Page 30 of Hungry Hearts

My parents knew I had no desire to follow in their footsteps. They were content managing a McDonald’s franchise and never leaving our small home in Ohio. My dreams weren’t to become rich and famous, to live in a penthouse or mansion, or even drive a fancy car. Yet here we are. Not that I’m famous, but I’m well-known in the food world. At least in the Northeast.

All is good.

I watch as two kids run around in circles with a chocolate lab. They drop to the ground and the dog follows their lead, rolling on its back like he’s played this game with them before. The giggles and barks are happy. Sweet. It’s nice.

A yearning deep in my chest surprises me. Kids aren’t my specialty. Nolan’s niece and nephew are cute, and I play with them the few times I go to Ohio to visit, but we aren’t necessarily super close. It always takes a little bit for them to warm up to me since I’m kind of a stranger.

Every time I see them, they’ve changed so much from my last visit, but I guess that’s what kids do. Grow. Change. It has been cool to see them in their different stages of life. When I first held Katie, Nolan’s niece, she was maybe three months old. The cuddling was cute for five minutes, then she blew up her diaper and I was all done with that.

Serena refused to take her daughter back and walked me through changing the diaper. I gagged. She laughed. No sympathy, that woman. That’s what I get for being a pain in her ass for so many years. She’s a pretty good big sister to Nolan. They’re tight, even tighter now that we’re all adults.

Maia reminds me a lot of her. Sweet, girl next door vibes, but a bit of spice underneath. They’d like each other. Shit. I haven’t even introduced Maia to the guys and I’m already thinking of having her meet the extended family?

This is scary territory I’m in.

“Hey,” a feminine voice purrs in my ear. She rubs her elbow against mine. “Which one is yours?”

I glance over my shoulder, taking in the woman who stands much closer than a stranger should. She’s hot. Tall, blonde, perky fake tits spilling out of her tight running top, legs that go on for miles.

A different time, a different day, and I’d be arranging a time to meet up at her place.

“None. Just taking a break from my run. You?”

“I don’t have any pets. Too much work.” She turns, and her boobs not-so-subtly brush up against my arm. “I’m Veronica.”

“Nice to meet you, Veronica. Ryder.” I hold out my hand, because despite how much of a dog I am, I do have manners. This is where I drop another line, complimenting her on her eyes or mouth.

But they’re blue and not brown. Her lips are full, but from injections and not the natural DNA she was born with. I never used to care if a woman had enhancements, injections, or surgeries. I still don’t. No judgment here. To each their own. But I’m not interested in this woman, and it’s not because she isn’t every man’s wet dream.

She’s just notmywet dream. At least, not right now. I’m sure once I get over my obsession with all things Maia I’ll be back to my usually scheduled program.

“Mind if I join you on your run?”

That would normally be my line, and we’drunto the nearest bed. But she doesn’t stir my cock in the slightest. The need to run is strong, but away, not with her.

“On any other day I’d be all over that offer.” I give her my signature wink, because even on the rare occasion I turn a woman down, I’m not an ass about it. “Unfortunately, I’m on a tight schedule today. It was my pleasure meeting you, Veronica.”

I jog back to my apartment, stopping at the store to pick up a few things for lunch along the way.

After I shower, finish folding my laundry, and eat, I stare at my phone and contemplate sending Maia a text. She said we’d talk tomorrow to plan lunch, but I don’t want to wait another day to pass without talking to her.

ME:Least favorite food?

When she doesn’t text back, I tell myself it’s because she’s busy at work. After another hour and no response, I stare at my cell, tempted to ask her another question. But is that annoying? Hounding?

It isn’t until my eyes are blurry from scrolling through food blogs and writing recipes that I want to experiment with that my phone vibrates on the counter next to me. I’m not too proud to admit I jumped from my stool and read her text immediately.

MAIA:Sorry. Busy day at the salon. Um, least favorite food that I’ve tried or that I have no desire to try?

I have no shame in replying instantly. I don’t play games and don’t need to pretend I haven’t been sitting around all day waiting to hear from her.

ME:Both.

MAIA:Not a fan of clams, mussels, and steamers. But all other fish and shellfish are amazing. I’ve never tried liver, but it doesn’t sound appetizing.

ME:No bivalve mollusks? Not even scallops?

MAIA:I have no idea what a bivalve mollusk is, but it sounds like a part of an intestine. No thanks. Scallops are one of my favorites.

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