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“Son, one day you’ll have someone in your life, and you’ll realize you’d do anything to keep her happy, even if it means letting her sit your son down and bustin’ his balls with feminist chats and conversations on how to treat a woman. There are worse things, bud. Just accept it. If not for whatever future lady you have in your life, then for your old man who doesn’t want to hear his wife bitchin’ all night about the piece of scum son they’re raising.”
“My mom calls me a single Pringle.” Why did I just say that? His laugh booms, and heads turn our way as my cheeks burn with heat. “Single Pringle! Q would love that.” He leans forward before leaning back again, this time with his beer.
“Okay, sweetheart. That makes sense. You text your girl. You tell her you’re going to Tommy’s Tavern on the boardwalk, the entrance off 34th, for trivia night. Tell her we’re meetin’ my friends there, one is my best friend, Chris Jacobs.”
When he doesn't ridicule you for being careful 🤌🏼
My hand on her arm squeezes marginally before rubbing my thumb up and down in what I hope is a calming manner. She relaxes a fraction, and something about that pleases me, the ability to calm this force of a woman.
Gone is the uptight matchmaker from earlier, and in her place is a gorgeous woman who is ecstatic her team won. At that moment, I make my decision. I’m going to keep her. I’m going to keep this woman.
“You have a nice smile.” Well, at least this time, I didn’t think it first, the words bypassing any kind of brainwaves before slipping out.
“Ahh, got it. Watch your step.” He gently guides me around a crack in the sidewalk,
I’m not too tipsy to know that getting into a car with a relative stranger is a terrible idea, especially if no one knows you’re doing it. Even if you feel strangely comfortable and safe with said stranger. “Makes sense. You send her a text now, tell her I’m taking you home. That I’m walking you to your door and leaving, and you’ll text her when you lock the door behind you, safe and alone in your apartment.” I stare at him, confused. It seems… strangely rational.
“Good night, Cassie. I’ll see you Saturday. Text your assistant.” I press my lips to her forehead,
The tire. The tire has been replaced. The spare no longer sits on the rear passenger side, obviously different than the others and needing replacing. But instead, there’s a tire to match the other three. Luke fixed my tire.
It’s the girl. Knowing she exists, knowing I found her, gives me the energy I need to get through this long day.
Favorite gas station snack? Diet Coke and a soft pretzel. Bottle or can? Fountain. Always a fountain drink. And there he stands, leaning against the front of his truck, arms crossing his jacket-covered chest, light jeans leading to the same pair of boots he wore last time. With a fountain drink and a soft pretzel.
“No, you can come in. The hall is freezing. Just hang out in the living room.” “Do you want to text your assistant?” he asks as I open the door, an arm out to usher him in. “What?” “Your assistant. Do you want to text her? Tell her I’m coming in for a moment?” “Why would I do that?” I stare at him in confusion. Why would I tell Gabi he’s here? “For your safety, sweetheart. A strange man, a date in your apartment? Even for just a moment, that’s a risk.” I stare at him, floored by the thought he would think about that when I didn’t.
“Ah, so you need to gossip with her about our weekend together.”
“You might know red flags, but I know green ones. And this man is a fuckin’ leprechaun.”
Tell me when you’re free and I’ll be there.
She can be strong and independent and handle things on her own. I’ll deal with men dating her, coming on to her, daydreaming of her in their bed so long as it’s mine she’s sleeping at night. I’ll let her handle all of it until someone puts their fucking hands on her. Then the game is over.
🤌🏼
“From now on, it’s my job to make sure you know how fucking beautiful you are. To make sure you don’t question it, and when you look in the mirror, you only see beauty. When you see spots you used to hate, you remember me kissing them. Make sure you know how fucking gorgeous I think every damn inch of you is.”
“I’m sorry, are you not Cassie’s father?” “I am.” He sounds peeved by it like he’s annoyed to be reminded. “I’m dating your daughter.” His frank words shut my father up, a feat I didn’t know was possible. “It’s serious. She wouldn’t bring me if it wasn’t. I hope you understand what I’m saying.” How he couldn’t figure that out, I don’t know, but my dad likes to hear and see what he wants to. “Now, is there a seat for us at this dinner? Otherwise, I’d be happy to take your only daughter to a fine restaurant befitting her gorgeous outfit.” A chill runs from my head to my toes.
“Jesus, sweetheart. You’re fucking gorgeous.” His words are laced with awe, like he can’t even process what he’s seeing.
“Shut up. You shut up and you kick those assholes out of your head. You don’t let them get to you, don’t let them tell you how to feel about yourself when you’re the most beautiful person, inside and out, I’ve ever met. And after tonight? Fuck those assholes. This is it. Unless you really, truly want to, we are not seeing your scumbag of a dad. Not goin’ out of your way to make time for a man who doesn’t treat you like a damn princess, for a man who doesn’t think you make the world turn.”
“I’m honored to be her man.”
The words catch at the small tear in my heart, one of thousands, catching it like a tiny threaded needle, adding a single stitch to the tear. Not enough to repair it —no, that’s my job. Only I can do the repairs, but a single stitch, a splint to keep it safe while I do the work.
I told you that first date I was keeping you. I’m here. I’m keeping you.
You need me to prove I’m not a piece of shit, that I’m real and I’m yours? I’ll wake every fuckin’ morning just to do that. I’ll wake up and do everything in my power to prove it to you.
And all this time, through the dozens of times he’s told and showed me, I’ve ignored it. Instead, so stuck in the trap of trying to protect myself, I couldn’t see there was a man in front of me willing to slay dragons for me, with me. Willing to do what it took to keep my heart safe and sound, to give me all of my girlish daydreams of family and friends and love. And I threw it away. But he couldn’t even throw away a silly fortune from a cookie. Oh God, what have I done?
“What’s stupid is me standing here in the cold, arguing with you about dumb ass shit instead of getting you back to my place so we can talk and I can peel you out of that dress I’ve been dreaming about since I found you on the side of the road.” I sit there blinking at him. “What?” “That dress. You were wearing it that night you had the flat.” I look at him, confused. “It was dark that night.” “Not that dark.” “It was pitch black, Luke.” “Trust me, babe. Nothing is too dark to see your body in that dress.”
We were actually working on a plan to win you over, get you to listen to me.” “What was your plan?” she asks, a small relieved smile on her face. “Honestly, we didn’t have one yet, so it’s a relief you stepped in.
“No, she probably will think I’m an idiot for letting you get away in the first place.” “You’re her baby boy, though.” “I’m also a man, meaning she thinks everything I do is tinged a bit with male stupidity.”
