God help her.
She’s a widower with nothing to lose, hoping for a second chance at her happily ever after, even if it means surviving absurd dates and kissing a few toads to find a suitable, mature man.
But when Jaxon Reinheart unexpectantly adds his name to her dance card, Rhonda throws caution to the wind. The much younger, single dad, plans to show her that love and chivalry are alive and well.
If...she’ll let him.
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1
“Why did I open my big mouth?” My head drops to my folded arms on the mahogany bar, agony coiling through my veins.
I stare at the fine grains of the wood contemplating the night ahead. My daughters, Yuki, and Jazz have arranged a full-blown night of speed dating. Just for me.
Yippee. This requires lots and lots of wine. “Ben, refill please.”
He chuckles, and I dare not look up. This is my fault. I agreed to the Smith Pact, and I’m a woman of my word. But how will I survive a full night of schmoozing with random men?
“Momma, stop sulking," Yuki says rubbing my back.
“No. I don’t want to,” I whine looking up into her beautiful eyes. “And don’t you dare laugh at your mother.”
“Stop it! This was your idea.” Her manicured finger points in my direction. “And I flew to Ireland, the least you can do is talk with a few guys.” She sat on the plush bar stool next to me, taking a sip of my fresh glass of wine.
“I was helping you.”
“And now I’m returning the favor.” So bullheaded.
“Let me have it.” Yuki pulls out her iPad, and I swear there’s a spreadsheet. “Yuki Smith—”
“—soon to be Yuki Jameson.”
“Not until you say ‘I Do.’” I rub my throbbing temples, this is getting worse by the minute. “How many men are we expecting?”
“Just twenty.”
“Twenty!” I squeal, my fingers are tingling to wrap around her dainty neck and wring her like a plump chicken.
“What’s with the shouting?” Jazz wraps a supportive arm around my shoulder and kisses my cheek.
“Your sweet sister-in-law has twenty dates scheduled for tonight.” I grate through my clenched teeth.
“I know. Isn’t it awesome!” I roll my head to face my daughter-in-law, and she slowly backs away taking the seat to my left.
“Momma, think of it this way,” Jazz adds, “you can just knock them all out in one night. Boom, boom, boom.” Her bouncing finger and apparent glee are worse than Yuki’s spreadsheet. Jazz is our family romantic. I’m doomed.
“We have it all set up,” Yuki says.
I take a drink of my wine. My girls worked together to make this happen, and I’ll suck it up and find a way to enjoy it.
“Okay, you two. Tell me how this all works.”
Jazz claps, bouncing up and down in her chair. “We’ll show you to your table.” She passes me a little pamphlet.
“You guys made a pamphlet.” I take several deep breaths, the grim reaper might as well take me now.
“Of course,” Yuki chimes in, “we are thinking of making this a regular event…”
“…catering to young, single professionals in Austin.” Jazz is showing all of her pearly white teeth.
“We’re thinking of hosting it monthly.” They nod in agreement.
They’re even finishing each other’s sentences. I stare at the front entrance wondering if I can run past my matchmakers and never look back. I catch Asher’s attention, and my heart screams Heeeelllllp meeeee!
Asher doesn’t hesitate, strolling across the room as the sea of people part. He is by far my greatest accomplishment in life. He and Yuki both have made my life special. I’m blessed that God picked me to mother them. But they are grown now with lives of their own, and I’m left trying to find a life of my own.
“Give us a second ladies.” Asher takes Jazz’s seat.
“Ash—”
“Yuki, five minutes. Check on the appetizers, and she’ll be all yours.” Even Ben slides to the other end of the bar. Asher leans in, “You don’t have to do this Momma. They’ll understand.”
“I know. But I promised.” I collapse into his arms and shake my shoulders in an exaggerated display.
“We are not kids anymore.” He chuckles at my theatrics.
I created the Smith Pact when they were kids. It was our form of a sealed deal. The Smith Pact is written in stone. I managed to get them from grade school through college based on one of our pacts.
It’s how I taught my son to stand behind his word as a man, and my daughter to stand behind her word as a woman. And you can bet your life on one of our pacts. Asher nor Yuki will fail to deliver. It is how they ended up with this place.
I sit up glancing around the room. It is a two-story warehouse style establishment. Smith & Jameson is owned by Asher and his wife Jazz, and Yuki and her fiancé Dylan equally. It is an urban international beer garden with ten food truck vendors outside the doors serving authentic ethnic cuisine. They are in the warehouse district and a mere ten minutes from Sixth Street.
“I’m so proud of you.” I cup the side of his handsome face.
“Thank you, Momma.” He folds my hand into his and kisses the back. “And don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it.” We struggled many nights the two of us looking out for each other. Then our family of two became three with Yuki. They’ve both managed to find something they love. And it’s time I do the same. “Tell me what you really think about this whole speed dating idea.”
Asher chuckles and leans back against the bar. “I’m staying out of it. I said my peace to Jazz and Yuki.”
“And that was?” I look up into hazel eyes mirroring my own.
“Don’t make me kill a dude over my momma.” His vibrant laughter forced me to join in, and I can’t recall a time he laughed so openly and freely. Not until he met Jazz. Love has softened his hard edge.
“Oh, brother.” I shake my head, as an odd feeling of being watched washes over me. I glance left and right, and I see him. Jaxon Reinheart. We met months ago but haven’t talked much. His green eyes blaze into me and I think I’m having a personal summer. I smile, politely as he tips a mug in my direction. “I’m a grown woman. I can handle myself.”
“As the man of the Smith tribe, I stand behind my words. I’ll shut it all down over you. And they know it.”
“Thank you, son. You really know how to make your mom feel better.” I shake my head. He’ll always be my baby.
“Momma,” I glance up hearing the shift in his voice, not much louder than a whisper. “What I want most is for you to find the love you deserve.”
“I know baby. I’m not crazy enough to believe in happily-ever-afters, not at my age. Forever is too much to ask. I just want someone I can pass the time with. Go on dates. Maybe dancing.”
“Dancing? You.” He folds over laughing.
“Boy don’t make me take you over my knee.”
He rocked back and forth. His laughter carries over the music, and I chance a glance at Jaxon. Curiosity coats his handsome face. I elbow my rambunctious son. There is no way I can get his six-foot-plus self over my knee.
“Hush!” I swat at him. He knows better than anyone that I can’t dance. Not a lick. But I still like the idea of it. A man picking me up and dancing the night away. I brush away my fairytale. “I’m so glad you and Jazz are doing better.”
“Me too. I can’t recall ever feeling more complete. My business is thriving. My wife is happy.” He sobered, the twinkle remains in his eyes. “And now, I want the same for you.”
I look down at our hands. “I guess I have twenty dates to prepare for.”
“Twenty?!”
“Jazz and I will be here with you," Yuki assures me as we enter one of the private rooms in the back of S&J. They have several tables set up. “You’ll sit here.” She stopped in front of a table adorned with a small bouquet
of flowers. The lights are dim and soft jazz plays in the air.
“You’ll have four minutes with each gentleman.” Jazz says passing me a pamphlet and pen. “We’ll give you a few minutes between each one to jot down notes, your impressions, etcetera.”
“Where did you find these men, with such short notice?” I ask examining the pamphlet with the S&J logo on the front cover. They have gone all out.
“We each made a few suggestions. Then we reached out to a few of your friends.” Yuki pushes a stray curl behind her ear and glances back at her iPad. “Miss Mae and Miss Erica helped us round out our list of candidates.”
Mae and Erica sure can keep a secret because I knew nothing about this date until Jazz called me earlier asking me to dress nice for our meeting. “And here I was thinking we were going dress shopping.”
“We will Momma after we find you a date.”
“A date for what? You still haven’t set a date for the wedding.” Yuki and Dylan have been engaged for almost a year. I walk over to my assigned table and hang my purse over the back of the chair. I glance up to see Yuki’s eyes flickering, and I canvas my brain for what I said.
“I’ll make you a deal.” She taps her chin with the pen stepping closer. I look to Jazz hoping she’ll help me out. But her eyes are focused on Yuki. “I’ll set a date when you get a boyfriend.”
“I am too grown for a boyfriend.”
“Momma you're 44, not 104. You act like you’re old or something.” Yuki is in full titan mode. She knows how to bend the wills of us mere mortals to fit her every desire. Just ask Dylan.
“I am not old, but well seasoned, thank you very much.” I lower into the chair. I’m in charge of this show. “And I’m a woman with four grown babies, and I’ve earned every year.”
“You started young.” Yuki counters, “Besides, you adopted me, and Jazz and Dylan are bonuses.”
“Instead of finding me a boy…friend,” it feels foreign on my tongue, “why don’t we focus on grandbabies?” Their collective groans filled the room. “So you hurry and give my son a baby,” I point at Jazz, “and Yuki stop dragging your feet and marry Dylan. Case closed.”
“You find a man and I’ll set a date.” Yuki stepped to the table with her iPad cradle in her arms. “Deal?”
I know a challenge when I see it. The word "deal" hangs over me like a shining star pointing to my true north. And I’m not jumping at the bait. This is already so out of my comfort zone I’m sweating bullets.
“I think we should update the pact.” Jazz adds, shoulder to shoulder with Yuki.
“I think you’re right sister.” Yuki declares sharing a nod, and I’m double-dog-doomed.
“Asher! Dylan!” I call. But the music is too loud, and I know they can’t stop this train.
“Oh no, Momma, this is a revised, 2.0 version of the Smith Pact with the Smith women. Are you in or out?” She thrusts a pen in my direction, and I’m trapped. Trapped by my own clever tactic.
“I don’t appreciate y’all ganging up on me.” I glance at the pamphlet crushed in my sweaty hand. “Besides, there is no guarantee that this will work.”
“I want you to truly try Momma. We said we’d open our hearts to love. We’ve all done it. I went to Ireland and Jazz went to Cancun. Now it’s your turn.”
“Oh hell, give me that damn pen.”
2
I’m seven men in this speed dating process, and I lost hope about six men ago. I jot down a few notes about the last loser…no Rhonda, that’s not kind. He’s not my type.
I hear the wooden chair drag across the hardwood floor signaling number eight of five thousand. I scratch it out the former with a clean line in my pamphlet and write the latter with a smile. “Hi, my name Rhon—”
I glance up and see his beautiful green eyes. “Jaxon.” The pen drops and the breathy sound of my voice is pretty close to pitiful. But his presence is how I imagine cool spring water on a hot summer day would feel, refreshing.
“Hello, gorgeous.” He slips past the next man in line, sitting in the seat across from me like he belongs here.
“Excuse me, my man.”
Jaxon glances up at him, jaw clenched, and the two communicated without words.
“Sir, come this way.” Yuki ushers the man to her table. Her eyes filled with curiosity and a mischief twinkle.
A burning sensation tingles my cheeks. I can’t be blushing. I look up fully aware of how close we are to one another.
“Is this all as gruesome as it seems?” Jaxon flicks a hand at the whole show of it all.
“Unfortunately, yes.” I exhale. He leans into the table, I push my dating notes aside and do the same. The smell of his cologne makes me want to lean closer.
“Three minutes.” Yuki, the drill sergeant, calls out with her gaze focused on Jaxon.
“You better get to talking.” His eyes sweep across my face, and I feel like a different version of myself. My seventeen before kids, youthful…hopeful self.
“First this.” I noticed a glass of wine in his hand.
“Thank you.” I take a sip, and it’s my favorite. “How did you—”
“Ben.”
I nod. And relax, feeling comfortable for the first time tonight.
“Tell me about yourself," I say getting my first real look at him up close since our first brief meeting months ago. His green eyes are piercing, and sandy blonde hair gives him a youthful appeal. He’s wearing a suit and tie. Much too dressed up for the ordinary Austin evening happy hour. I comb my mind, and for most of our encounters, he dressed the same.
“I’d rather hear about you.” His finger lightly taps the table.
“That’s a first for tonight.” I throw in as desire bubbles to the surface. There is something about the way his eyes dance under the overhead lights.
“Lucky me.” His tongue sweeps his bottom lips and transitions to a confident smile. It’s damn near erotic, and the urge to taste it sweeps through me. My heart twists in my chest.
“Is that so?” I play along. “What would you like to know?”
“Start as far back as you can remember.” He shifts and our legs brush beneath the roundtable.
I choke on my wine. Jaxon quickly stands reaching for a napkin. Then I feel his hand patting my back. His heat penetrating through my blouse and I can’t stop my heart from leaping into my throat. It's lodged and the choking mixes with the fire pulsing through my veins.
“Breath.” He whispers, his face is so close I can see his dilated pupils.
“Not with you so close," I whisper back. His head falls back, and the strong manly sound makes the fire turn to straight lava. There is no way I’ll complete a coherent conversation with him touching me.
“I’m okay," I assure him leaning forward trying to brush him away with a roll of my shoulder.
“Are you sure?” His teasing eyes say he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“You sly dog you.” And we laugh as he returns to his seat.
“One minute," Yuki shouts.
“Take this down.” Jaxon sits, pulling the chair closer than before. He lifts the pen and thrusts it in my direction. I take it transfixed by this entire situation. He opens my pamphlet, using his large hand to hold it open. “202…”
He rattles off his cellphone number and walks away.
“Damn.” My eyes are glued to his back as he strolls out of the room. I want him to look back, to see his piercing eyes again. That man has enough swagger for ten men. “Alright Jaxon, I see you.”
Hours later I fall back on my couch exhausted and aroused by Jaxon Reinheart. He managed to turn our night of dating into the Jaxon Show. He popped in after every couple of men. By the time the evening came to the close I was eagerly awaiting his next pop up.
Yuki and Jazz were a mix between intrigued and smitten as they let him have his way. I shake my head. We talked for four minutes here and four minutes there.
I close my eyes trying to piece together our conversations like a jigsaw puzzle.
He is thirty-six, not as young as my son but close enough to make me earmark that one. He works in renewable energy and is in Austin for the summer as a consultant with the University of Texas overseeing a consortium.
I kick off my heels rubbing my tired feet. It’s close to eight, and I hear the ring of my phone. I stretch reaching for my purse strap and drag out my cellphone.
“Hey, Mae!” I’m tired and plan to cut this call short.
“Hey yourself Miss Thang! How’d the night go?”
“I am not talking to you, or Yuki, or Jazz.” I rattle off the list knowing its a lie. But someone must pay for the torture I endured.
“Your girls are just trying to get you back on the bike.”
“The bike?” I open my eyes and my stomach growls. I couldn’t eat and talk, and now I’m starving.
“Yeah, they want to get you back in the groove of dating. Back on the bike.” She said it like her explanation made sense. I shake my head. “How’d it go? Because I might be their next test subject.”
“Girl you can have it. I had twenty dates in less than two hours.” And Jaxon’s face fluttered in my head like a hologram. “Actually, twenty-one.”
“Tell me about number twenty one. You sound all Hollywood and stuff. Breathy. Damsel in distress.”
“Hush.” We laugh. I’m not ready to talk about Jaxon. I’m still trying to figure him out.
“Earth to Rhonda.”
“Sorry.” I rub my tired eyes. “What did you say?”
“Tell me about him.”
“Nothing to tell.” I know a few facts about him. But my body’s response to him is unlike any I’ve ever had. Not even my deceased husband kindled the raw feelings of desire I felt in the thirty minutes of talking to Jaxon.
“I’ve known you longer than most. So, when you get out of your head, call me, day or night. Because according to the girls—”
“What did they say?!” I sit up, my heart racing just thinking about him.
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