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The bakery phone rings again as I sweep up the last of the flour in the kitchen.
“Sweetie Pie’s. I’m sorry, we’re closed for the day.”
“That’s good to know,” replies a deep, drawling voice that makes my heart stutter. “Then we can hit the town tonight for our date. You pick the place. I’ll pick you up right now.”
What in the world?
He almost had me. I nearly swooned at his smooth cowboy charms. But then I remember what Jesse did this morning, and I gather my senses.
“You think I want to go out with you after this morning?”
A deafening pause follows, and then, “I’m sorry, did I miss something? I thought we had a nice conversation until everything went to hell.”
I shoot back, “Yeah, well…that’s exactly what happened. Wewerehaving a nice conversation, and then you took off after Joyce like she was…I dunno, the vampire queen or something….”
“Who?” Jesse has the gall to ask.
“Joyce. The woman who was in here, practically wagging her ass in your face.”
Jesse laughs. He laughs harder than he should. “Are you talking about the real estate lady? Come on, Mariam.”
Did he not see what I saw? “She threw herself at you, and you went after her across the street! I saw you! I mean…it’s not that you and I are dating. You’re a grown man and can date whoever you want.”
“Mariam,” he says, his voice low but still amused. “I went across the street to give my son a piece of my mind. If that real estate lady was trying to get my attention, it didn’t work. I’m not interested in her.”
I huff. “Well, she’s very interested in you, cowboy. So if you want to date someone your age, she and half the divorced moms in town are primed and ready, my guy.”
Jesse gives a rueful laugh. “I see. Like who? Who, besides the real estate lady?”
A noise of disgust pops out of my throat. “Why, so you can add them all to your contacts? Very nice.”
Jesse growls into the phone. Actually growls, and if I weren’t pissed at him right now, I’d be turned on. Okay, yes. I admit it. I am pissed and turned on, noticing the heat swirling low in my belly, rippling through the muscles between my thighs. “I’m sorry that you seem hell-bent on ‘shipping me with everyone in town. I don’t want to add anyone else to my contacts but you. That’s why I’m calling. What’s your cell number?”
I—what?
“Don’t say ‘shipping. It’s like listening to my dad say ‘yeet.’ I can’t handle it.”
This makes Jesse snort as if trying to stay annoyed and not laugh.
“Number please.” Jesse says it with authority, again making me feel things deep in my groin. God, why does he have to have such a good phone voice?
Despite all caution, I give it to him.
“There,” he exhales. “Now, I want this date to happen soon. Tonight. The sooner Nate can get it through his head that he will not sabotage my relationships, the better. And, if you’re to be believed, then I want all the rest of the women who apparently want me to know that I’m off the market.”
Hmm. Are these good enough reasons to go out with someone? Are these good reasons for a man to go out with me? The former makes me feel like a pawn, that I exist merely to put his son in his place. Yet again, I was the one who bid and won a date with Nate’s dad. The bidding was partly an act of passion borne of a desire to shove Nate’s face in it.
The latter? I can’t decide if it sounds like he doesn’t want to be bothered by flirtatious women his own age. Is that what he means?
Or…fuck it. Stop overthinking, Mariam, and go on the bloody date.
A thought occurs to me, and I check the time on my phone.
“If you come right now, we can make the last matinee of the new Marvel movie in Bozeman.”
“Let’s do it,” Jesse responds without missing a beat. “I like daytime dates better anyway. Gives us more time to do other activities if the date goes well.”
That sounded way dirtier than he meant it…unless Jesse’s flirting. God, I’m so bad at this.
