I force a smile and deliberately avoid Cole’s gaze. “As in a date.”
“What?” Cole’s suddenly interested, setting down the glass and stepping up to the bar, making it impossible to avoid facing him. “You’re dating? Since when are you dating?”
I push past the frustration and hurt. “Since tonight.”
“Good for you, girl,” Tucker says.
“Whoever it is, he’s a lucky guy,” Logan adds.
“Who is it?” Cole wants to know.
“Chill, dude,” Tucker tells Cole. “Don’t go all big brother.”
“I’m just asking.”
It’s the most interested I’ve seen him in my life in a long time. “He’s the friend of a friend,” I lie. “No one you guys know.” Good time to change the subject. “I’d like to ask a favor.”
“Anything,” Logan says.
“You name it,” Tucker says at the same time.
Cole doesn’t respond, his expression confirming his mind is still on my date.
“You know about the renovation at Lisa Dorn’s?” I ask.
Right on cue, all three of them drop into somber reverence for the fire captain who recently died of a heart attack and confirm their knowledge of the situation with a nod. Dorn was halfway through a home remodel when he died.
“I’m not sure where you guys are in your schedule rotation, but I was hoping you could come by to help finish up the patio. It’s all that’s left on the remodel, and I’d really like to keep up the momentum to get it done for Lisa. Summer’s around the corner, and with three little kids, she’ll need that space.”
“Sure,” Tucker says. “Anything you need.”
“Absolutely,” Logan says.
“Yeah,” Cole says, still in a mood. “I’ll be there.”
When Evan died, everyone promised they wouldn’t drift away, but of course many did. It’s difficult for firefighters’ families to face the personification of their worst nightmare. Difficult for a widow to watch other families move on with a life she should have had.
Cole always promised he wouldn’t be one of the people who abandoned me, but I’m struck by how closed off he’s become. I can’t read him anymore. Despite the amount of time and attention he spends taking care of me, he’s grown more and more distant.
I’m glad I didn’t bail tonight after all. I’m glad the news is hitting Cole while I have reinforcements in the form of Tucker and Logan. I’m glad I’m meeting a new guy, and I’m glad Cole will be here to witness it. Maybe he’ll let himself off the hook, and we won’t have to do this awkward, tense, obligated thing anymore. It’s gone on way too long.
Someone approaches from my left. I move to step out of the way, but a hand squeezes my arm. I turn that direction and find my date. He’s smiling like he’s really glad to be here, which feels damn good after years of pity.
But, shit, I can’t remember his name.
I return his smile and let him kiss my cheek. His eyes are a quiet blue, his hair a medium brown. He’s very ordinary. Average height, weight, build. He’s older than me, I’d guess by at least five years, and I remember he said he sells insurance. I guess he looks like the kind of guy you would expect to sell insurance. Quiet, pleasant, safe.
After what I’ve been through, quiet, pleasant, and safe sounds like a dream.
“Wow,” he says, stepping back and looking me up and down. “You look amazing.”
I didn’t get dressed up for the date, and I feel a little guilty after he’s complimented me on my basic jeans and white blouse, clothes I wear all the time. “Thank you.”
He’s wearing sensible khakis, a bland white button-down with a pale-blue hatch print, buttons secured at the wrists. Not one risky vibe to him. Perfect.
“Want to grab a table?” I ask.
“Absolutely.” He curls his hand around mine, and something inside me balks, but I don’t pull away. This is what I want. This safe man whose name I can’t remember.
But I can’t keep my gaze from traveling back to Cole, still trying to get my heart on board with this logical choice. He’s got a very disapproving look on his handsome face, and I let my gaze slide to Logan and Tucker, purposely not introducing my no-name date.
“Friday for Lisa’s place? About eight or nine in the morning?”
“We’ll be there,” Logan says.
I steer my date toward a small table as far away from the bar and Cole’s hot stare as possible.
2
Cole
“What the actual fuck?”
I press both hands to the bar, arms straight, and watch this guy I don’t know hold Natalie’s hand all the way to the table. Watch him pull out her chair and wait to tuck it in after she sits.
I want to break the guy’s arm.
“I told you this would happen, dumb shit,” Tucker says.
“I’m surprised it took this long for someone to scoop her up,” Logan says.
“She didn’t even introduce us, for fuck’s sake,” I say. “Where the hell did he come from? She’s never even mentioned being ready to date again. We know nothing about this guy.”
“It’s been two years,” Logan says. “She deserves to be happy.”
“I don’t like the look of him.”
“You don’t have any right to act like a jealous prick,” Tucker says. “You’ve had plenty of opportunity to step in. Now get out of her way and let her get a dose of happiness.”
“I’m just concerned,” I lie. I lie a lot when it comes to how I feel about Natalie. Always have. “The last thing she needs is to have her heart pulled out by the throat again.”
“She’s capable of making her own decisions,” Logan says.
“Besides,” Tucker adds, “that guy doesn’t have one iota of danger in his DNA.”
I hate the guy on principle, whoever the fuck he is, whatever the fuck he’s made of. Or maybe I just hate myself—for disrespecting Evan by wanting Natalie, for shorting out my own dreams by not going after her.
My feelings for Natalie are confusing and contradictory. I’ve been able to keep most of my self-loathing in check by keeping Natalie at arm’s length, but that was before she was dating.
Now, I’m turned inside out with jealousy. This guy is my complete opposite, which only confirms what I’ve been telling myself for years: she doesn’t want a man like me.
It’s a hard blow to my fantasy life, but it’s just the confirmation I need to stay in my lane.
Still, I’ve got a dozen burrs under my saddle right now. Half of those might be because Dad just hit me up for money—again. But the other half is definitely the sight of Natalie with this guy.
The sight of Natalie with any guy.
“How long did you think she’d stay off the market?” Tucker asks. “I’m with Logan, she’s already waited a long damn time.”
“She’s Evan’s wife,” I mutter.
“No,” Logan says, “she’s Evan’s widow.”