Adventures in Online Dating

by Julie Particka

  When he dipped closer to her ear, as if to speak, she turned toward him, only to stop as his lips pressed against the pulse in her neck. God, it felt so good. Too good.

  Alarm bells started ringing.

  No. This wasn’t good. This was bad. So bad it felt good. So bad—

  Alexa woke fully and slapped the alarm off, her heart thudding as her pulse pounded hotly in places far removed from her rib cage. She’d dreamed about Marshall, and not in the I’d-like-a-jumbo-latte kind of way.

  This had to be bad. She’d read once that something like 80 percent of women had sex dreams, so she wasn’t unusual in that regard—even though this hadn’t quite gotten to sex. The bigger concern was the article had implied that sex dreams were almost inevitably a sign of attraction, and she most definitely was not supposed to be attracted to Marshall.

  She dove into the shower, determined to wash the lingering remnants of the dream away, and she even managed to get through her morning routine with the boys without giving it another thought. Partially because Brendan had a last-minute rush correction on a project that Beau had messed with. It was repaired just in the nick of time to get him to school. Things ran like clockwork in her home, no matter what went wrong, just as she’d always intended.

  But after dropping the boys off, she was faced with her computer and work. Four hours of crunching numbers and sending emails in order to keep up with her day job—thank goodness for being a contractor and able to set her own hours. Then she’d head to the Bean Counter for day four of her dates—under the watchful gaze of the man she’d almost kissed in her sleep. Which meant no matter how many accounts she had to keep tabs on this morning, she couldn’t focus on anything other than the dream. Why him? Why now?

  Alexa grabbed her phone and punched up her most frequently dialed number. “I need you.”

  “I love you, but I don’t swing that way. Wish I did—double the dating options.”

  “Damn it, Peyton, this is serious.”

  “Come over. But don’t ring the bell, my precious bundle of screaming fury just went down for a nap.”

  “On my way.” The most wonderful part about having a best friend who lived in her neighborhood was the ability to walk over. There had been days where Peyton had shown up wearing her pajamas and begging for the spare key because she’d locked herself out. Alexa had a key at Peyton’s, too, but that was more for the boys than for her. In less than five minutes, she twisted the knob and pushed her friend’s door open gently, stopping before it hit the squeaky spot. If she were careful, she’d be able to squeeze through and the noise wouldn’t wake Kara.

  As she stepped inside, however, she was confronted with something much louder—something that sounded like heavy metal being played on strings. Bypassing the stairs and the music, she made her way to a kitchen that looked as if a bomb had gone off—if said bomb consisted of Cheerios and applesauce. “What happened?”

  “Are you really going to ask me that?” Peyton said as she wiped down the window. “She didn’t want her breakfast. Upside? She wanted a nap.”

  “And the music?”

  Peyton shrugged, taking a new wipe to the wall. “Discovered it in the car yesterday when I accidentally switched from Baby Mozart to Apocalyptica. She was out like a light. Hoping to utilize this information from now until college.”

  “That’s…unusual,” Alexa said as she checked one of the kitchen chairs for food before sitting. Sure, kids occasionally preferred less conventional musical stylings, but wasn’t that normally when they were older? Past the diaper stage? Alexa was going to have to look up some data.

  “Enough about my kid. What’s going on with you?” Peyton left the Cheerios on the floor. Their yellow Lab, Hoover, was already sucking them up anyway, while the German Shepherd, Speedbump, watched from his lounging spot by the sliding door.

  There was no delicate way to put this, and who knew how long they had until Kara woke up. “I had a sexy dream last night.”

  “Sexy or sex?” Peyton sat down and leaned forward as if this were the best news she’d heard in months.

  “Sexy that would have maybe led to sex if my alarm hadn’t gone off and saved me.”

  Peyton blinked at her as if she’d lost her damn mind. “Saved you? From sex? Were you about to fuck that troll of a senator?”

  “No. Potentially worse—Marshall.”

  This time, the blink was slower than the movement of glaciers pre-climate change. “On what planet is getting fucked by the hottie who fuels your coffee habit worse than getting fucked by Senator Jowly McPastyface? I mean, that man looks like he died two terms ago and only breathes because he made a deal with a demon.”

  “Worse, because I have to face Marshall regularly. Worse, because every time I look at him, I’m going to feel him pressed against me. Worse, because Marshall is just as much of a no as the senator, though for totally different reasons.” Even talking about it, she could feel the ghost of Marshall’s lips against her skin, right on the pulse in her neck, and it had her warming in ways she really shouldn’t.

  “And why is that again?”

  “Because I can’t safely open my mouth around him, and quite frankly, he’s too damn young.”

  “Thirty-two is too young? I’m only thirty-five, Alex.”

  “Maybe, but you’re far more mature than him.”

  “Am I, though? He owns his own business—which you love and frequent—while I run a blog.”

  “And he wears those ridiculous purple shoes and the kind of T-shirts I buy my kids. He just doesn’t act like an adult or even seem to want to. It isn’t the number, it’s the attitude and lifestyle that make him too young.” How could Peyton not see the difference? “Not to mention, I think he tried to game my pre-date screening system.”

  Peyton’s laugh was so long and loud, Alexa was sure Kara would wake up screaming any second. “Marshall? Marshall gamed your system?”

  The way she said it made it seem impossible, but Alexa had the numbers to back her up. “He did my Q and A and scored well within my datable range.” If he gamed the system, how many other men had? Did she have enough information in her profile for strangers to figure out the right things to say? Did she need to change up the questions somehow? Narrow the window of acceptability? Remove all other information from her profile other than the explanation and questions? Or maybe only explain the twenty-minute dates and send the questions to every man who messaged? That would mean more time online—which would cut into the hour or two she had left in a given day—but it might be worth it as a means of ending this experiment more quickly.

  Peyton huffed out a sigh and slapped the table. “And that score only proves I was right all along. No matter what you think, he’s the one. So would you please just fuck the steaming coffee guy already? You want to. No matter how much you deny it, I’ve seen it in your eyes when we’re at the Bean Counter. It’s probably a big part of the reason your mouth engages before your brain so often when you’re around him. You tell yourself no because you don’t think you should, but you want to.”

  “No, I don’t!” Alexa jerked upright, her spine pressed against the back of the chair as if she could somehow escape Peyton’s words if only the stupid piece of furniture wasn’t in her way. But her friend had a point about the idiocy that escaped her lips. What if—

  “Yes, you do, but how about we don’t talk about him? You had six dates yesterday. How did those go?” Peyton’s brow shot up under her bangs and disappeared.

  While she welcomed the change in subject from Marshall, this one wasn’t much better. “Five dates. One no-show. And they ranged from uninspiring to hellishly boring.”

  After listening as Alexa elaborated on the hellish end of things, Peyton tapped the table with one chipped fingernail. “And boring? I love you, Alex, but please don’t make me point out that your idea of a good time occasionally involves unfolding and re-matching all of your boys’ socks.”

  It was a common point of contention between them. Peyt
on insisted she’d never find someone who made her happy if she didn’t loosen up a tiny bit. Alexa politely reminded her that running a tight ship required that things be…tight. She’d done the whole live-life-by-the-seat-of-your-pants thing with Christian, and he’d up and left her without any sort of plan for moving forward. She needed her plans—it was how she’d survived the past five years. “And your point?”

  “That you have a hot guy in front of you that you’ve declared off-limits—one who seems totally into you, too, I might add. Meanwhile, every guy you meet is going to be compared to him, especially since he’ll be right there the whole time.” She paused long enough for the logic of her statement to sink in. “So, even if you don’t want to date him—which I totally think you should—allow yourself a wild night of sex with Marshall. He doesn’t have to be forever, Alex, but if you’re dreaming about him, you’re at the very least curious. Get in there and get your younger man fantasy out of the way so you can move on to something more in line with what you want.”

  No. There was no way she was sleeping with Marshall. Doing it once would make going into the Bean Counter awkward. Doing it and then trying to date other men there? It was the most absurd suggestion Peyton had ever made. She’d simply have to find some other way to get the idea of him out of her system—like finding an awesome match later today.

  That would do it.

  …

  Four days of this nonsense, and Marshall wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Every day, Alexa came in, took her jumbo coffee and muffin, sat at her table, and entertained the stream of men. There had been at least one no-show every single day. How stupid did a guy have to be to get a chance with someone who looked like her and not bother even showing up? And there’d been two of them today.

  Of course, the fact that she kept at it for four days meant she obviously hadn’t found what she was looking for, which seemed crazy considering how basic her questions had been on Monday. With her two-thirty slot empty, she could have gone home, but she lingered at the table and picked at a second muffin. She’d come up on her own and bought it when she realized she’d been stood up again.

  Marshall had offered to comp it, but she insisted on paying to make up for the decreased spending today. Because of a couple of inconsiderate assholes. But he knew if he pressed the point, she’d be insulted. They had an arrangement, and she was clearly determined to stick to it no matter what.

  Of course, Chastity seemed to get the vibe he was putting off, and his second most regular customer slipped him her number…again.

  Marshall smiled at her, but any attraction he’d previously felt to the leggy blonde had diminished. There was sexy and seductive, and then there were women like Chastity, who shoved themselves at men. Sure, he could have fun with her, but there wouldn’t be more to it than that, not really. And he’d reached a point where the one thing he wanted was real.

  That was one of the things that probably drew him to Alexa. Whether or not he understood her dating game, he respected how up-front and businesslike she was about it. There were no illusions or euphemisms. She didn’t promise or imply anything more than the twenty minutes.

  But it seemed this last date not showing had her in a mood, because now she sat, stabbing her tablet like it had personally offended her. Not work—he’d never seen that get her grumpy about her job.

  He had a few minutes before the high school rush hit, so he grabbed a coffee and sat down across from her. “So…what’s doing?”

  “Nothing.” She barely glanced at him as she continued typing.

  Time for a new tack. “Houston, we have a problem.” She finally looked his way, scowling. “You’re trying to destroy your tablet with a fingernail, and you don’t think that’s a problem?”

  “I’m not destroying anything. I have a spreadsheet that I fill in after the coffee dates. It helps me keep everyone clear in my head later.”

  Ah. That made sense, and it was definitely something she’d do. “That way you know who to call to go out over the weekend?”

  She gave a snort of derision and shook her head. “I’ll be staying in with the boys this weekend, and every weekend for the foreseeable future.”

  Okay, other than the no-shows and the couple of assholes the first two days, the guys hadn’t seemed that bad. And while he wasn’t proud to admit to eavesdropping, she was sitting right up front and didn’t put forth much effort to keeping her conversations quiet. What was he missing? “Can I see it?”

  “The spreadsheet?” At his nod, she shrugged and flipped the tablet toward him. As soon as it was out of her hands, she started picking at the muffin again, pulling out chocolate chips and eating them separately.

  The debate of whether or not to comment on her eating habits ended the instant he looked at the screen in front of him. Every single man on her list had an X in the no column. He could feel frown lines carving themselves deeper and deeper on his face as he scanned her notes. “Are you dating, or hiring someone to represent you in court?”

  “Very funny.” Considering she wasn’t laughing, yet another of his jokes had failed to hit the mark. “I like to make sure I’m not missing anything.”

  “Okay, but…” He read through her notes on her two o’clock. “You said no to Rob. The guy has a steady job, makes good money, walks dogs for the Humane Society during his lunch hour, and has a solid relationship with his family.”

  “Too solid. I’m looking for someone who will fit with me and my kids, not try to force us into whatever situation he’s already developed.” She shoved a big bite of muffin in her mouth as if her statement were the end-all, be-all of the conversation.

  “So you’re looking for a guy—in his forties—who has a great job but no connection to basically anything, so that you and your kids can slide nicely into the family-size hole in his life? Do you realize how insane that sounds?” No wonder he didn’t stand a chance. No one really did with guidelines like that.

  “Only when you put it like that. I was trying to simplify my reasons for saying no to Rob. But there were several incompatibilities.”

  “Yeah. I got that from the notes.” He scanned further back. Yesterday’s first date had been Drew. “What about Drew? He ticks off the job and charity boxes, always wanted kids but never met the right woman, parents retired in Florida and he sees them once a year. Full head of hair, and I almost saw you laughing when you talked to him. Why is he a no?”

  Alexa huffed out a breath filled with the air of exasperation. “He was fine. We would get along well, but there was something missing. The entire point of doing things this way is to find the right man, not just any man.”

  “Okay. I get that, but I thought the twenty-minute dates were so you could figure out who was worth seeing for a real date, not for deciding immediately on a life partner.” Shit. Five minutes to three. Time to wrap up this conversation and get ready to sling coffee for teenagers.

  Taking her tablet back, Alexa frowned at him. “I don’t want to waste time with someone who isn’t right. The twenty minutes is to see if someone feels right. So far no one has.” She shoved her things in her purse. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  Ouch. There it was again—and just in time to get back to work. “Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I worry you’re shutting the door before even looking outside to see where it leads.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Hell if he knew—it just came out, probably much like her comment about not understanding. But it sounded smart and felt right, so he ran with it. “The problem isn’t you saying no to all those guys. Not really. But you seem to have this crazy need for everything in life to fit perfectly into your grand plan. That isn’t how reality tends to work.” Real life moved in strange circles, like the one that had brought him around to opening the Bean Counter. “The best things in life happen when you aren’t looking.”

  Grabbing her bag, Alexa stood. “I appreciate the advice. I do. But in my experience, if you aren’t look
ing and planning…not much of anything happens.”

  “Then how about this for a plan? Three to four in the afternoon, I get a stupid rush of teenagers in here, and it’s a madhouse. How about I comp your food and the use of the table for the day in exchange for you throwing me an assist behind the counter?”

  “I don’t have an extra hour to give up—and that’s right when my kids get home.”

  He shrugged that off because he knew damn well she’d lingered before, not to mention why. She was making excuses. “Then shorten your dating time to two hours. It’s not like there is an unending supply of men. And if you make better choices, you won’t be working for me for long. Plus, you mentioned before that all the boys have extracurriculars midweek. So your kids only get home around three on Mondays and Fridays.”

  “Wow, you really have paid attention, haven’t you? And when you put it like that, how can I say no?” She shook her head and grabbed her purse, but her gaze lingered on the counter in a way that seemed curious at the very least. “Except maybe…no. See you tomorrow, Marshall.”

  Then she was gone, and he was left facing a rush of kids. Then again, judging by the fact that people his age were walking in with them, his biggest fans might have converted a few of their teachers to the Bean Counter lifestyle. And all while he wasn’t looking.

  If only Alexa noticed that sort of thing, maybe she’d understand that taking life as it came had its advantages.

  Chapter Five

  She’d managed the rest of the week without dreaming about Marshall again, but damn if his words Thursday afternoon hadn’t stuck with her overnight. No sex dreams that night, but not a lot of sleep, either. The worst part was she understood what he was saying about life happening when you least expected it. Hell, she’d even believed that to a degree when she was his age.