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He walked me to my car. “I was surprised to find you liked nachos.”
I laughed. “Who doesn’t like nachos?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging.
“Ah, because you’ve taken women out who have not liked nachos,” I said with a smile. “I suppose it’s probably not very delicate. And I used my fingers. The horror.”
“It was nice to have dinner with a woman that wasn’t complaining about the unhealthy nature of the food,” he said. “I have to say, I had a lot more fun than I thought I was going to tonight.”
“Me too,” I said.
He leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I was expecting him to make a move. The kiss was pretty tame but sweet. I went home feeling all warm and fuzzy. The man was so hard to pigeonhole. Just when I was convinced I wanted nothing to do with him, he did something sweet. He seemed like a real guy, not the shallow arrogant man I thought he was. Or assumed he was.
When I got home, Trisha was sitting at the table with a bowl of ice cream. She looked up when she saw me with a cheesy grin on her face. “Busted.”
“Rough day?”
“No, I just had a craving for something cold and sweet,” she said, shrugging. “You’re home late.”
“I went out for a drink after volunteering,” I told her.
“With Rebecca?”
“Her son,” I said with a smile.
Her eyes lit up. “Really? She’s always talking about her sons. I thought one was married?”
“He is. I went out with the other one.”
Trisha knew Rebecca as well from her time volunteering at the shelter. “Do tell!”
“He’s very attractive,” I said. “Funny. Has a good job.”
“Does this mean you’re over the other guy?” she asked. “Jon?”
“It is Jon.”
She looked confused. “What? Who’s Jon?”
“Rebecca’s son. Rebecca is Jon’s mom.”
“No!”
I nodded. “Yep. He was there tonight. We made chili and served it together.”
“No way!” She was completely stunned.
“Yes.” I couldn’t stop smiling. “I was shocked as well. We went out for a drink after we were finished. We talked for hours. He’s not the man Brandon said he is. I don’t doubt he used to be a hardcore player, but I can’t see him being that same guy anymore. Every time I try to convince myself he’s bad news, he proves me wrong.”
“Sounds to me like your playboy has a heart,” she said.
I groaned. “I know. Why? Why does he have a heart? I can’t like him. I have to keep my distance. I just know he’s bad news.”
“Do you, though?” she questioned. “You’re assuming he’s bad news because of the games and what your brother told you. What do you feel in your gut?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I wish I knew. I’m just all over the place with him. He’s hot and cold. I like him one minute and the next I want to strangle him.”
