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Mary didn’t often manage to get under his skin, but annoyance shot through his veins right now.
“Jesus Christ, Mary. Why are you making it sound weird? It’sZoey.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How did I not know you two were spending so much time together? I know you text all the time, but...”
“Mary, stop. Zoey’s been our friend since grade school. It’s not the way you make it sound. We hang out in the shop while she works on repairs. We drink sometimes. And we talk.” He paused, a sinking feeling in his chest. “Wait...didZoeysay something?”
Had he been reading things all wrong? Was Zoey uncomfortable with his visits? Nah...she was direct enough that she’d have told him if she didn’t want him there.Wouldn’t she?
Mary studied him again for a moment before shaking her head. “She didn’t sound mad about it.” He took a drink order from his cousin Kelly, who was waiting tables tonight. Mary watched him pouring three glasses of Guinness, which took a little time to do properly. “You’ve really never thought about...?”
“Absolutely not.” He set the beers on a tray. That wasn’t true, of course. The thought had crossed his mind a lot lately. He just refused to let it linger.
Zoey was incredible. And available. But...she wasn’t at all like the other women he’d spent time with since Becca. They were casual. Zoey would be anythingbutcasual. She’d be very real, in the same way Becca had been for him. Their connection ran deep. Was his hesitance because he’d loved Becca so much? Was he afraid things might get too real with Zoey? Or even worse, that he might lose her, too? A chill went over him. His heart would never survive that.
His phone chirped in his back pocket. He pulled it out and smiled at the timing. “Speak of the devil, here she is.”
He read her text.
Z: You at the Shamrock tonight? I need a wingman.
M: Bartending all night. Why do you need a wingman?
He figured she was coming to the bar with some of her friends. But if she was with her girlfriends, she didn’t need him as a wingman. A wingman was for picking up dates, and she wasn’t... His phone chirped again.
Z: Guardian angel then. I somehow have a date tonight. Ugh!
What the hell?
M: A date with WHO?
Z: A commercial appliance sales rep—can you believe it?
She followed the text with a laughing-crying emoji. He very definitely couldnotbelieve it. He stared at the screen, thinking this must be some sort of joke.
Z: Anyway—see you at 7. He seems nice, but if I give you the bat signal, come rescue me. I’m way out of practice.
Mary leaned forward to get his attention. “You haven’t noticed two guys trying to order some drinks over there. Is Zoey okay?”
He probably looked as stunned as he felt.
“Zoey’s coming here for dinner.” He swallowed hard. “She’s on adate. With some sales guy.”
Mary’s mouth fell open. “I didn’t know she was dating.”
“Neither did I.”
And he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Zoey having dinner with some guy. On adate.Right in front of him.
FORTHEHUNDREDTHTIME, Zoey asked herself how she’d gotten herself into this mess. Adate.With Mason Fontino—a guy she didn’t evenknow.She could have said no, of course. But for some reason, she hadn’t.
Mason had still been sitting at the counter at The Spot yesterday when she’d walked out of the kitchen and let Evie know that the ancient dishwasher would live to wash dishes for at least another few months. She couldn’t make any promises after that—the thing was over twenty years old. Mason had lifted his coffee cup in a toast.
“I guess that means I’m taking you out to dinner this Friday!”
Zoey laughed. “I’m sorry...what?”
“That was the deal, right?” His smile was warm and genuine. “You fix that creaky old machine without a manual, we talk about getting you on the list of approved repair techs. And then, totally unrelated, I take you to dinner.”
