“I know you still want me, Shannon. You think I didn’t see you undressing me with your eyes earlier tonight?”
“I was not …” My words trailed off because I might not have been undressing him, but I was certainly lusting after him. Damn him for being so perceptive. He knew all my tells.
He chuckled again, this time with more warmth. “It’s okay to admit it. I still think you’re the sexiest woman in the entire fucking universe, so there’s that.”
A lump formed in my throat, an unexpected rush of arousal flooding me. Did he really think that, or was he just saying it as some cheap ploy to get me into bed? I needed to put a stop to this right now.
“No,” I managed, stepping out of his reach and folding my arms. “Please go.”
There was a flash of disappointment before he quickly masked it. “All right. I’ll go, but the offer stands. If you need me, all you have to do is ask.”
He turned and left, leaving me standing in my kitchen, a jumbled mess of emotions I didn’t have the first clue how to unpack. Why would he offer something like that? Why jeopardise the tentative friendship we’d only started to develop? I was so mad at him and at the same time infuriatingly needy. A part of me wished I had said yes and let him take me upstairs to bed. No one could compare to Jace, especially now that he was clean from drugs and also in the best shape of his life.
But that would be taking a step backward when I was determined to move forward. Jace thought he was offering some kind of easy, no strings sexual release. Well, maybe he could keep his emotions out of it, but I certainly couldn’t. Not with him.
I spent most of Saturday deep cleaning my house. Call it sexual frustration or merely ordinary frustration, but I needed to focus my energy somewhere. So that energy went into scrubbing my toilet bowls until they gleamed. I was so mad that Jace had the audacity to suggest I sleep with him instead of going on a date and potentially meeting someone I might want a relationship with. It wasn’t fair of him, but he also wasn’t being fair to himself. His recovery was important, and a messy sexual entanglement with his ex-wife could put his two-year clean streak in jeopardy.
So, yeah, I was mad at him on my own behalf, but I was also mad at him on his.
Zara was happy to chill in her room and try out the paint set her Uncle Roan had gifted her, which was good because I was in a bad mood.
By the time Sunday morning came around, I managed to leave my irritation at the door and focus on getting ready for mydate. I selected a black dress with matching tights and a pale grey cardigan. I wasn’t sure if it was date appropriate, but it was the sort of thing I wore on the one day a month I had to go into the office, so I assumed it was suitable enough.
When I knocked on Zara’s grandparents’ front door, my heart thudded, hoping Jace wasn’t the one to answer. I planned on pretending our conversation on Friday night never happened. He was getting this one pass from me, but I wouldn’t be so understanding if it happened again.
“Good morning, my beautiful ladies,” Jace said as he opened the door and pulled our daughter into a hug. His eyes came to rest on mine as he scooped Zara up into his arms then swung her around.
“Your granddad’s making pancakes,” he said as he lowered her back down. “Go tell him you want chocolate chips.”
Zara bobbed her head and ran inside the house yelling, “Granddad! I want chocolate chips on my pancakes.”
“Tell Jace to do his own dirty work,” Jay shouted back.
“You look pretty,” Jace said then, and I fought the urge to tell him he wasn’t allowed to say stuff like that to me anymore. His eyes lowered to the black heels I wore, and my attention went once again to the glint of his lip piercing. It took a concerted effort to shove away the memory of the cool metal against my mouth when he kissed me.
“Those shoes are very …” His sultry gaze flashed back up as a smirk shaped his lips, “Becoming.”
“I don’t need your opinion on my outfit,” I replied, my tone sharp. “I’ll be back around one.”
“Does meeting for coffee take three hours these days?” he shot back, and I fought the urge to start a row. It was clear he disliked the idea of me going on a date, but what did he want me to do? Sit around the rest of my life pining for what might’ve been?
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of humouring the question. Instead, I stated flatly, “Goodbye, Jace,” before turning on my three inch heels and walking away.
The café where I was to meet with Rufus was only a short taxi ride from Jay and Matilda’s house. I’d seen a couple pictures of him, so I knew he had dark hair, and his profile stated he was five feet ten inches. Scanning the space, I didn’t see him anywhere, so I ordered a latte and then took a seat to wait. I was still a few minutes early. As I waited, my phone vibrated in my bag, and I pulled it out to check. There was a text message from Jace, and my stomach did a flip just seeing his name.
Why did I want him so much more than the potential for something better with Rufus? Or if not him, someone else I might meet along my dating journey? I was sick; that was it. There was something wrong with me. Jace Fields had infected my heart with an incurable disease, one that made me want only him, no matter how much I tried to convince myself someone new was what I needed.
Opening the text, all it said wasYUM!and attached was a picture of Jace and Zara as they held up their forks, ready to dig into a giant stack of chocolate chip pancakes. I couldn’t help the grin that pulled at my lips when a voice asked, “Shannon?”
Closing out the text and shoving my phone back in my bag, I lifted my head and found Rufus standing before me. His wavy brown hair was adorably ruffled, and he wore a blue jumper with a shirt underneath, chinos, and brown leather shoes. He looked like a kind, ordinary dad, and that was exactly what I needed. The tattooed, hoodie-wearing rockstar was in my rearview mirror.
“Yes, I’m Shannon,” I said, standing to shake his hand, “And you must be Rufus. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Rufus smiled as he took me in. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I must say, you’re even prettier than in your pictures.”
“Oh,” I flushed. “That’s very kind of you to say.”
He nodded to my latte. “I see you’ve already grabbed yourself a coffee, but can I get you anything else? A sweet treat or a pastry, perhaps?”
