Page 60 of Spotlight
I finally get brave enough to ask the question that’s been on my mind lately. “Have you ever dated someone with kids before?”
“No. How am I doing?”
“You get points for asking about her. Most guys pretend like she doesn’t exist.”
“Really?”
His surprise makes me feel slightly better about the male species.
“Aside from maybe not liking kids or the idea of me having one, I think they don’t love switching the mental image of me out on a date in a sexy dress to picturing me reading bedtime stories and folding laundry in front of the TV while watching cartoons.”
“Everything I’ve seen you do is sexy. Hell, you even make rented skates and tube socks look hot. I’d venture a guess that folding clothes and reading bedtime stories looks just as good on you.” His gaze drops over my bare legs and flicks up. He’s so vulnerable and honest in his attraction for me that it constantly catches me off guard. I don’t know if he truly understands my life as a single mom or not, but he isn’t pretending that I’m something different than I am, and I appreciate that.
After skating for three more songs, we take a break to get food.
I stand at the concession counter, perusing the menu. Flynn is behind me. He leans forward and rests both hands on the glass, caging me in.
“Hot dog, pizza, or nachos?” he asks.
“So many options,” I tease.
“Nothing but the finest cuisine.” He winks at me, then orders one of each, plus two cherry ICEEs from the teenage boy working the concessions.
We take all our food to a little booth that overlooks the rink. His skates bump against mine under the table.
“Next time we should bring Greer. Is she a good skater like her mom?”
My heart flutters at the casual way he mentions a second date, including my daughter.
“She’s pretty good. She falls more, but she makes it look cute.”
“I’ll bet.”
I take a bite of the cheesy, greasy pizza. It’s terrible. I follow it with a sip of the frosty, cherry drink. The sugar goes straight to my head.
I feel thirteen again. God, maybe that was the last time I was this hopeful while out with a guy.
Flynn makes a face as he chews a tortilla chip covered in nacho cheese.
“Good?” I ask with a laugh.
“Awful.” He grabs another chip smeared in the orange sauce and holds it out to me.
I lean forward and take a bite. I’m not sure awful was a strong enough word for how bad it is. The chip is stale, and the cheese is cold. My expression must tell him exactly what I’m thinking because Flynn laughs.
He pops the rest of the chip in his mouth and smiles at me. “Next time, we’ll go to a real restaurant first.”
My stomach flips as he casually drops the promise of another date again. I’m not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. Or maybe he’s just that confident.
“Or I could cook for you,” I suggest.
“You cook?”
“Yeah.”
He groans. “Marry me?”
“Because I can cook?” Laughter flows out of me easily around him.
