“Daddy kiss!” a little voice interrupts. It’s a new game Elizabeth loves playing. She’ll demand this from each of us, and they have to be big, overdramatic events.
Brad picks her up and obliges with a big noisy smack on her cheek and she giggles her approval.
“His name is Tony, and he’s an electrical engineer,” I ignore Brad’s scoff, “and we’re going for a drink at My Place. I don’t need a rescue call because Max has already insisted on doing it.”Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised to see all three of my besties trying to camouflage themselves in the bar.
“WHAT?!” Brad roars, startling Lizzie. He apologises and rubs her back as he whisper shouts, “You've invited him your house on the first date? Shari, no! What if he's a complete nutter and now he knows where you live? What if he's awful and you can't get rid of him? Oh, this is bad, Blaze.” His sock-covered feet begin to wear a path on the laminate floor as my initial confusion morphs into amusement.
“Brad,” I chuckle, “no! Not my place as in my house. The bar in town called My Place!”
He stops in his tracks with a mumbled, “Oh, thank fuuu—dge,” because little ears.
Elizabeth takes this pause to yell, “Mama kiss!” I plant three big sloppy kisses just under her ear and revel in the laughter it elicits.
Just as Brad is about to say something that will no doubt annoy me, judging by the look on his face, our daughter screams, “Daddy kiss Mama!” Well, that’s new. She’s looking between us excitedly and clapping her little chubby hands. Neither of us is likely to deny our baby, so I present my cheek for Brad to peck.But instead of the loud smacking kiss I’m expecting, he brushes a tender kiss too close to the corner of my mouth to be accidental. My lashes flutter as I pull away, stunned into silence for once in my life. The palpable tension is only broken by Lizzie’s delighted screeching.
I clear my throat and ask, “How's Larissa? I'm surprised you didn't invite her over for a babysitting date.”
Brad's eyes harden. “Blaze, Lizzie is my daughter. I'm not babysitting her, I'm being her dad.”
Heart, meet ovaries, because I can definitely feel my pulse there right now. Seriously, these organs need to calm down with all their activity today.
“And we agreed that you'd be present for her first meeting with Lizzie.”
“I know we did, but you've been seeing her for a few months now. I guess I'm just surprised that you haven't even mentioned setting a date for that yet, seeing as I met Larissa myself nearly a month ago. I thought things were going well between you?” Not me hating myself for being hopeful that he says no.
“Are you saying you're ready for me to introduce Lizzie to Larissa?”
“No!” I deny too quickly. “I mean yes. I mean, well, I just...I just want you to be happy, Brad. And if that's with Larissa, then, yeah. Maybe it's time we introduce them.”
He doesn't say anything. Just studies me with an unreadable expression and I hate when I can't read him like this.
“Well, on that note, I’m going to head out. Bye, baby girl, be good for Daddy and I’ll see you in the morning for brekkie, ok? I love you, my munchkin.”
“Luvoo, Mama!” Man, I hope she never grows out of that.
“Text me when you get home, Shari. I just need to know that you’re safe. Please?” Brad’s concern both surprises andwarms me.No! No warming! Stop that right now, you stupid emotions. You are not welcome here thankyouverymuch.
“Umm, yeah. Ok. Have a good night.”
Ugh, why does my baby daddy have to be just so…so…everything?!
As I walkinto the bar, my nerves skyrocket. I'd been pretty calm about it until now, but the reality of actually going on my firstfirstdatein basically two decades is finally dawning on me.
What if he's a douche? What if he's great and I'm a total mess? Oh god, what if he stands me up?!
This was a terrible idea. There's still time for me to make my escape and I'll just apologise that something came up and I couldn't make it. I'm about to spin back to the door when I hear my name called.Shit, too late now.
I turn towards the voice and am pleasantly surprised to see that he does indeed look like his photos...until he stands from his barstool. I swear his profile said he was six-foot-four. Did I misread it? Because I'm five-foot-nine and wearing three-inch heels, and this guy barely clears my chin. Maybe it saidfive-foot-four?
His voice breaks through my stunned contemplation, “Wow, Sherry, you look even better than your photos!” His eyes creep slowly over my body in blatant perusal, but it makes me feel anything but attractive.
“Hi Tony, it's nice to meet you. And my name is actually pronounced Shah-ree. Rhymes with…Ferrari?”
“Sure, hun,” his dismissive words raise my hackles just as much as his predatory stare lingering on my cleavage. This can't be the same guy who I've been chatting with all week.
This was such a bad idea. Why is it that Brad's lustful gaze doesn't creep me out, but this guy makes my skin crawl? And why am I even thinking about Brad right now?
Tony finally manages to tear his eyes away from my chest and pulls a barstool out for me. Ok, that's at least a gentlemanly thing to do, so let's not criticise him too quickly. Be open-minded.
