Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
By the time the kids were in bed—earlier than we’d ever been able to get them down before—I was ready for a bottle of whisky and a two-day nap.
Instead I poured both myself and Colby a glass of wine and went into the living room.
She appeared fifteen minutes later wearing a short black cocktail dress that hugged her every curve. Wait. What?
Was she dressed up for me?
“I have a date,” she announced.
I choked on my next sip of wine. “What?”
“A date.” She beamed. “You know, where someone buys you dinner or drinks or even just coffee. You share riveting conversation and, if things go well, a kiss…”
My stomach sank. “How did you even have time to find a date?”
“Oh.” Her smile was utter perfection, like sunshine and warmth and everything I’d been missing since my sister’s death. “He found me.”
The hell?
I took another slow, tentative sip of wine and narrowed my eyes. “Didn’t you go to the office today?”
“Yeah.” She grabbed a small silver clutch and dropped her cell phone into it. “I figured that it would be OK since it was after bedtime.”
I was still gaping when the doorbell rang.
My brain told me to yank open the door, tell the bastard to leave, then camp out in the front yard with a six-pack of beer and a lawn chair just in case he got any ideas about coming back.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Slowly I walked over to the door and opened it wide. “You.”
“Me.” Banks smiled. “Can I come in?” He didn’t let me answer as he moved past me and toward Colby. “You look beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, and the fucker lingered.
What the hell?
I clenched my fists as he reached for her wine and took a sip.
“That’s Colby’s,” I found myself saying.
Banks narrowed his eyes at me, his smile knowing. “Enjoying a glass of wine together after a long day? How cozy.”
I was going to kill him. What the hell was he pulling?
Was this a joke?
“Here.” Banks handed Colby the glass. “Take a few sips for liquid courage—I don’t drive slow—actually I don’t do anything slow.”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I blurted while Colby took a few sips, then set the glass back down.
“Who?” Banks looked around the room. “Me?” He laughed. “You know I don’t do girlfriends… or should I say I never used to, and then this woman walked into my life, and, well, I think it may be time to rethink my life’s plan. The heart wants what it wants, you know?”
“No,” I grumbled. “I don’t.”
Colby’s face fell, which made zero sense because she didn’t feel anything toward me. At least not since our one disastrous date.
Right?
Right?
Tears pooled in her eyes.
Fuck.
I’d just hurt her feelings. Monica always said I was the most obtuse guy around.
Shit.
I tried fixing it. “No, that’s not what I mean, I meant—”
“Well?” Banks reached for Colby’s hand, completely ignoring me. “Let’s go, we have reservations.” As he walked past me he whispered under his breath, “I wouldn’t wait up.”
Before I could even mutter, What the hell, they were gone. I grabbed the other full glass of wine and stared at it in disbelief.
She wanted to go out on a date with Banks?
Banks was a complete player with absolutely no shame. Was he going to hit on her? Should I text her?
Warn her?
And why was she all dressed up?
She’d looked good.
Happy.
She never smiled at me like that. I’d had her rage, her annoyance, I’d had it all, but this? This was new territory. A territory I was suddenly angry someone else had discovered.
A pang of jealousy shot through my chest as I swiped my phone from the counter and sent off a text.
Me:
You know he’ll sleep with anything, right?
Colby:
… was that supposed to be a warning or an insult or both?
Me:
A warning! He’ll use his moves on you. Whatever you do, don’t let him tell you the story of the time he went camping.
Colby:
I should be worried about the camping story. Gotcha. Can I enjoy my date now?
Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and rolled down my back.
Me:
Don’t stay out too late. The kids will be upset if they wake up and don’t see you.
I was being ridiculous.
I was overreacting.
I stared at my phone, willing her to text me back.
Finally the little bubbles popped up on the screen.
Colby:
Stop texting my date, man, that’s bad form. Don’t worry, I’ll have her back by eleven. Just don’t wait up. I don’t need an audience when I kiss her good night. Byeeeeee
Kiss?
He was being sarcastic.
Right?
I clutched my phone so hard that I was afraid I was going to split the screen in two. Then I grabbed the bottle of wine, poured another glass, and waited in the dark like the proverbial overprotective father waiting for his daughter to come home from prom.