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“What does that mean exactly?” I ask, my voice tight.
“It means you’re the type of girl a man marries and takes home to his parents,” he responds.
I drop my fork down a little too loudly. “Does that mean Faith’s not?” I ask because, really, it’s getting kind of ridiculous. I like Faith. We’re good friends. She’s my best friend, really. I mean, I’m not the kind of girl to talk with others a lot, but when I do, it’s always Faith.
“My parents would have a cow if I brought home a woman with loose morals, Jodie,” he laughs. I reach over and take a drink of my wine, my hand tight on the stem.
“Faith doesn’t have loose morals, Deke. She works two jobs and shows up to all of her son’s activities. She’s a good mother and she goes to church every Sunday on top of that. I don’t think you can say she has loose morals,” I snap.
“Calm down, Jodie. I don’t want to make a scene. I realize you and Faith are friends. I’m sure she’s perfectly nice.”
“She is.”
“But she’s not someone I would want in my life long term,” he says.
“I don’t know why not. I think any man would be lucky to have Faith—especially you,” I mumble.
“You’re what I want. You might get a little over emotional—”
“I…” I stop talking because I don’t know what to say.
“But I can deal with that,” he quickly adds, and I feel like my eyes might pop out of my head.
“Well, thank goodness for that,” I respond sarcastically.
“You’ll find that I’m a very easy, forgiving person, Jodie,” he says, and there’s so much I could say in response, but he doesn’t really give me a chance. “I knew right away that you were exactly the woman I wanted for my future.”
Evidently, Deputy Deke sucks with small talk on a first date.
“How did you know that?” I ask, not in the least bit curious because now I already know he will probably just piss me off. How could I ever think he was a good guy? He could make Lincoln Locke look like a great guy at this point.
“Because you’re a good girl,” he repeats.
My brow furrows and I do my best to try and not completely lose it. I mostly fail.
“What makes me a good girl?” I ask, my voice strained and quiet, because right now it’s hard to talk over all the berating words I’d like to shout at him from the rooftops.
“Well, for one, you don’t sleep around.”
“I… How would you know that?”
“Jodie, Cherry Falls is a small town, even if we are a tourist trap. People talk. It’s widely known that you’re a virgin.”
I blink.
“You discussed my virginity with the whole damn town!?!” I screech, forgetting we’re in the middle of the Fireside Bar and Grill with most of the residents of Cherry Falls around us. Well, okay, not most—but a damn good portion.
“Jodie, keep your voice down,” Deke says, chastising me like he would a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. “You’re attracting attention.”
“Ask me if I give a damn, Deke!”
“Jodie—”
“Are you sitting there and telling me that you’ve discussed my sexual activity with people in town?”
“No,” he says at once, but before I can catch a breath of relief—he ruins it. “The guys at work were talking about it.”
“The guys…”
“Jodie—”
“You talked with the men I work with about me being sexually active?” I ask, choking on the words, unable to believe that I’m even having this conversation.
“Your lack of activity, really. I don’t know why you’re upset. Everyone thinks highly of you. It’s just another reason I knew you would be the perfect girlfriend.”
“You don’t know why I’m upset,” I whisper, unable to wrap my mind around this entire conversation.
“Exactly,” he breathes. “Now sit down before you draw any more attention to us.”
Until he mentioned it, I didn’t realize I was even standing. Then again, I’m so upset that I can barely catch my breath. “You don’t know why I’m upset?!?!” I shout as if he hadn’t spoken.
“Jodie—”
“Don’t you Jodie me! You discussed my lack of sex life with men I work with to find out if I made good material for a wife?!!?”
“Well, obviously, that didn’t work out. You’re drawing attention to us, Jodie. You need to sit down now,” he says, looking around self-consciously.
“You pompous asshole!” I growl and then I take my wine and throw it in his face. “I’m not marriage material for you.”
“That much we can agree on,” he mutters, taking his napkin and wiping his face off.
“You’re damn straight we can agree on it. I’ll tell you what else, Deke Littleton, if you so much as breathe near me ever again, you’ll be sorry.” I start to walk—stomp—away when Deke makes things worse.
“That won’t be an issue. You’re way too emotional.”
