“Why aren’t you married?” The words tumbled out before he could stop them.
Skylar set the menu down with a soft thud against the polished wooden table. “I was. He couldn’t keep it in his pants.” Her voice carried no bitterness, just matter-of-fact acceptance.
“I see. How long have you been divorced?” Rawley leaned forward.
“Four years now. We were married almost nine years.” She traced the condensation on her water glass with a manicured finger. “Why aren’t you married?”
“Never found the right woman... yet.” His deep voice lingered on the last word.
“So, you’re still looking?” She cocked an eyebrow, the dim overhead light casting shadows across her cheekbones.
“Let’s just say, I’m not really looking. I’m waiting. I don’t believe you can go out and find love. I think it hits you when you least expect it. If you look for it, you’re never going to find it.”
“Explain that.” She folded her arms, the silver bracelet on her wrist catching the light.
Rawley sat back in the booth, the leather creaking beneath him. “If you spend all your time looking, you just might miss it. Let it find you. Wait for it. Don’t settle.”
“I agree.” She nodded. “I think I settled for Lawson. We were young, in love, and couldn’t wait to get married, but things changed and I wasn’t happy. It seemed to happen fast.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was my fault.”
“Your fault? Thathecheated?” Rawley’s voice deepened with disbelief.
“I was busy all the time with my books...” She shook her head, her earrings reflecting the lights.
“I don’t believe that.” He shook his head. “Just because he wasn’t getting the attention he wanted, he looked for it somewhere else, when he should have just talked to you about it.”
“I tried to get him to go to counseling, but he refused.” She sighed. “I knew it was over. I was relieved more than hurt.”
“I can see that.” He tilted his head. “Is McCoy your married name?”
“No. I took my maiden name back. How about serious relationships? How many of those have you had, Rawley?” She took a sip of water, leaving a faint lipstick mark on the glass.
“Serious relationships,” he said as he rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “The first time I fell in love was in the fifth grade.” He grinned. “She was my girlfriend for two years until her family moved away.”
“Fifth and sixth grade.” Skylar shook her head, her glossy hair catching the light.
“As much love as a young boy can feel at that age. I wanted to marry her.” He grinned.
“Young love is tough. Any other time?” She leaned forward, her perfume drifting across the table.
“Sure. I’m forty-two years old.” He ran a hand through his hair. “There have been a few times I was sure I was falling but didn’t, so I’m still waiting.” He stared at her, his gaze intense and unwavering.
****
Skylar couldn’t keep her eyes off the man. His chiseled jawline caught the light from the pendant lamps overhead, and the way his dark eyes lingered on her face sent a flush of heat across her skin. He knew exactly what he was doing with that half-smile.
“I’d like to find love again,” she said softly, tracing the rim of her glass with one manicured fingertip.
Rawley nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled at the approaching server.
“Hello, I’m Marco. Have you decided on what you want?”
Skylar laughed. “No. I’m sorry. We got busy talking.”
“No problem. I’ll check back. Take your time.” The server glided away between the crowded tables.
Rawley picked up his leather-bound menu, the restaurant’s light catching the light. “I guess we’d better decide.”
“What’s good?” Skylar asked, scanning the elegant script of the menu descriptions.
