derek and you’re a really nice guy. My standards are a little low because clearly I said yes to a blind date based on that alone.” Tatum laughed and it became my favorite sound.
Things were looking up for me. I could play any sport, so softball with Derek worked for me. Whoever Derek was. Alice’s husband or boyfriend, I assumed.
“That’s interesting…” I opened the door to the cafe and Tatum stepped inside “…because I heard you were a little skittish because you’ve been a recluse with seven cats in your dinky apartment for the past three years.”
She whipped around just before taking a seat in the booth at the far end of the diner. “Oh my gosh! Did she seriously say that? I’m allergic to cats. And I’m never home, so basically the opposite of a recluse. I’m going to kill her.”
I grinned. Things were going quite well for what was truly a blind date for me. More like blindsided date. The date I didn’t know I needed that night. What were the chances of my joke being so spot-on?
We sat in the booth and ordered two hot chocolates followed by a few awkward seconds of silence.
“I’m in construction of sorts. I work for Coleman. We do tree removal, environmental clean-ups, stuff like that. My brother and his wife own the company.”
“I’m familiar with Coleman. I actually sold their house after Kenneth died. It was my first big sale.”
“You’re a realtor?”
“Yes. And I’m a competitive ballroom dancer. Do you need a house? Or do you need to learn how to waltz?”
By that time, I was ready to buy literally anything she wanted to sell me. But there was no way she would teach me to dance. “I’m going to ignore your love of dancing because I can’t sway and snap my fingers at the same time. As for the house, I’m sure someday I’ll need one. Do you own your own house? Have you scooped up a good deal? A banker friend give you first chance at a foreclosure?”
“No.” She laughed just as the waitress delivered our hot chocolates. Fishing a spoon out of the silverware wrapped in a white paper napkin, she dipped it in the whipped cream and licked it.
I kinda died when she did that. It was a guy thing.
“I have an apartment with two roommates who recently decided to be more than roommates. It’s now a little weird. I’m such a third wheel. How about you? Do you have roommates?”
Taking an extended sip of my hot chocolate, I licked my whipped cream mustache and nodded slowly. “I have three actually.”
“Wow. In an apartment? Or are you renting a house?”
There was a reason guys like me were single, and Tatum teetered on the edge of finding out.
“Two of my roommates own the house.”
“Married friends?” She continued to unknowingly prod.
Cody probably owned his own place. I had a knack for playing out of my league.
“Yes. They’re married.”
“What about your other roommate? Girl or guy?”
“Guy.” I kept my answers surgically precise.
“How old is he?” She scooped more whipped cream from the top of her hot chocolate.
I found everything she did quite mesmerizing. “Uh … he’s younger than me.”
“In college?”
If I didn’t jump in and change the subject, things were going to get bad quickly. “No. Are you originally from Redington?”
“Kansas City. And that’s where our real estate office is located, but rent is cheaper in Redington. And so I’ve been given most of the listings for here.”
“That’s nice. Especially since you live in Redington. But the real question is … are you a sports fan?”
Tatum lit up, eyes wide. “Total sports fan. My roommates get Royals season tickets, and I get dibs whenever they don’t go. And my boss has season tickets to the Chiefs, and he likes me a lot, so I get first offer at his tickets when he can’t go, which lately has been quite often. And … his seats are right on the fifty-yard line.”
I robbed the bank. Lifted the biggest diamond from the museum. With Cody eating my nachos across the street, I couldn’t call it fate or any sort of serendipity, but it was something for sure.
“So … tickets as in plural? As in you need someone to go to these Chiefs games with you?”
Cupping her hot chocolate mug, she brought it close to her lips and grinned. “I showed my hand too soon. Now I’ll never know if you like me for me or for my access to fifty-yard-line tickets.”
“I liked you from the second I laid eyes on you. But I’m going to marry you because you have access to Chiefs tickets,” I replied with a subtle grin.
Giggles erupted for several seconds before she sipped her drink, swirly brown eyes alight with amusement. “You’re going to have to give me more than a proposal. I’m here because you’re supposedly a nice guy. I only take charming, smart guys with me to games.”
My fingers drummed on the table as I studied her. “You already know I think you’re beautiful. I could have tried to get you drunk tonight, but we’re here instead, getting a sugar high from chocolate and whipped cream. That tells you I’m charming. As for my intelligence … what do you want to know? Do you want to know that light travels eighteen million times faster than rain? The Mona Lisa was stolen from the Louvre in 1911—and one of the suspects was Picasso? There’s a village in Tarsdor, Austria called Fucking, and its residents are called Fuckingers? Originally, heroin was marketed as cough medicine? Or … do you want to know that apodysophilia is a term (although rarely used) for a desire to remove one’s clothes in public? I don’t have it, but I think I’ve come across a few people who do.”
By the time I finished my impressive and rather random spiel, Tatum’s jaw hung wide open.
“Is it because I said the F-word?”
She laughed, inching her head side to side. “You don’t look like a nerd.” Her jaw clamped shut, replaced with a smirk.
True. I didn’t look like a nerd. Football player? Hockey player? Sure. Six feet four inches and a passion for weightlifting wasn’t a nerd look.
“Looks can be deceiving.” I shrugged.
“Indeed. Cody. Indeed.”
Cody.
“Are we good? Am I officially charming and smart? Am I invited to a game with you?”
She shrugged. “I’ll have to talk to Alice and Derek. They said you weren’t really interested in getting into a relationship at the moment, which I’m cool with, but I also don’t want to feel used for my assets.”
My head eased back. “Let me get this straight. You’re fine with the no relationship part, but you’re still here … which leads me to believe you’re looking for something casual … which I believe implies sharing certain assets. And that you’re okay with, but sharing season tickets is somehow more personal?”
Her cheeks pinked a smidge, which meant she wasn’t someone who had a ton of casual sex. Tatum was confident, but not that confident. “Casual sharing of assets is a mutual give and take.” She frowned. “At least it should be. But what do I get out of sharing tickets with you?”
“More of my charm and unmatched intelligence of course.”
Her neutral expression held strong for a few seconds. Then she grinned. “I paint my face … for games. Are you that kind of diehard fan?”
“I don’t wear a shirt to games because I paint my chest.”
A lie.
That lie led to another hour of conversation, two more hot chocolates, a shared order of Belgian waffles, and so much laughter my stomach hurt almost as much as the seventeen muscles in my face it took to smile. I stole someone’s blind date.
Best. Bad. Decision. Ever.

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