Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
I spin around, eyes wide. He has me so discombobulated that I momentarily forget what I once knew about him. “You’re married? You are an asshole.”
He shakes his head, his expression changing. A granite shield slips into place, as if masking old pain he doesn’t want me to see. “Widowed.”
My heart stops. My chest fills up with something tight and painful. “Oh. Oh, my god. I knew that. I’m so sorry.”
The details are murky, but I remember all the bullying from Hayden’s son started when Parker was in middle school, right after his mother died. Sympathy for what that poor little boy must have been going through was the only reason I didn’t charge into a grieving Hayden Atwater’s office back then and demand he stop his son from being an asshole to my daughter.
That sympathy worked against me then—it has been years, and his awful son still torments my daughter—so I don’t make the mistake of letting it happen again.
“Well, I’m very sorry for your loss, but don’t think my sympathy changes my answer.”
“I would never exploit my wife’s death to charm a woman, Miss Cane, even one as lovely as you.” My face heats, but he gracefully leaps to the next topic, somehow in a way that doesn’t feel all that strange. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re still going out with me, just not for that reason. I have the perfect place in mind. I think you’ll like it.”
“Based on all you know about me?” I mutter.
As if he didn’t even hear me, he plods on. “I guess if you’re committed to having dinner with your daughter tonight, we can go out afterward. That gives you time to change out of your costume, anyway.” His gaze rakes over me before returning to my face. “How does 8:30 sound? I’ll pick you up.”
I stare up at him, wide-eyed. “You are relentless.”
He smiles. “I know. Makes me a damn good attorney.”
“I’ve told you no a thousand times. I shouldn’t have to say it again.”
“Why don’t you try a different answer? One I’ll like better.”
I sigh, exiting the dance school and heading for my car. “Why don’t you try asking out a woman who actually wants to go out with you? You’re handsome, and you charge $1,400 an hour, so you’re clearly not struggling to pay the bills. Surely this town is full of women tripping all over themselves for your attention.”
“Eh, too easy. I want you.”
I know he only means he wants to have a drink with me, but his wording makes my stomach drop. I’ve never had a man boldly tell me that he wants me before.
We’ve made it to my car, but he’s still following me. The only thing left to do is get in and drive away, but since the man won’t go away, I turn back to face him.
“I don’t date,” I say. Maybe if I give more of an explanation, he’ll give up. “This is my daughter’s last year before she leaves for college, and I want to focus all of my free time on her right now. I have the rest of my life to waste on relationships that aren’t going anywhere. I’ve chosen to sit it out this year. If you want a rain check, I’ll give you one,” I offer, knowing he’ll never remember he wanted to go out with me in a year’s time.
He’s scowling, displeased by my explanation. “You can’t go out with me because you’re not dating this year?”
“Correct.”
“That’s absurd. Tell me the real reason.”
“That is the real reason.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “You were very adamant about not wanting to go out with me, specifically. If your dating fast was the real reason, you would’ve mentioned it right away.”
I stare at him. “Maybe I didn’t think I owed you an explanation for why I didn’t want to go out with you.”
“Well, you were wrong.”
My eyes narrow with dislike before I can stop them. Finally, unlocking my car door and opening it, I say, “As lovely as this has been, I’m going home.”
He grabs my car door, letting me get in but preventing me from closing it. “What makes you think it isn’t going anywhere?”
I glance up at him. “What?”
“You said you have the rest of your life to go on dates that aren’t going anywhere, that’s why you don’t think dating is a thing worth doing while your daughter still lives at home.”
“I did.”
“Why such a dour outlook on dating?” he asks.
“I don’t have a dour outlook on dating.” I tug at the door, but he doesn’t release it, so I shoot him a dirty look. “I have a dour outlook on dating you.”
His eyebrows rise. “Why?”
I could give him plenty of reasons. He’s pushy and annoying, he doesn’t listen to me when I speak, and I’ve never found frustrating men particularly charming.