I didn’t miss how he didn’t explain why he was asking.
But honestly, I went back to my room so fast, I didn’t get a chance to wonder why any longer than I had to.
* * *
I knewit had been an extra dumb idea to show up to the bar when the second question my date asked was “How old are you?”
He was a decent-looking guy.
My date leaned back in his chair and muttered, “Huh,” his expression funny after I told him.
Something about it didn’t sit right with me, that or I was just picking up on things I should have let go. “Why?”
“Thought you were younger,” the man had the balls to respond with.
I raised my eyebrows, positive I definitely wasn’t liking where this was going, but… I could give him the benefit of the doubt. As much as I had been telling myself I was fine, I hadn’t been. Not really. “What? Am I too old?” I tried to joke.
He shrugged.
Shrugged?
Was he for real?
The partial smile I had on my face just fell right off. “How old are you?”
He was still watching me a little too closely as he said, “Thirty-four.”
Thirty-four?Thirty-fourandIwas too old?
“You look younger than twenty-six though.”
“Oh.” I hoped I sounded as sarcastic as I felt. “Thanks?” Man, I was grumpy. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been so grouchy before.
His eyes slid around the bar for a moment before coming back to me, looking me over like… well, I wasn’t sure what, but I didn’t like it.
“So,” I tried grasping for straws at that point because all I wanted was to go home. All I had to do was text Lenny a message that said RED and she’d call and save me. The second that option filtered through my brain, I reminded myself that I was supposed to betrying. I had totry.I had to want someone else to buy me flowers, and not because they’d hurt my feelings. “Have you been married before?” I asked him.
The man snickered, his gaze moving around the room again. “For about a minute ten years ago. Dumbest mistake of my life. You?”
I shook my head, not sure how to take his comment about it being a mistake.
“Thank God,” he mumbled, making a face as he said it like there would have been something wrong with me being divorced.
I opened my mouth just as the chair beside mine got dragged backward. My hands stopped, and I looked over, wondering who was taking the chair without asking, when my eyes zeroed in on the knuckles holding onto the back of the seat. I might have been able to recognize his fingers even if l
etters on knuckles wasn’t something everyone had.
Especially not on knuckles connected to dinner plate-sized hands… hands connected to wrists that were covered by a familiar elastic, tight shirt.
I was pretty sure my mouth must have been partially opened as Rip fell down into the seat hard, his legs spreading wide in a V-shape instantly, his attention straight on the man across from… us.
Across from us.
Ah.
What was he doing here?
“Is this over now?” my boss drawled easily, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in the chair, somehow making himself look even bigger by spreading out.
