Page 16 of Dating the DILF
“I might have slightly overreacted.” I point my plastic spoon at him. “Slightly.I still think it’s weird that you hate ice cream and I’m questioning your trustworthiness based on this new information.”
“Hmph.” He grunts. “I’ll win you over.” He pops a peanut butter cup in his mouth and smirks at me.
“What were you doing that night at the grocery store? Stalking the dairy section for lonely women?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “If I remember correctly, and Ido, you said you were ‘passionate’ about ice cream.” My use of air quotes elicits an eye roll from him.
“It was a tiny white lie!” he defends. “No, seriously I might hate ice cream, but my daughter loves it, and I had promised her some for dessert.”
The spoon freezes halfway to my mouth as I let that news settle over me.
Miles continues talking, oblivious to the bombshell he just dropped. “But in my defense, when you see a beautiful woman, you use whatever excuse you can to talk to her.”
He has a daughter.
Suddenly his aversion to ice cream doesn’t seem like such a big deal.
“You have a daughter?”
He looks across the table, meeting my eye, and nods.
“I do. Her name’s Lulu. Well, it’s Tallulah, but we all call her Lulu. She’s two, almost three.” He’s watching me closely, measuring my response.
“Is she with her mom now?”
“No, my brother is watching her.”
“God, please tell me you’re single and I haven’t just become a homewrecking hussy.”
“Hussy?” He snorts. “Your good reputation is intact. I am single, I promise you. And I don’t want to know what kind of men you’ve been dating that you even felt the need to ask that question.”
“Oh, I don’t date.” I turn my attention back to my melting ice cream.
“You don’t date?” He asks the question slowly, as though rolling the idea on his tongue.
“Nope.” I slip the spoon into my mouth and enjoy the cold slide down my throat. I may also enjoy the way Miles’ eyes linger on my lips.
“Then I’m so confused about what we’re doing right now.”
“I mean I don’t normally date,” I clarify.
“Why?” It’s a blunt question, but he somehow manages not to sound rude.
“I guess my job doesn’t allow much time for a personal life.”
“What do you do?” He bites the head of a Swedish Fish.
“Lawyer. I’m a corporate lawyer.”
“Ah, well, that makes sense. I can see how it could make things hard.”
I swirl my ice cream around the cup and look at him thoughtfully. “I would say the same thing about being a dad. Although I guess you have some time for dating when she’s with her mom?”God, subtle, Charlie. Real subtle.
“Her mom passed away.”
Jesus, I guess Miles has declared today drop-a-bomb-Saturday or something.
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have even mentioned her, it’s really none of my bus—” I’m flustered so I cut myself off to try and regroup. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It’s fine, Charlie, really.” He reaches across the table and slips his fingers in between mine. “We weren’t a couple. Renee was one of my best friends, had been since college, but there was never anything romantic between us. One night, we had a bit too much to drink and two months later we were staring at a stick covered in her pee, realizing that our lives were about to change forever.” He shakes his head with a grin. Is he evernotsmiling? “At the time, it felt a hell of a lot less clichéd than it sounds.”
