by Kensie King
I poured us both a shot, we clinked our glasses together, and drank.
Bea was right. There were plenty of fish. But I wasn’t so sure I wanted to keep fishing anymore.
Chapter 2
RYAN
I felt guilty leaving work early, even if I’d told everyone I was taking the night off over a week ago. But this was for a good cause. I needed to get out sometimes, live my life.
Which meant it was date night. Even though I was exhausted and I would have been perfectly fine staying home with Tucker and watching cartoons, I was going to make myself get out.
I couldn’t keep limiting all my social interaction to a five-year-old who wanted to play trains 24/7 and thought cereal covered all the food groups.
Besides, I already had a sitter. Might as well take advantage of it.
I showered and put on a blue button-up shirt, leaving a few top buttons undone. Then I tousled my hair in the mirror. Playful and flirty but not over the top.
Then I undid one more button.
After all, I was meeting Dirk. True story. At least, that’s what he said his name was when we talked online. He had a playful personality and he seemed to want to keep things light.
Right now, light was exactly what I needed. To forget the long week I’d had and pretend I had some semblance of a life.
I drove to meet Dirk at one of my favorite bars, Toxic. Friday’s were always the best, with a live band, people from every walk of life, and a good atmosphere.
When I pulled into the parking lot a few minutes before eight, it was already busy, with music pouring out the doors in the back and laughter echoing in the evening.
The sun kissed the tops of the mountains to the west, but the night was warm.
I stepped inside to a Billy Joel cover and smiled at one of the bartenders who recognized me.
“Hey,” she said. “Ryan, right?”
“Right. And you’re Bea?”
She grinned. “In the flesh. Here for karaoke?”
I blinked. “Uh—no…” I glanced to the stage and saw the cutie there crooning about love. “A date.”
“Ah…” She leaned in conspiratorially. “First date? Blind date? Double date?”
I laughed, feeling some of my nerves easing. Even though I’d done this a handful of times over the summer, I still felt a little nervous meeting someone new.
“First date,” I told her.
“Kinda loud in here but there are some open tables in the back. Drink?”
“Sure.” I told her what I wanted while looking around, trying to find Dirk in the crowd.
She slid the drink across the bar. “This one’s on us.”
“Really?” I asked.
Bea glanced at the man standing a few feet down the bar. I’d seen him before a few times—always impeccably dressed and looking cool and in charge. And he was always talking with a guy or flirting with one. I’d heard he was a major player, but maybe he was just being friendly since I’d also heard he was the boss.
Tonight, he looked sexy in his white shirt and dark jacket, his eyes locking on mine while he gave me a smile.
“On the house,” he said. “Liquid courage. Good luck.”
I lifted the drink in salute and headed to the back of the bar. A soft breeze blew through the doors as I stepped outside and I walked all the way to the farthest table, hoping we’d have enough quiet to talk before…whatever happened.
Tonight, I almost didn’t care. I wanted to lose myself in some harmless flirting, some casual touches. Maybe even something more if things went well.
It sounded better than brooding about the day or the sad state of my life right now. My sister had just gotten engaged.
In fact, it felt like everyone around me was getting engaged. Turning into grown-ups and getting married, having kids.
I’d done it out of order and out of character, too. But Tucker coming into my life was the best thing that could have happened. It was best for him and had turned out amazing for me.
I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
But it wasn’t easy raising a kid on my own.
I wanted help. I wanted a partner. I wanted someone to share the load with. And at the same time, I was terrified of it. I was doing fine with Tucker on my own. I was the parent he needed and I didn’t want him to have to go through anything worse in his life than he’d already gone through.
So, this was good. I pulled my phone out. This was enough for now. Drinks. Flirting. A good time with someone who didn’t want to be serious.
After scanning what I could see of the bar again and not seeing Dirk, I sent him a quick text. I’m at a table in back. See you soon.
He was only a few minutes late. Not hard to do with a full parking lot outside and the herd of people inside. For all I knew, he was already here and just couldn’t find me.
Cheers went up inside when the band changed the genre of music and played something by Rhianna. I smiled to myself. Acoustic cover. Decent. And clever.
Another several minutes went by as I listened to conversations and the music. As I started to wonder if Dirk had gotten my text. He hadn’t returned it. And I didn’t see him anywhere.
Maybe he’d come, gotten one look at me, and decided I wasn’t for him.
I’d been there before. But I’d never just turned around and walked out. I’d always politely sat down with them, had a few drinks, and then ended the night early.
Tucker was a great excuse. Sorry, I’ve got to get home to say goodnight to my kid. I tried not to use that one often, but it worked in a pinch.
After ten more minutes, I downed the rest of my drink and thought about searching inside again.
“Need another?”
I glanced over and saw the man from inside at my table. Fuck, he was cute. He smiled, one dimple appearing on his cheek.
He gestured to my drink when I didn’t answer.
“I’m not sure.” I frowned and then shrugged. “I think I might have gotten stood up.”
“Damn. You definitely need another. I’ll grab you one.”
He turned before I could argue, so I relaxed in my seat again. Might as well have one more and enjoy the music before I headed home.
When he returned, he set the drink down along with one for himself, and then joined me at the table, making me smile in surprise.
“I’m taking it he still hasn’t shown up,” the man said.
“No.”
“How late is he?”
I checked my phone. “Over thirty minutes.”
“Forget him.” He held out a hand. “I’m Mason.”
I took his hand, my fingers closing over his warm ones. He squeezed just slightly before releasing me. I missed the warmth immediately.
“Ryan,” I told him. “Single—obviously. And pretty pathetic right now.”
“Him not showing up makes him pathetic, not you. But it’s nice to meet you. Also single,” he said with a grin. “And feeling a little pathetic here, too.”
“Why’s that?”
He shifted in his chair, glancing into the bar. “You really want to know? I kind of hijacked your date.”
I laughed. “What date? Please. You sitting here makes me look much less pathetic than me sitting alone. Thanks for the drink, too.”
He grinned. “My pleasure. So why am I pathetic? You ever been the third wheel?”
“Sure.”
“My best friend is getting married—he just got engaged tonight, actually. Which means I’m the third wheel. I don’t mind that part too much. But you ever feel like you’re the only one who isn’t playing grown-up?”
“Yes. I was just thinking about that. My younger sister got engaged last week, and here I am meeting a guy named Dirk—I know, I had to laugh too. But even he can’t bother to show up.” I glanced at my phone. “Or text me, apparently.”
“You have a job?” he asked, making me blink in surprise at his abruptness. “I ask because if you have a job, at least you’re mostly making it in the grown-up department.
”
I leaned back, releasing a breath of relief. “Well, at least there’s that.”
“Same here. It seems like the job is the easy part. It’s the rest that doesn’t work like you plan.”
With a nod, I leaned back and really studied him. Broad shoulders, a nice build. Probably close to the same height as me. His eyes spoke of confidence, as did the way he carried himself. Confident, sure. Successful even.
But he was a bartender, or…?
Keeping it casual, I asked, “How long have you worked here?”
He flashed a grin. “Since we opened five years ago. My business partner—the one who just got engaged—and I had the vision for this place. We officially opened in the summer five years ago.”
“Happy anniversary,” I said, lifting my glass.
He clinked his against mine. “Thank you.”
That was definitely more than I was hoping for. Not just the boss, the owner. Where had this guy come from? All I knew was that I’d completely forgotten about Dirk.
Mason was taking my mind off all that. His smile, his quick wit. His physique. I could see myself getting very distracted. Who cared if he was a player? I needed this distraction badly.
“What do you do?” he asked.
“I’m a chef. I should be cooking tonight, actually. Friday’s our busiest day of the week. But, you know, I was trying to have a life.”
“It’s hard, right? I’m here every night almost. At least I can meet people. Socialize. But those are mostly temporary interactions, not long-term kinds of relationships.”
His eyes were locked on mine when he said that, like he might be interested. I was definitely interested, but also thinking he was far more put together than Dirk and I was probably out of my league.
“I hear you,” I said, finishing the last of my drink. “Everyone I work with is either married or playing for the wrong team.”
He laughed. “Life, huh? Doesn’t it always seem to kick you when you’re down?”
“Always.”
He glanced back to the bar and then gave me an apologetic look. “I think they need me in there.”
“Of course. I appreciate the company.”
“Me too.” He stood and grabbed both empty glasses. “Sorry about your night.”
“It didn’t turn out too bad after all. I might listen to another few songs before I head home.”
“You do that,” he said with a smile. “And if you need anything else to drink, it’s on the house.”
“Thanks.”
When he turned to leave, I felt a flicker of disappointment. Damn. That had been fun and now he was leaving. The first decent guy I’d met in months and he didn’t seem to feel the same way.
But then Mason turned back. “If you’re not busy next week—or don’t have any other hot dates…would you like to get together?”
I smiled at him, already on board before he finished. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 3
MASON
I walked into the manager’s office the next Saturday an hour before my date with Ryan, feeling nerves I wasn’t used to feeling.
I barely knew this guy, only that he’d been in a few times before and his situation reminded me of myself. We had things in common. And we were both available and attractive. It seemed like a good fit.
So why should it make me nervous? Maybe because we’d already practically had a first date and now this was a second one. An actual date at his house, which got more personal than I was used to.
I usually brought men to my house for the night. And it was usually only once.
Ryan had invited me to his place to cook dinner. That was out of my element. More than that, I actually liked him.
Tate sat at the desk, his eyes locked on the computer screen. Without looking up, he said, “Don’t tuck in your shirt.”
I glanced down at my shirt and frowned. “What?”
“You’re going on a date, you want to look put-together but not stuck up. Stuffy. Untuck your shirt.”
“How do you know I’m going on a date?” I asked.
He looked up with a grin. “You checked to make sure it was fine if you left early. You’re wearing your dark gray jacket—though I think you should have gone with the leather one, but—”
“Don’t fuck with my head,” I murmured, now rethinking my entire outfit.
Maybe I should have gone more casual. After all, it was at Ryan’s house. But this was how I dressed. And I wanted to make a good impression and—damn, I was really overthinking this.
“So it is a date,” Tate said. “Tell me.”
“Nothing to tell.”
“That sexy guy from last week. The one who got stood up.”
“What the hell?” I asked. “Have you been stalking me?”
“No need. I work with you. That’s enough. Plus, you’ve talked about him three times this week.”
My mouth opened, but I couldn’t deny it. I hadn’t said anything directly to Tate, but I’d talked with Bea because…well, we were in the same boat. And she’d seen the man so she knew he was hot.
“Maybe this is a bad idea,” I said.
“What? The jacket or going on a date at all? Because I think you’re probably wrong on both accounts.” Tate frowned. “Though if he’s another one of those assholes like the last guy—”
I waved my hand, cutting him off. “Don’t want to hear about it. He wasn’t an asshole.”
“He pissed you off,” Tate said, his voice going soft.
“I wasn’t pissed off at him, I was pissed off at myself.”
“What? Why?”
I ran a hand through my hair and then shrugged, giving him a smile and ending the conversation. “Not a big deal.” I untucked my shirt. “Better?”
“Yeah. Run your hand through your hair a few more times, too.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“So it looks like you had a quickie on the way over,” he quipped, then rolled his eyes when I flipped him off. “So you don’t look so perfect. Obviously. You don’t have to try so hard.”
I gritted my teeth. I was trying hard. Because I actually thought Ryan was pretty amazing and I didn’t want this date to end like his last had. I wanted him to enjoy it.
“You’re so helpful,” I said dryly. “I’m heading out. Don’t get distracted by Liam tonight—it’s going to be busy.”
This time, Tate flipped me off, and I left the room chuckling. I could give as good as I got.
But damn, Tate saw right through me most of the time. I had been pissed off with the last guy I’d dated. Because I’d made it clear up front that there were no strings. But then he’d wanted another date and fuck if I didn’t want it too. I’d liked him. Taking it beyond that, though, meant I was getting into a potential relationship, and I didn’t do relationships—not since I’d gotten cheated on.
And that had been my last date for months. All the sudden, I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore. If I couldn’t figure out my dating life, there was no sense in going on date after date just to fuck up my brain some more.
But now here I was, going out with a guy I already knew I liked. A recipe for disaster or a blessing in disguise?
I wasn’t sure, but right now, I felt like I was finally ready to find out.
Chapter 4
RYAN
I bustled around the kitchen, getting out pots and pans while Tucker sat on the counter and watched, two trains in his hands and his hair fluffy on the top of his head.
He hadn’t had a nap today and hadn’t wanted me to get ready for tonight. At least I’d had the whole day off. I had time to play with him and take him to the park—get in some quality time before I focused on myself.
The sitter was coming in ten minutes to pick him up. Part of me felt guilty. I had already gone out last week. But the other part of me needed this. I needed to start getting my identity back.
I needed to become Ryan James, the chef and parent again instead of just the disheveled Ryan James, the dad who
barely made it to work on time because his kid had been sick last night.
Tucker was five now. I’d had him for two years. Two of the roughest years of my life, but we’d made it. Now he was sleeping through the night and he seemed whole. Happy.
Wasn’t it time I made sure I was whole, too?
“Choo choo!” Tucker said behind me.
I turned around and gave him a smile before pulling out wine glasses.
“Drink!” Tucker said.
I pointed to his sippy cup. “Milk. You can bring it to Zoe’s house.”
He picked up his cup and frowned. “But…I wanna stay here.”
“Not tonight, buddy.” At his small pout, I tried to reason with him. “Daddy needs to have time, too.”
“Adult time!”
“That’s right.”
I plucked Tucker off the counter before going to the panty to find wine. He curled his arms around my neck, hanging on while I made “choo choo” noises like we were riding the train.
“All aboard!” he yelled, making me smile.
I opened the pantry and examined what I had on the top shelf. Several nice bottles of red and some decent whites. Red would go with dinner nicely.
“Which one?” I asked Tucker.
He pointed to the one with the black label and I nodded. “Good choice.”
The doorbell rang. Tucker squirmed in my arms to get down.
I set him on the ground but hollered after him as he ran to the door. “Don’t forget to ask who it is first!”
He skidded to a stop at the front door, with me lingering several feet behind him.
“Who’s it?” he asked, putting his ear to the door.
“It’s Zoe,” she said in her musical voice.
Tucker looked back at me. I nodded. “Go ahead.”
He opened the door and launched himself into Zoe’s waiting arms. My heart squeezed. It had taken him a while to show any kind of attachment to anyone, let alone people who weren’t family.
But now he was doing so well.
I passed Zoe his backpack and said, “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s easier with his bedtime watching him here, but—”
“No worries, Mr. James. We’re just a few houses down. He can keep sleeping when I bring him back.”
