Our server hates us because we stay at that table long after we’ve finished eating. I tell him all the stories, and he soaks them up like he’s been starving for them. By the time I’m out of stories, his eyes are glassy.
“I’ve missed so much. I owe you so much more than I can ever make up.”
“You’re here now,” I say. “And you might be able to make it up to me by the time we’re both ninety.”
He takes the check from the server and pays for our meal. I don’t even offer.
As we’re leaving the diner together, I see a guy in a hat and sunglasses on a bench outside the restaurant who looks an awful lot like Deacon. I’d recognize those sexy forearms anywhere.
Bryson has already started in the direction of the bench, and he’s expecting me to walk with him, because he’s still talking. I do not want to walk by Deacon and have him recognize me and want to talk. I don’t even want him to see me with Bryson and start asking questions.
It’s like what Deacon and I have is this delicate bubble, and the slightest hiccup could burst it. I’m not ready to lose the fun adult time we’ve been having.
I grab Bryson’s arm and yank, but he resists, looking back over his shoulder at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Shit. This is going to create even more of a scene.
I drop his arm, turn, and just start walking in the other direction.
He catches up seconds later. “Um, my car’s parked the other way. Did I do something to piss you off?”
“Just keep walking,” I say in a low voice. I don’t want Deacon to hear my voice or notice me at all.
“Um, okay.” Bryson shuts up and stays by my side.
He doesn’t question me or suggest I’m being hysterical or any of the things he would have done when we were together if I’d acted this way.
We’re a block away from the restaurant and Deacon when I finally speak. I still haven’t figured out exactly the right thing to say, but I have to say something.
“There’s a guy back there I want to avoid.”
Bryson stops in his tracks and looks back the way we came. “Is someone hassling you, Melly? Where is he?”
OK, so he hasn’t changed that much. I have to laugh at his narrowed glare and clenched fists. “It’s nothing like that. It’s just some guy I’m dating casually.”
He relaxes, but he still looks worried. “And you don’t want him to see you out with another guy?”
“Uh-huh.”
He studies me, arms over his chest. “Is he the jealous type? You’re casual, right? And I’ll tell him I’m your ex if you want.”
Damn it. I don’t want Bryson thinking badly of Deacon. “He’s not the jealous type. He’s the type I don’t want knowing about my family drama. We’re the kind of casual where we don’t talk about our personal lives.”
“And he thinks you don’t have an ex or go out to eat in this town?”
I don’t like the way Bryson’s studying me like he can read me. He can’t read me. He doesn’t know me anymore. “Of course he knows I have exes. Just let it go, Bryson. I don’t want to run into him, that’s all.”
He steps closer, leaning in. “If you’re afraid of him, you can tell me. I’ll make sure he never comes near you or Harper again.”
I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t even know about Harper. That’s why I didn’t want to run into him with you. Because you’d introduce yourself as Harper’s dad, and I don’t want him to know I have a child.”
He stares at me, clearly baffled. “How does he not know you have a child?”
“He only comes over when Harper’s with my parents. I put all her toys in her room and close her door.”
He shakes his head. “Why? I mean, I get you not wanting Harper to meet the guy you’re seeing if it’s casual, but why can’t he even know about her?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Have you ever dated a single mother, Bryson?”
