Page 9 of The Moment You Know

“They didn’t text, didn’t call. Nothing,” he said matter-of-factly. “But, ironically, those two dates were better than most of the ones I’ve had in the past year where my date actually did show up.”

She digested that. “Those dates must have been pretty bad, then.”

“On a scale of one to ten, I’ve yet to get past a five,” Hale told her. “And the date that scored a five was only because we finished dinner.”

“Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am. This online dating has been really challenging for me, to be honest.”

Paige couldn’t help but frown at hearing that. What kind of a world were they living in, when this guy was struggling with dating? Was she missing something? Was he a hot mess disguised as a hot guy? Should she start looking for red flags?

“I have a good feeling about this date, though,” he continued.

“You do?” She pretended to check her watch. “It’s barely been two minutes.”

His mouth curved upward. “True. But you showed up, so I’m feeling pretty hopeful as we head into small talk … even though that can have its own pitfalls.”

“I’ve never thought of small talk as having ‘pitfalls’.”

“Neither had I, until I expressed a fondness for watching football.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Paige was about to mention her love for all things New England Patriots (with an emphasis on Tom Brady because the man could throw a ball and looked fine while doing it) when Hale spoke again.

“My date said it was a barbaric sport played by Neanderthals with tattoos and low IQ’s, and the men who watched it were no better. I think she may have mentioned it fostered toxic masculinity or something but at that point, I wasn’t really listening to her anymore. And at the end of that date, I wasn’t choosing her over football.” He gave a quick, negative shake of his head to underscore that point.

“Good call. You dodged a bullet with that one.”

“I’ve dodged a lot of them, actually.”

“How many is a lot?”

“In the past year?” Hale took a deep breath. “A dozen.”

Her eyebrows rose, a little bit in shock, a little bit in apprehension. “So that makes me number thirteen?”

“Yes. But thirteen is my lucky number,” he assured her quickly. “Or, it will be after this date goes smoothly.”

“After it goes smoothly? That’s not a lot of pressure, or anything.”

“Nope. No pressure. Like I said, I have a good feeling.”

“I probably shouldn’t say this,” she said, using his previous words, “but you seem overly confident for someone with an 0-12 record.”

“Ouch.”

Paige grinned at him. She was pretty sure they were flirting but it had been a long time for her, and since they were basically dissing on his previous dating history … it could go either way.

To her relief Hale grinned back, then crossed his arms over his nicely broad chest before giving her a long, assessing look. “You know, you didn’t mention being an assassin in your profile.”

She returned his look. “Says the man with a trail of bodies behind him.”

“A trail of—” he broke off with a low laugh. “What happened to my dodging bullets?”

“Well, I said you dodged a bullet with that anti-football woman because she sounded bananas. And I’ll count the two who stood you up because obviously they’re horrible people, but the other nine bullets you supposedly dodged?” She shrugged. “I’m going to need some proof that you were the one actually dodging bullets like you claim, and not your dates.”

“Proof?”

“Yep.”

---