“Welcome home.” I looked up at Abby, but she walked by me without saying a word.
“She’s not happy.” Bridget walked in behind Abby and closed the front the door.
“What’s wrong?” I leaned back and watched as Abby went to her bedroom and closed the door.
“Jimmy Lawson broke up with her and now he has a new girlfriend.” Bridget walked into the living room and sat down. “She’s heartbroken.”
“Oh fuck.” I exhaled sharply. “See, this is why she doesn’t need a boyfriend at ten years old!”
“Having your heart broken is just part of growing up.” Bridget shrugged. “I had mine ripped out of my chest a few times before I was teenager.”
“Yeah, I still remember you asking me to beat up your first boyfriend after he dumped you.” I chuckled under my breath.
“You should have too!” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Maybe you need to pay Jimmy Lawson a visit.”
“Tempting, but I don’t think beating up a ten year old boy is going to heal Abby’s heartbreak—just like it wouldn’t have done a damn thing for you when you were that age.” I leaned back against the couch and sighed. “She’s growing up way too fast.”
“Yes she is.” Bridget nodded. “Pretty soon we’ll have to have the real talk with her.”
“I’m going to leave that to you.” I nodded quickly. “I’ll just be here to punch any guy in the face that tries to touch her.”
“You know that won’t really work.” Bridget rolled her eyes. “She’ll have to make her own decisions when the time comes, but we’ll have a good structure in place.”
“So, you’re not going to let her start dating when she’s fourteen?” I turned my head towards Bridget.
“Hell no.” Bridget shook her head back and forth. “Dad was a fucking idiot. He should have put his foot down and told me no.”
“Dad never gave a shit.” I shrugged. “We thought it was great when we were kids. Mom tried, but without his support…”
“Yeah.” Bridget exhaled sharply. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Abby to death, but I probably wouldn’t have ended up pregnant at fifteen if they had done a little more parenting.”
“That’s the guy I really should have punched in the face.” I growled under my breath. “Fucking asshole, leaving town the second you told him you were pregnant with his kid.”
“We learn from our mistakes, but Abby isn’t one that I’ll ever regret.” She shrugged. “I was angry at the time, but he’s had ten years to reach out and he’s never even met his daughter, so fuck it—he isn’t worth punching at this point.”
“Maybe.” I sighed. “Okay, are you going to try to talk to her, or should I?”
“I tried on the way home. You can give it a shot, but she might not be ready yet.” Abby leaned forward to stand. “I need to start dinner. I’m sure she’ll be hungry at some point.”
I walked down the hallway and knocked on Abby’s door. She told me to go away. There was a part of me that wanted to open the door, hug her, and tell her that things were going to be fine, but she wasn’t ready for that. I would just have to let her take some time to process her heartbreak. I went back to the living room and ate dinner with Bridget. We were just about to finish when Abby’s door opened, and she slowly walked down the hallway with red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks.
“Are you okay?” I looked over at her as she sat down.
“I’m hungry.” She looked down at her plate. “But I want ice cream.”
“Are you just using this break-up to get ice cream for dinner?” Bridget narrowed her eyes. “That sounds like something I would have done at your age.”
“No.” Bridget shook her head back and forth.
“I’ll get it.” I stood and walked to the freezer.
“Get me a spoon too.” Bridget looked over her shoulder.
“Okay.” I nodded as I grabbed three bowls and three spoons. “I guess we’re all having ice cream tonight.”
“So, what did you like about Jimmy Lawson anyway?” I looked over at Abby as I served the ice cream to the three of us.
“I don’t know.” Abby shrugged. “He plays Minecraft and I like to play that too.”
“Mine—craft?” I looked at Bridget in confusion.
“It’s the game she plays on her computer—if she finishes her homework before bedtime.” Bridget rolled her eyes.
“Ah, the building game. Okay.” I nodded in understanding. “So, you talk to him on there?”
“I used to.” Bridget took a bite of ice cream. “Not anymore though. He said he wanted a girlfriend that didn’t play video games. I’m not going to stop playing Minecraft for a boy…”
“Sounds like Jimmy Lawson wasn’t worth your time.” I suppressed a laugh. “Maybe wait until you’re older to look for your next boyfriend.”
“Nah.” A slight grin formed on the edge of Bridget’s lips. “His best friend Charlie still plays with me—and he’s cuter than Jimmy.”
“Oh lord…” Bridget looked down at her bowl and I saw her trying to hide a smile.
Yeah, we’re going to be in a lot of trouble with this one…
We ate our ice cream while Abby told me everything there was to tell about Minecraft. She had mentioned it a few times and I had seen her playing it, but I really didn’t pay much attention to what she was doing in the game. She even convinced me to come back to her room and watch for a little bit—I could even play if I wanted. I went with her and by the time she finished showing me all of the things she built in her game, she was laughing and smiling. Jimmy Lawson had become a distant memory—or possibly just replaced by Charlie, who was typing things into the box at the bottom of the screen while they played.
“Okay, I think it’s time for bed.” I looked at the clock, which had already ticked past eight o’clock.
“You haven’t told me about your date yet.” She looked at me but started shutting down her computer.
“I haven’t gone on a date.” I tilted my head to the side. “I’m going out with Chloe on Saturday.”
“I know, but you need to tell me everything that you have planned. I’ll make sure you’re doing enough to make her your wife.” Abby hopped up from her chair and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Let’s um—not talk about that for a while.” I chuckled under my breath. “I’m taking her to a nice restaurant. It’s our first date, so we’re going to take things slow.”
“Make sure you ask her to be your girlfriend. It’s not official until you actually ask her.” Abby gave me the most serious look a ten year old could muster.
“Uh, yeah—I’ll try to work that into the conversation.” I smiled and pointed to her pillow. “Time for bed.”
“Fine…” She crawled over and slid underneath the covers.
Even though she was up past her bedtime, she wasn’t going to let me leave without reading her a bedtime story, so I grabbed a short book and went through it as fast as possible. She fell asleep before I got to the last page. I turned out the lights and went back to the living room. Bridget was outside, and I assumed she was self-medicating with marijuana like she did most nights. I wasn’t a huge fan, but at least she only did it in the evenings after Abby was in bed. A little buzz was better than getting plastered, like our mother used to do most nights before she found Jesus.
“You ever going to quit that shit?” I looked up at Bridget as she walked into the living room.
“I’ll probably have to before Abby gets old enough to recognize the smell.” She shrugged as she sat down.
“How old were you the first time you got high?” I tensed up, actually scared of the reply since I knew she had been smoking it since she was a teenager.
“Oh, I smoked my first joint on my first date—I took care of those two firsts on the same night—along with another one…” She chuckled under her breath.
“You…” My words trailed off. “You slept with that guy? On your very first date?”
“Yeah... He was sixteen a
nd he had a car. I was in love.” She threw her hands up. “Bad parenting, what can I say?”
“Fucking hell.” I shook my head back and forth. “Okay, we’re just going to lock Abby in her room until she’s thirty.”
“That might not be a bad idea.” She shrugged. “I think she’ll make better choices though. She’s a lot smarter than I was at her age.”
“That’s because you’re a much better Mom than ours was.” I nodded. “You do a good job with her, even if things are tough sometimes.”
“I have you to thank for most of that.” She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when you get a girlfriend and want to move out!”
“I’ll always be around, even if I don’t live here. It’s too early to think about all of that anyway. We haven’t even had our first date.” I picked up the television remote and turned it on. “Not that it’s stopping Abby from giving me dating advice—and planning my wedding.”
“She’ll be the best flower girl ever—just saying.” Bridget winked at me.
“At the rate she’s trying to grow up, she might end up trying to be the minister.” I hit the button on the remote to switch the television to Netflix. “I assume you want to watch some stupid comedy movie since you’re high.”
“Absolutely—but none of that romantic garbage. Fine something raunchy.” She grinned.
“Here we go. This one is about two guys that get high and pretend to be police officers.” I nodded and hit the button to start the movie. “It’s rated R.”
“Perfect.” She turned towards the television screen.
At least this will distract me from what’s really on my mind—my date with Chloe.
Saturday night
“Oh my god, these heels do not feel good on my feet!” I grimaced as I tried to take a step. “I think I need to wear mine—your foot is way too small.”
“No, you just never wear them, so you’re not used to it.” Lola laughed and shook her head. “We’re the same size.”
“My heels don’t feel like I’m stuck in a fucking vise.” I grimaced again as I took a second step.
“They also flap on your foot like a flip-flop.” Lola walked over and adjusted a strand of hair that had fallen into my face.
“Hopefully I don’t fall on my face before the night is over.” I forced a smile and turned to look at myself in the mirror.
“You won’t—I hope.” She winked at me in the mirror. “Seriously though, you look beautiful. It’s going to be a good night.”
“I’m nervous.” I turned towards her. “It doesn’t help that I’ve had several days to dwell on it.”
“At least you don’t have to wait another week like I do. I’m not going to get to go out with Adam until next weekend.” She sighed. “Hopefully he won’t get called in before dessert.”
“Well if my date goes badly, you can help me drown my sorrows with wine—I’ll do the same for you next weekend if it doesn’t work out with Mr. Doctor.” I smiled and nodded.
“You? Drunk?” She chuckled. “I might have a bad date now just to see that.”
“No you won’t—watching me get drunk off one glass of wine ain’t worth the rest of your life.” I walked over and picked up my purse. “Okay, wish me luck.”
“I think I’m supposed to say break a leg or something—but you actually might do that, so—good luck.” She grinned and walked with me to the door.
I was beyond nervous as I walked down the hallway and hit the button to call for the elevator. Grace set up a date for us at The Hawthorne, which was one of the fanciest restaurants in St. Louis. I felt poor just driving past the place, but she said it was where Cain wanted to take me. I really did hope it was going to be a good date. I had been thinking about Cain a lot since we made plans for our first date, and despite all of my previous hesitation, I really did want to see if there was anything between us. It might be my only chance to find someone who truly understood what I had gone through and didn’t think I was crazy for letting bad experiences from my past ruin my future.
Okay, here goes nothing.
I drove up to the front of The Hawthorne and turned over my car to the valet. It was probably going to be the ugliest one in the lot but parking it myself wasn’t an option unless I wanted to walk several blocks in murder-heels. It was getting easier to find my footing in them, but I still felt like there was a good chance I could fall on my face at any second.
“Hi, my name is Chloe West. I’m supposed to meet a Mr. Cain Stevenson?” I walked up to maitre d’ as soon as I stepped into the restaurant.
“Ah yes, your date was set up by What the Heart Wants.” He nodded. “Follow me, Mr. Stevenson is already here.”
“Okay.” I swallowed hard and balanced myself on my heels as I started to follow him.
He led me to the back of the restaurant and then I saw Cain for the very first time. He looked just like his picture—but it didn’t do him justice. He stood as I approached and I felt my stomach churning. He wasn’t just attractive. He was hot! So freaking hot that my jaw nearly fell open. He was at least six foot five with broad shoulders and a wide chest. He was wearing a suit, but the sleeves were tight enough for me to almost see the outline of his muscular arms pressed against the fabric. I could see a hint of ink along the bottom of each sleeve which were definitely hiding some tattoos. His beard was dark black, with a hint of salt-and-pepper, but it was neatly trimmed. His eyes were almost the color of obsidian and when they locked on me, his stare was enough to make me almost melt into the floor.
Holy shit. He looks like he should be sitting across the table from a successful actress or a model, not some Plain-Jane who just graduated college.
“Chloe.” He walked closer as I approached. “You look ravishing.”
“You—don’t look so bad yourself.” I nearly stumbled over my words, and then realized they weren’t as eloquent as his.
“The waiter will be over shortly.” The maitre d’ tried to get my chair, but Cain beat him to it and pulled it out for me.
“Wow, this place is something else.” I looked around the room, finally taking in the sights. “All of these people look like they’re rich and beautiful.”
“Not half as beautiful as you.” He smiled and sat down. “And money is worthless once you have enough to get by.”
“Perhaps…” I nodded. “I won’t know about that until I find a job.”
“Still not having any luck?” He titled his head to the side.
“No. I have applied everywhere that I can think of, but I’m not even getting a call back.” I sighed. “I guess I should have picked a different major.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something.” He turned his head as the waiter approached.
“Good evening and welcome to The Hawthorne. My name is Stefan. Can I start you with a drink? Perhaps something from our wine menu?” Stefan’s smile was so perfectly placed on his lips that it might as well have been plastic.
“What do you think?” Cain turned his attention back to me.
“I think I’ll just start with a water.” I nodded quickly.
“Same for me.” Cain smiled and turned his attention back to the waiter.
“Okay, I’ll be back with those and I’ll take your order if you’re ready.” He gave a slight nod and then walked away.
“I guess we should look at the menu.” Cain picked up two and handed me one.
“I’m not even sure what this place serves…” I opened the menu.
Well, there are no prices on any of the meals—that’s usually a sign that everything is really expensive.
“It looks like they’ve got a little bit of everything.” Cain scanned the menu. “I’ve never been here either.”
“You didn’t have to take me to an expensive restaurant.” I raised an eyebrow. “I would have been perfectly fine eating a burger and fries.”
“Ah yes, the staple diet of any college student.” He chuckled. “I don’t get to eat out very often, so I figured it wouldn’t hur
t to see how the other side lives—apparently they live on stuff I can’t pronounce. You’ve got a college education—what does this mean?”
“Uh…” I tilted my head as Cain turned his menu to me and pointed at a word. “Papperdelle? I have no idea.”
“Then I’m not eating it…” Cain turned his menu back towards him and kept reading. “Steak au Poivre. I hope that means I get a steak…”
“It seems like a safe bet.” I lifted my hand to my lips and chuckled.
“What do you eat when you’re not living off burgers and fries?” Cain put his menu down, seemingly satisfied with his choice.
“Pizza?” I grimaced. “Chicken fingers? I think I need to work on my diet…”
“Do you want to just get out of here?” He looked towards the door.
“No, you wanted to see how the rich people eat—I’m sure I can find something. Grilled Chicken Paillard? I guess that’s got chicken…”
“I’ve seen it. I’m not impressed.” Cain scoffed and shook his head. “I’m seriously okay with just leaving if you would rather go somewhere that has burgers and fries.”
“Please?” I put down my menu and nodded.
We escaped before the waiter returned with our water, and I was pretty sure I would never go back to The Hawthorne. It was fancy, but that wasn’t me. I didn’t need a fancy restaurant to be impressed—and I was actually dying for something fried. We got our keys from the valet, but we didn’t wait for them to get our vehicles. Cain took my hand and led me towards the parking area. He walked a little faster than me, and I struggled to keep up in the heels, but I so happy to leave The Hawthorne that I didn’t care.
“You want to ride with me?” He hit a button on his keys, and I saw the tail lights on a blue truck flash. “Or is it too soon for you to get in a truck with a stranger?”
“Nah, I guess I can trust you.” I grinned and followed him to his truck.
Dear Mr. Firefighter: The Match Maker Series Page 6
