Page 111 of Four Dates and A Forever
“Disappointing. I was going to ask if I could sign it. Write, ‘You should see the other guy’ or ‘Stay cool, Tea Girl.’ Or maybe leave my number.”
She ignored this and began to right her bike when she noticed it. Her purse had toppled over, scattering the contents in every which direction— her notebook in the middle, displayed for the world to see. Even worse it was open tohispage.
Not that it saidOwen, Abi was too visual for that. But it had enough doodles and sketches, not to mention a swirly O and a drawing of his family’s bar to paint a clear picture.
She bent down to grab it, but he was faster. In the end, they each held the notebook like a game of tug o’ war, and she was on the losing end.
“You must be a fan of Stout. Funny, I’ve never seen you in there.”
And with good reason. “I’m not really a bar kind of person.”
“Then we have that in common.”
She blinked. “But you own a bar.”
“My family owns the bar, I only run it. Big difference.”
Another mysterious clue to be filed away in her ever-growing O folder. “If you say so.”
“I say so,” he said, not letting go. “Seriously though, I just want to help.”
She still held tight, studying him to access his current level of curiosity. “No questions or cute comments?”
“Not a one. Scout’s honor.” He held up a little two-finger salute and she let go. She even let him load up her bags and hold her bike.
She brushed her hands down her pants and then gave up. There was no point. She was soaked straight through to her bozo-bloomers.
Thanks.” She mounted her bike, and a dull pain covered her entire backside. She came to a hard stop and maybe even winced a bit.
“Now, how about that ride?”
She looked at the busy street and then back to Owen. She’d finally found that kaleidoscope of monarchs she’d been searching for. Annoyingly, they were in her belly. And if that wasn’t sign enough that this moment was Jenny-ordained, the sky opened and big droplets of rain hit her like ticks on a hound dog.
“Fine.” She held up a halting finger. “But if it says twenty-five remember that’s the limit, so we go twenty-five.” Because limits were meant to keep people safe.
“It’s actually safer to go with the flow of traffic.”
“Isn’t that a fun fact? Twenty-five or no deal.”
With a smile, which she had to admit was sexy as all get out, he took her bike and led her to his truck. It was a classic. 1970s. Big cab, bigger tires, and cream with a brown stripe down the side. It was a giant truck for a giant of a man.
He opened the passenger door, and she froze. She looked at the cab and up at him, then, like her meditation app taught her, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.
“That is a battle for another day. Today it’s about calm and tranquility.”
She said it three more times until her heart was back to normal speed. She looked up to find him looking back.
There was a long pause and she braced for the onslaught of questions about her meltdown. He surprised her by not asking a single one, which was the nicest thing someone had done for her since Jenny offered to take her seat at the front of the bus with a couple of hellraisers who had put a fake spider on a fishing line and tugged it down the aisle, causing mass hysterics from the other students.
It ended up being the last good deed Jenny ever did.
Continue readingSingle Girl in the City
Turn the page to check out my upcoming release,Situationship,which is a fresh and funny take onHow Stella Got her Groove backmeetsVirgin River.
Chapter 1
If life gives you lemons, it’s only fair that a guy with vodka isn’t far behind.
