Page 19 of Forever Endeavor

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she spoke up. “I don’t know why tonight feels so awkward. It’s not like this is a date.”

Sonny gripped his glass. “Maybe if we both stopped pretending this isn’t a date, we could finally relax a bit.”

She was stunned that he’d even make the suggestion. “Do you want this to be a date?”

He shrugged. “I guess I’d be okay with that. You?”

“I suppose the idea doesn’t offend me completely.”

“Okay then. It’s a date.” He held out his hand and they shook on it. Billie immediately felt her tightened tendons slacken. Sonny’s smile reformed from duress to no stress.

“I’ve only had three dates since my divorce, so forgive me if I’m a bit rusty,” she said.

“That’s three more than I’ve got under my belt, and I think I’ve been divorced longer.”

“How long?” she asked, preparing to roll up her sleeves and compare battle scars.

“Two years. Separated for one. Married for eight,” he answered.

“Almost two for me. College sweetheart. Married for eleven, although having a wife apparently cramped his swinging single lifestyle.”

“Cheated?”

“He did more behind-the-scenes nailing and screwing than HGTV.” She forced a smile. “The day I found out, that son of a bitch served me with divorce papers. Didn’t even give me the satisfaction of filing first.”

“Aw, shit,” Sonny mumbled before downing another swig. “I can relate. I caught my ex red-fucking-handed with my so-called best friend.”

Billie’s heart clutched at the double betrayal. “Wow, I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

“I was so pissed I couldn’t see straight. I’m pretty much over it, except whenever I accidentally bump into them. Then it’s like whacking a hornet nest with a stick,” he said. “Stirs up a lot of anger inside.”

“Any kids?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We never saw eye to eye on it. I’ve wanted a family for as long as I can remember, but she didn’t, so the conversation ended before it began. You?”

“I always imagined that I’d be a mom someday, but my ex was shooting blanks. Just as well, because in his mind that also gave him license to fuck around without protection. Pretty humiliating to have to get tested for the whole gamut of STIs when you’ve only been with one man for thirteen years.”

“What an asshole. You all right?”

She nodded. “If it’s true that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, I should be able to bench press a Buick by now.”

They shared a laugh, breaking apart the last remnants of tension. Misery always did love company. “You know what I don’t get?” he asked. “Why didn’t they just leave us instead of putting us through hell?”

“Exactly. I’d rather he’d asked for a divorce upfront instead of duping me like some dumb chump. I can’t believe I wasted so many of my best years on him.”

Sonny nodded. “I hear ya. Everyone talks about how divorce hits you in the wallet, but nothing prepares you for what a mindfuck it is. It really messes with your head.”

“Not to mention your writing career.”

“Which is why you figured the Dominican was your best solution?”

She shrugged. “Before I ended up on this unexpected detour.”

His gaze lingered on her mouth as she spoke. He didn’t flinch or avert his eyes, his unapologetic stare intensifying the sudden spark between them, igniting electrical charges in her belly that spread like a high voltage current between her thighs. “But I thought you said Freud didn’t believe in detours.”

“Accidents,” she corrected.

“Whatever.”