You’re going to regret this.
CHAPTER 2
6 WeeksLater
WEBB
“Can I get you anything else, or just the check?”
I look up from my phone to meet my server’s questioning gaze, automatically flashing her a smile in response. “I’m done,” I reply, “but could I get a dozen muffins to go? Just a variety of flavors. Then I think I’m ready for the check.”
Glenda—or at least, that’s what her nametag says—nods. “A dozen muffins. Got it.” As she slides her notebook back into her apron, she gives me a lightning-quick once-over. Appreciation lights her eyes, and she edges closer to me. She flicks her hair. “I could throw in some cinnamon buns, too, if you’d like. And some of our homemade chocolate chip cookies.”
“Thanks for the offer,” I tell her, “but I think I’ll stick with the muffins. I promised my friends I’d bring some back for them.”
Glenda bites her lip. “Just your friends? Not… a girlfriend?”
Before I can respond, she moves even closer. Then she flips her ponytail over her shoulder. “I’ve seen you in here a few times,” she continues. “And I’ve been wondering?—”
I know where this is going. Which is why I need to put an end to it right away.
“I’m really busy with work,” I interrupt, couching my imminent rejection with an apologetic smile. “And I travel a lot. So I don’t have time to date right now.”
Glenda’s cheeks go pink. Then she steps back. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
Guilt niggles at me. I don’t like hurting her feelings, but I’m not interested in dating her, either. Not because she’s unattractive—she’s pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way, with dirty blonde hair and freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks—but there’s only one woman in town I’d want to go out with, and it isn’t her.
A few years ago, I wouldn’t have been as discriminating. I’d have taken Glenda up on her offer, making sure to let her know during the first date that I wasn’t looking for anything serious. If she was, we’d part ways with no hard feelings. If she was okay with something more casual, we’d spend a couple of enjoyable no-strings-attached nights together before moving on.
I know that’s how it would go, because I’ve been through it plenty of times before.
“Why won’t you settle down with a nice woman?”my mother bemoans almost every time I see her.“I understood wanting to play the field when you were younger. But you’re closing in on forty, Webb. Isn’t it time to think about a wife and family?”
A few years ago, I would have said no. The idea of marriage and kids seemed fine for other people, but not for me. It wasn’t that I came from a broken home, or experienced a crushing breakup that ruined me for all relationships. I just liked beingsingle. I liked the freedom of it, never having to be accountable for where I was going or how long I’d be gone. I enjoyed the thrill of meeting women, but not the parts after.
Then, about two years ago, my perspective started to shift.
My friends would come to visit with their wives or fiancées, and I’d feel a pang of envy at how happy they looked.
I’d take a family on one of our easier hiking tours, back when I worked for Peak Adventures, an outdoor adventure company in the Adirondack Mountains, and I’d find myself smiling at how excited the kids would get. I’d see a dad carrying his son on his shoulders and wonder,What would it be like if that were me?
I moved to Portland for a new job, one where I see my teammates and their partners every day, and I began to think that it might not be so bad to be part of a couple. Not if I found the right person, just as Rafe and Indy had.
I’m not ready to jump into online dating, like Rafe’s wife, Eden, suggested. There’s nothing wrong with meeting someone online, and I know people who have, but it’s not for me. I want to meet a woman in person. I want to hear her laugh. I want to know if her touch makes my skin tingle or her scent brings a rush of desire.
Glenda doesn’t make me feel that way, which is why I don’t want to give her hope of us dating. In fact, since my recent revelation about relationships, there’s only been one person who has.
“I’ll just grab those muffins,” Glenda mutters, ducking her head. “I’ll be right back with them and the check.”
Shit. I hurt her feelings. But would it have been better to let her think there was potential for more when there isn’t?
How can I fix this? Not by walking back my rejection, but there has to be…
I cast a quick look around Doug’s Diner, cataloguing the twenty or so people in various stages of eating.
And there.
The thirty-something guy who owns the hardware store in town. Randy. I’ve been in a few times, and he seems decent enough. Polite. Hard working. And I’m pretty sure he’s not married. Or at least, I hope he’s not, considering the way he’s eyeing Glenda from across the room.
