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“Don’t say it like that.”
“So you haven’t slept with her yet?”
“No, I haven’t slept with my kid’s best friend’s mom.” He glares at me.
“She wants to sleep with you.”
“I told you. She just thinks I’m inept and wants to make sure Gin’s getting home-cooked food.”
“Which is why she cooks for you on nights when she takes Gin.” I raise a brow at him.
“It’s not like that.”
“It’s absolutely like that.”
“You’re making it weird.”
“She’s pretty. She cooks for you. She cares about Gin. She’s obviously dying to get you to see her. What’s the problem? Seems like a good setup.”
“She’s not my type.”
“I didn’t think you had a type. Or at least you didn’t in college.” I bump his hip with mine as I go to put the queso on the stove.
“College was a long time ago.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“You brought it up.”
“I think you should reconsider this type thing is all. She’s pretty. Has her shit together it looks like. Brings you home-cooked meals. The girls would probably die if they got to be sisters.”
“Sisters?” He chokes on the last sip. “You’re way fucking ahead of yourself.”
“You just mentioned how old we’re getting. You can’t wait forever to find true love, Gabriel. I hate to tell you but once you’re done in the pros, there won’t be an endless line of models and cheerleaders.”
CHAPTERFOUR
Gabe
Little does she fucking know there isn’t one now. I’d kill for one in this moment. Shit, I might even rethink the Ms. Stuart thing if it would get my mind off the long legs that are currently in my kitchen. I should have told her to stay at a hotel. Should have turned her away the second she showed up here and told her to go back and marry him.
But that’s the problem. I’m always secretly fucking giddy when she shows up at my door and tells me she can’t go through with it. That I’m the one she runs to. Like a sick fucking bastard only too happy to celebrate some other man’s pain. Thinking that maybe this time is the time when something actually happens between us. Like it wouldn’t have a million times before if it was possible.
“That’s what the bar is for.”
“What?” She looks up at me.
“The bar. Endless single women drowning their sorrows in mixed drinks looking for a guy to sweep them off their feet for a night.”
“I thought the bar was to keep you busy and give Gin a legacy. You said someone was already interested in franchising it.”
“Yeah. But it has other benefits.” I grin and swallow the last of the margarita I poured, turning to mix us another batch. Might as well both drown our sorrows tonight.
“Awfully devious of you. Here I thought you were an upstanding gentleman in your community.”
“You just accused me of fucking a long line of models and cheerleaders.”
“Consensually I assume.”
