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“This is the moment when I say something clever and you laugh,” he says, his gaze dancing with amusement. “But I have completely lost my train of thought.” “Why?” “Because I expected to sit next to someone much older and much less attractive than you.”
“I’m Kelly,” I say, uninterested in giving this twentysomething hottie my real name—just in case. Red flags aren’t always apparent in the first two minutes. Besides, so far, he seems too good to be true. “Kelly Kapowski.” “Kelly Kapowski, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Oh no. So young he misses a Saved by the Bell reference? I'm suddenly feeling very old
“What about asking him for a transfer? Tell him you feel stagnant, and your creative juices could be used better in a new position. Anyone in management should appreciate your honesty. Besides, you perform best when doing something you want to do.” His eyes sweep the length of my body. “You’re right. When I do what I want, my performance is unbeatable.” Oh my God.
“I’m pretty sure I met my wife today.” Silence. “Gannon?” I ask, wondering if the call was dropped or if he finally got fed up with me and hung up. “I’m sorry. Did you say you met your wife?”
“I want to make her fall in love with me,” I say without thinking. “Well, you aren’t going to do that with clothes.” I smirk. “I know. I’ll do that after dinner when she rips your carefully chosen outfit off my body.” “Oh my God,” she groans. “But I want to set the stage first. I need to be … irresistible—more than usual.” I wince. “Especially because she doesn’t know she’s meeting me for dinner …” I cringe at the pregnant pause. “Excuse me?” Carys asks, her voice a couple of decibels higher than usual. I understand her shock. When I say it aloud like that, it also sounds like a bad plan to
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It’s more than her sinful body and sweet smile. It’s not just her laugh that I can still hear ringing in my ears. I wanted to pull her onto my lap when she touched me. It’s the crazy mix of confidence in her language and vulnerability in her eyes that has me unable to stop thinking about her.
Despite what I was raised to believe, the desire to be touched by another person is a primal human need. I want that connection. I want the passion, the intimacy that I read about in my novels—if even for a night.
I don’t know his last name, and he doesn’t know mine at all. I did tell him where I was going for dinner tonight, but who knows if he picked up on it? If he really wants to see me—if the universe thinks we should meet again, he’ll be there. Right?
“Stalking is illegal in Ohio,” I say, lifting a brow and trying not to smile. “It’s not stalking if you told me where you’re going to be.” “How do you know I’m not here with someone else?” He leans down, smirking. “Let’s be honest. Even if you were here with someone else, which you aren’t, he has a problem on his hands.” “Really? What might that be?” “Your entire body just reacted when I touched you.” He winks, stepping back. “That would be a big problem for him.”
“Tell me more about this cozy-girl thing,” he says. “That’s what you called it, right?” “Yeah. I’ve never had to explain it before.” I search for the right words. “It’s a vibe, I guess. Instead of living my life in survival mode and just getting through each day, I’m trying to craft a life that feels good. Soft. Feminine. Like my life is wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, if that makes sense.”
“Does Mimi have a thing for you?” “I’ll put it to you like this—I see her almost every Wednesday for our date night. That usually consists of dinner that I pick up somewhere and a cookie or cake she makes for me. Then we get into her golf cart, and I drive her, usually shirtless, around the neighborhood so she can make the old man at the end of the street jealous.”
“What are you after, Tate?” He holds my gaze unabashedly. “The mother of my children,” he says without apology.
I wish I knew her better—what she likes, what makes her tick. What are her points of vulnerability? What does she need from me? I’ve never really asked myself these questions about a woman, and certainly not one I’ve known for less than twelve hours.
“Who sits in a lobby with an open reservation just hoping someone walks by?” I hold her gaze. “Someone who knows what they want.” “And you want me?” “You have no fucking idea how much I want you.”
“Patience is a virtue.” “The fact that I haven’t shoved you to the couch and climbed you like a tree demonstrates my patience,” she says, her eyes fluttering closed. “But I’ll warn you, it’s running low.”
You said a few days ago that you need a brother who understands hockey. I’m your guy.” “You don’t know shit about hockey.” “Sure, I do.” I don’t. But things are about to get pucking fun around here.
“I’m the hero in my story. I have to save myself.” “You have to save yourself from what?” I shrug. “Myself. I’m a romantic at heart and have a habit of falling for the first man who crosses my path when I’m vulnerable. And traditionally speaking, the first man to cross my path isn’t the one for me.” “That makes total sense.” “Good.” “It seems as though a few motherfuckers cut in line.”
I’m not implying that you’ve somehow fallen for me in such a short period because that would be ridiculous.” “Maybe it would be,” he says, searching my eyes. “But wouldn’t it also be ridiculous to allow fear to hold you back from something that has the potential to be amazing?”
When you bring me food every Wednesday, it makes me feel so important to you.” “Because you are. I love you.”
We all love Mimi
“This is why couples fight about where to eat. That’s not the fight at all. It’s the woman wanting the man to show her that he cares for her by providing this essential need—even if it’s fast food. Just make the decision.”
Truth
What happens when the answer to your prayers, the embodiment of your dreams, actually materializes? How does that work? Worse, what if it doesn’t work? What if everything you thought you wanted turns out to be wrong, and then you’re left with nothing, not even a dream?
Instead of looking at a situation and seeing the positive—what happens if this is the best thing to ever happen to me?—my mind always goes to the dark side—what happens if I screw this up and ruin everything?
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my head spinning. He smirks. “Checking out my competition.” “You really do have stalker tendencies.”
if I stop being myself, if I stop trusting my gut—am I simply pretending to be someone I’m not? Because Aurora Johnson is a romantic. I follow my heart. It might not always work out for me, but does anything ever work out every time? If I want to live my whole truth, I need to lean into the pillars that make me who I am. That includes falling in love, no matter the circumstances.
Hockey isn’t my thing, but business is my jam. I also happen to love the idea of wiping everything Reid fucking Brewer created and starting something new—something I built, something I could make successful if for no other reason than spite.
“You’re not helping, Mimi.” “I’m old. If you don’t get to the point fast, I might croak.” I sit up, sick of myself. “Here, I’ll help,” she says. “You messed up with Girlfriend #2. Take it from there.” Despite my shitty mood, I can’t help but smile at Girlfriend #1.
“Oh, Tate.” She sighs as if this might kill her. “You’re proof God can’t give brains and beauty to the same person.”
