Sweet Sunshine

by Jessica Prince

  I flushed scarlet red as Carla slammed her water glass down on the table. When my wide, astonished eyes met his, he was smiling down at me, and I felt it all the way to my bones. I felt that unwanted flutter again, the same one I’d been feeling ever since he moved to town, and I had to shake my head to get rid of the daze a simple smile from Derrick put me in.

  Luckily, the waiter chose that very moment to place two baskets of warm, delicious smelling bread on the table. Without batting an eye, I grabbed one of the rolls and took a huge bite, facing Austin the whole time as I hummed in approval.

  “So good,” I groaned through a full mouth, just to rub it in. Screw him and his “useless calories.” I loved carbs and that was never changing. I owned a bakery for Christ’s sake.

  As Austin scowled, Derrick took a roll for himself and passed the basket to Carla. “Oh, no thank you,” she simpered. “I’ve cut all gluten from my diet.”

  “Of course you did,” I muttered quiet enough she couldn’t hear me.

  “I have to fit into a bridesmaid dress next month, and if I’m not careful, I’ll get a little pooch.” She leaned back in her chair and placed her palms on her flat stomach while poking her boobs out all at once as she looked at Derrick through her long, false eyelashes. I couldn’t hold my eye roll back that time.

  The conversation grew stilled and awkward as we each placed our orders, and it certainly didn’t help when the waiter asked if we’d be dividing the check and Austin nodded, waved his finger between us, and said, “The two of us are separate, thanks.”

  Just freaking wonderful, the guy had a short temper, didn’t bother making reservations, and wasn’t even planning on paying for the dinner he asked me to? I’d already decided there was no way in hell he and I were a love match, but did Karma really hate me so much that I had to not only suffer through a terrible date, but do it with Derrick and his Barbie doll in tow? I hated Karma. She could kiss my ass.

  I grabbed the waiter’s sleeve as he began to walk off and pulled him to me. “I’ll be needing wine. Lots and lots of wine. I don’t care what the hell it is, just make it red and make it fast.”

  “And put it on my check,” Derrick chimed in. “I’ll be paying for the ladies tonight.”

  My embarrassment officially knew no bounds.

  When our server came back with a glass of red wine, filled to the top, I made a mental note to double whatever Derrick tipped him. He was a good man.

  The only saving grace through dinner was the fact that I’d already managed to down a glass and a half of wine. The tightness in my shoulders had begun to melt away and I had that pleasant floaty feeling from the slight buzz.

  “So,” Carla gazed dreamily up at Derrick as she sipped her wine and pushed her side salad around with her fork. That’s right. She was one of those people. She ordered a freaking side salad for a meal and barely ate it. I, on the other hand, had already devoured my filet, and didn’t feel a bit bad about it. “That wedding next month I was telling you about? How’d you like to be my date?” She placed her fork down on the table and walked her fake nails up his arm. “I’d make it worth your while. I already have a room at the hotel. It’s supposed to have a Jacuzzi tub. It’s amazing what those jets can do.”

  Oh gag! I was pretty sure I threw up a little bit. I wanted to laugh as Derrick sputtered into his glass, thrown off. If I had to guess, it wasn’t the sexual innuendo that threw him for a loop, it was the suggestion of a wedding date. In all the time I’d been watching Derrick, I noticed one thing. He didn’t commit… ever. That much was obvious to every woman in Pembrooke.

  Granted, it still hadn’t done anything to lessen my crush on him, but it was the truth. Oh, he dated, a lot, but out of all the women he’d been seen around town with, none of them lasted more than three dates. And I was pretty certain he never went to weddings with any of them.

  “Uh…” he cleared his throat uncomfortable as I watched on with morbid curiosity. “I’m not sure that’s possible. I have my daughter every other weekend, so…” he trailed off. Then, poor Carla, said the absolute wrong thing.

  “Can’t you just switch weekends or something? Or maybe cancel just this one time? I mean, my family’s going to be there.”

  With that, I noticed that the tick had returned to Derrick’s jaw. “Yeah, because it’s as easy as switching shoes,” I muttered sarcastically behind my wineglass.

  “What was that?” Carla asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

  Maybe it was the wine giving me a false sense of courage, or maybe it was just the fact that I was so over feeling sorry for myself, or worrying about other peoples’ opinions, but whatever the case, I couldn’t tone down my disdain as I answered, “I’m sorry, you must not have heard me, what I said was you make it sound as easy as switching out shoes. That’s his daughter you’re talking about, not some inanimate object. And maybe it’s just me, but it seems a little presumptuous of you to suggest he switch weekends, or cancel all together, when you haven’t even gotten through your first date yet.” I let out a loud bark of laughter. “I mean, that really takes some brass ones. I’ve got to hand it to you,” I lifted my glass in her direction. “That’s some hardcore confidence you’ve got there, thinking you stand above a man’s own flesh and blood. Can’t be easy thinking that highly of yourself.”

  “No one asked you,” she spat back.

  “Oh, don’t get your hair extension in a twist,” I giggled at my own joke. Okay, so maybe I was a little more than buzzed after all. “I was just offering my opinion on the subject.”

  As I sucked down the last of the wine in my glass, she crossed her arms under her overinflated boobs, pushing them so high they were in danger of spilling out of her dress. “Well, no one here cares about your opinion.”

  “I do,” Derrick cut in his heated gaze on her, and not the good kind of heat.

  “Uh… am I missing something here?” Austin asked and I shushed him, waiving my hand in his face. Yep, I was definitely a little more than buzzed.

  “And for the record, I’d never re-schedule a weekend with my daughter unless it was for an unexpected emergency, and no way in hell would I ever cancel on her.”

  “But—”

  Derrick wasn’t finished. “And I’ll just say it now, so there aren’t any misunderstandings later. And be prepared, because this is going to make me sound like an asshole, but I’ve found that label is something I can live with if it means my point comes across clearly. I have no desire, whatsoever, to meet your family. Ever.”

  Oh, damn. That was so harsh even I cringed. I might have felt sorry for her, if she hadn’t been such a shrew, but you reap what you sow and all that jazz.

  I was contemplating just walking out on everyone at the table and catching an Uber home. The night couldn’t possible go any further downhill than it already had.

  Or at least I thought.

  “Hello, Derrick,” a feminine voice said from behind me. I looked back to see a woman who looked like she’d just walked off a runway standing behind me. Her red dress fit her lithe frame to perfection without showing off too much skin. Her blonde hair was so shiny it looked like gold, actual gold! She had perfect cheekbones, perfect posture, just… perfect freaking everything. But then I noticed her blue eyes, and whatever was lying behind them was something ugly. And they were currently pointed directly at Derrick. If I hadn’t thought the evening could grow any tenser, I’d been wrong. With her sudden appearance the air felt downright arctic.

  Then Derrick said her name, and I understood the sudden frostbite.

  “Layla.”

  Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just entered the seventh circle of hell.

  Derrick

  MY NIGHT COULDN’T have possibly gotten any fucking worse. First, there was the douchebag Chloe was on a date with. The asshole was hopped up on so many steroids his dick was probably Oompa-Loompa sized, I couldn’t even begin to wrap my brain around what the hell she’d been thinking.

  Then Carla had to go and drop
the wedding bomb. As if her being a grade-A bitch to Chloe wasn’t already enough to solidify her place on my never again list. I’d always been honest, most would say to a fault, but, despite what most people — women in particular — thought of me, I didn’t actually enjoy being a first-class dick. But sometimes it was necessary. Case in point, Carla.

  And the icing on the shit-filled sundae that was my night? My raging bitch of an ex-wife, standing less than two feet away from me.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I bit out between clenched teeth.

  She let out a condescending tsk. “Now, is that any way to speak to the mother of your daughter? Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

  My mouth opened, the bitter words I was dying to hurl at her ready to bounce right off my tongue when I suddenly felt something on my hand. Looking down, I saw Chloe’s small, delicate hand clutching mine in a tight grip. The words dried up in my mouth before they even made their way out.

  “Hi,” she said kindly, shocking the hell out of me by smiling politely up at Layla, aka, the fucking devil. “I’m Chloe, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Her hand not currently wrapped around mine reached out to Layla in a friendly attempt at a handshake. Layla glared at it as if it were diseased before her hateful stare landed on our touching hands. “Uh… well, I just have to tell you, you have an amazing daughter,” Chloe continued. I had to give her credit; she really was making the old college try. I wanted to tell her it was pointless, that Satan was incapable of accepting or giving kindness to anyone. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Eliza several times and she’s absolutely wonderful.”

  Layla’s lips curled derisively. “Chloe.” She sneered. “I know who you are.”

  “This will be my one and only warning,” I spoke in a low, threatening voice. “You will never speak to her like that again.” Both her and Chloe looked at me with equal expressions of “Holy shit, what’d he just say?”

  “Well isn’t that just lovely,” Layla sneered. “It’s bad enough you’re subjecting our daughter to your… women, but actually have the nerve to defend her to me? All I’ve heard about since you took her to that stupid carnival is how wonderful Chloe is!”

  The woman in question, the one Layla was talking about like she wasn’t even there, opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off, standing from my chair. “Maybe that’s because she finally realized what it was like to have a positive female role model in her life for once in nine goddamned years.” I stepped closer to her. “And you’re making me repeat myself, Layla. What the hell did I just say about how you talk about Chloe?”

  My ex-wife was never one to back down from a challenge so I wasn’t surprised when her eyes narrowed into furious slits as she seethed in a hushed voice. “I won’t allow you to try and play family with one of your whores around Eliza. You think you can try and replace me? I’m her mother.”

  “Excuse me!” Chloe snapped from her chair. “We’re not even together. I’m with this guy!” She threw her thumb over her shoulder to Austin who looked about two seconds away from fleeing the scene. “And he’s on a date with her!” One quick glance at Carla showed she wasn’t too far behind the roided out dick-head.

  “And maybe,” I continued, ignoring Chloe’s little outburst, “if you acted like a fucking mother once in your miserable life, Eliza wouldn’t be looking to someone else to fill that role.”

  “Uh… guys?” Carla spoke when neither of us did anything other than glare for several seconds. “People are starting to stare.”

  “If you think I’m going to let you parade your slut around Eliza, you’ve lost your damned mind,” Layla whispered harshly.

  “You know,” Chloe piped up after downing more of her wine. “I’m getting really sick of being called a whore and a slut. Like, for real.”

  “You’ve got no right telling me how to raise my daughter when she’s with me,” I ground out. “It’s Saturday night, Layla. It’s your goddamned weekend! Care to explain where my daughter is right now?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, her haughty expression pushing at every one of my buttons. “She’s with my sister. I’m enjoying a night out with friends. Despite what you think, I am allowed to have a life, you know.”

  I could feel the blood coursing through my veins beginning to boil. “Yeah, you can have a life. Every. Other. Fucking. Weekend. When Eliza’s in Pembrooke with me. When it’s your weekend, you spend time with her.”

  “You know,” she smirked, “It’s amazing that you think I have to listen to anything you have to say. I stopped having to listen to a word you said when I left your sorry ass.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” I chuckled sarcastically, “You know damned good and well I was the one that left your ass ‘cause I was sick and tired of fucking a dead, frigid fish every night.”

  She sucked in an outraged gasp. “You sorry son of a bitch!”

  Austin stood, reaching into his back pocket and throwing some bills on the table. “You know what, I think I’m gonna get out of here. I just remembered, I have a… thing…”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Chloe waved him off. “Run along. And while you’re at it, do me a huge favor and lose my phone number. M’kay? Thanks, bye.” Like the punk-ass he was, I saw Austin move away from the table out of the corner of my eye.

  “Excuse me,” the server interrupted, stopping next to my stand-off with Layla. “Is there a problem here?”

  Chloe answered before anyone else. “Nope, no problem. We’re actually ready for our check if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Oh!” she reached for the money on the table and handed the bills to the waiter. “And this is for the other gentleman’s check. You know, the one that kind of looked like a gorilla?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the server grinned.

  “If there’s any change left, feel free to keep it.

  “Thank you,” he tilted his chin up at Chloe before turning to Layla with a knowing expression. “Ma’am, may I help you back to your table?”

  She might have been a bitch, but Layla wasn’t stupid, she knew a dismissal when she saw one. I was leaving our server a fat tip; that was for damned sure. Not saying another word, Layla shot one last hideous look in my direction before stomping off to whatever gutter she’d drug herself from.

  As I turned back to the table, I noticed Chloe stand on wobbly legs. “Well,” she sighed heavily, obviously feeling the effects of her wine. “You two enjoy the rest of your night. Pretty sure I’m going to go home, climb in bed and pray that, when I wake up, this whole evening will have been nothing but a really bad nightmare.”

  “Whoa,” I clasped her arm as she tried to pass. “No way in hell you’re driving, sunshine.”

  “Pfft. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Yeah?” I found myself grinning for the first time since my succubus of an ex-wife walked to our table. “Tell that to the bottle of wine you downed. I’m taking you home.”

  The server reappeared with our check and I deftly slid my wallet from my back pocket, placing more bills than necessary in the small black folio, but the man deserved it. It was the least I could do.

  “But — my car…”

  “Carla can drive it back,” I answered deftly.

  “Uh, what?” I looked over to an incredulous Carla, no longer caring if she thought I was the world’s biggest asshole. There was no way I’d ever subject myself to a second date with that woman. Hell, I was already regretting agreeing to the first. “I had wine, too, you know.”

  “You had a glass,” I told her. “And you didn’t even finish it.”

  “But—but…” she sputtered, trying to come up with a solid argument, despite the fact it was pointless. My mind was made up. “Can’t she just take a cab or something? This is supposed to be our date!”

  “Yeah, it was. And now it’s over. Now, I can’t imagine you’re the type of person who’d actually put the wellbeing of someone else in jeopardy by, say, putting them in a
cab with a stranger when they’re highly intoxicated.” Yep, I wasn’t above guilt-tripping, not one damn bit.

  “I’m not that drunk,” Chloe argued, folding her arms over her chest and wrinkling her brow in an adorable pout.

  I ignored her. “And I certainly wouldn’t want to believe you’d rather Chloe get behind the wheel of a car after drinking when you could easily do her the kindness of driving her car home so I can put her in my truck and we all make it back to Pembrooke safely.” I squinted my eyes and tilted my head as I went in for the kill. “Or am I completely wrong about you?”

  “Fine,” she said through clenched teeth, throwing her napkin onto the table. “You know, this probably has to be the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

  “Hasn’t been a cakewalk for me either, sweetheart,” I deadpanned. Chloe let out a little hiccupping giggle and I knew she was drunk enough that she was going to be hurting come morning.

  I kept my arm firmly around Chloe’s waist as I guided her through the busy restaurant. Holding her body next to mine was the complete juxtaposition to how it felt when Carla clung to me on the way here. Carla was all sharp, narrow points, while Chloe was warm, lush curves that molded to me as we walked. I didn’t feel any bone when I placed my hand on her, just the smoothness of her waist dipping in before those intoxicating hips flared out. She had a woman’s body, through and through, and I wanted to kick myself for even noticing how good she felt against me.

  “Where’s your car, sunshine?” I whispered in her ear. Was I closer than I needed to be in order to speak to her? Hell yeah. But I seemed to have lost all control over my body when it came to her, and the way she shivered against me as I spoke had my arm hugging her even closer to my side. My pants had grown uncomfortably tight as my erection strained against the fabric. For Christ’s sake, I felt like a goddamned teenager unable to control his boner around the pretty girl. It was pathetic.