AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If you say so,” she says cryptically. “Are you planning to change first?”
“No.” I head into the living room and she follows me.
“Sweetheart, suits are meant for the office, not a night out on the town.”
“Would you rather I didn’t go at all?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she dismisses with a wave. “Can you at least take off the suit jacket and tie?”
“Sure, Mom.” I undo my cobalt tie and shrug off my jacket, draping them over the couch. “Happy now?”
“Yes, you look very handsome.” She leans in to pat my face. “Now hurry along. You’re running late.”
I grab my keys from the basket on the entryway table and head to the front door.
“Have fun, sweetheart.” She beams as waves goodbye.
“See you later, Mom.”
If my mom’s friend, Stacy, didn’t own Willow Creek Café, I’d skip out and join my dad at Old Mill. But I know if I don’t show up to this thing, I’ll never hear the end of it.
On my way to my car, I notice that Marlow’s Jeep isn’t in her driveway, and her house is completely dark except for a lamp in her living room. That’s odd since she’s usually in her loft painting at this time of night, with every light in the house on.
Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been distracted countless times, unable to resist watching her paint when I should be working. It’s hypnotic watching her lose herself in the process of transforming a plain canvas into something extraordinary. The way her lips part in concentration, the world around her fading away. Every stroke of the palette knife is a testament to her dedication, as if she’s pouring a piece of her soul into the masterpiece unfolding before her.
Without fail, she finishes every painting session with at least one paint smudge on her face. And every time I have the inclination to wipe it off—like I did that night in her studio a couple of weeks ago. I often take it a step further in my mind and imagine tracing the paint down her neck, over her collarbone, across the swells of her breasts.
I shake my head, attempting to clear all thoughts of Marlow from my mind, and get into my car. I need to remember she’s my daughter’s nanny, ten years my junior, and that her sunny disposition annoys me.
At least it used to.
There’s a reason I’ve avoided her as much as possible since our encounter in my kitchen last week. She’s messing with my head, and I don’t know how to put an end to it.
Maybe my mom was onto something suggesting I go out tonight. It’s better than staying home, watching Marlow’s studio, wondering where she is, who she’s with, and what she’s doing. Tonight could offer a welcome distraction from her constantly occupying my thoughts.
It takes less than ten minutes to get to Willow Creek Café, one advantage of living in a small town. However, I have to park several blocks away, which is odd because this part of town is typically not busy.
When I enter the café, Stacy is standing at the hostess station. Her auburn hair is pulled back into a low bun, and she’s wearing a teal button-up shirt and black slacks.
“Hey, Dylan.” She greets me with a warm smile. “I would ask if you wanted a table, but I just got off the phone with your mom, so I know you’re not here for dinner.” She winks. “Why don’t you head to the back? They’ve already started, but I’m sure they won’t have any trouble finding you a seat. Good luck in there.” She moves away to seat a couple, waiting for a table.
I venture to the back of the restaurant, shocked to find the events room packed. There must be other singles from the surrounding towns here tonight.
Tables are lined up in rows with women seated on one side, men on the other. It’s then that I notice a chalkboard sign propped up against the door—Welcome to Aspen Grove’s Speed Dating Mixer.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
My mom tricked me into coming to a speed dating event. I should have asked for more details before agreeing to come. We’re going to have a conversation about boundaries when I get home, which is going to be much sooner than she expected because I’m not staying for this.
I’m ready to make a quick exit when I spot a familiar face across the room, framed with golden blonde hair and striking eyes—one blue, one green.
Marlow Taylor.
Her cherry red lips are turned up in a smile. She’s styled her hair into an intricate halo braid, and she’s wearing a vintage plum sweater dress with bell sleeves. She looks incredible, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.
She’s seated across from Eric Schultz, the manager at the local bank, who’s staring at her like she’s going to be his next meal. Rumor has it he’s in the middle of a messy divorce, so he has no business being here.
Marlow is worthy of a man who will treat her right and not use her as a rebound. She deserves someone willing to take care of her and who will be there when she needs them most. I highly doubt Eric fits the bill.
