Page 13 of Forever Fickle

“I don’t think that’s true,” Armadillo replied, frowning, and looking between the two men. “Hot Cakes just hasn’t met anyone that has looked past the shell – and once he does? He’ll fall hard. He’s a good guy…”

“Right? I think he would be lucky to meet someone here, someone decent like Karen, and if they could get past all the drama – then maybe we could have another friend of ours settle down here.”

“You sure are optimistic, aren’t you?”

“My wife is rubbing off on me,” Alpo smiled painfully. “Please, Glory will be so upset if she thinks I threw Karen to the wolves… but if I know Hot Cakes? He’ll find a way to reach her, smooth things over, and then I’ll apologize the moment they get here.”

“Are you going to tell either of them about Glory – and your – matchmaking attempts?”

“No,” Alpo said quietly, “And neither are you two – because if it doesn’t work out? I need to be able to comfort my wife… and I can’t do it from the couch.”

“Maybe you deserve the couch…”

“Would you do anything to make Melody or Delilah happy?”

Both men grew quiet, staring at Alpo in understanding.

“Just make sure Karen doesn’t actually quit, okay?” Armadillo said with a heavy sigh. “Someday we’ll look back on this and laugh – but that sure isn’t today. I’m so glad I’m married to Delilah, because I’d hate to think of who Glory would try to match me up with.”

“Right?” Firefly grimaced. “We are all capable of finding our own spouses and really don’t need any help – and this probably includes Hot Cakes.”

“I know… but sometimes you do stupid things for love.”

“Keyword:Stupid.”

“I know… I know,” Alpo sighed. “I’ll make sure Karen stays.”

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER6

KAREN

Staringat the man holding the sign, she met his eyes firmly. He pointed at it again, then pointed at the passenger seat, and gave her a thumb’s up signal.

Hesitantly, she cracked the window slightly, still feeling alarmed and a little unsettled at the fact that this had all happened to her… and now she was toe-to-toe with some gorgeous guy – named Hot Cakes.

What type of guy actually had the gall to call themselves Hot Cakes?

“Can I see your identification?” she asked candidly, trying hard to find a reason to just leave… and leave him behind.

“Armadillo just told you who I am,” he countered, frowning.

“You could have heard the conversation and adlibbing to get your way, steal my car, rape me, and just…”

“Lady – I am not stealing a Kia Sorrento, nor am I raping anyone, anytime soon,” he said angrily, looking distinctly uncomfortable and affronted. “You want my identification – fine.”

The man pulled out his wallet, flipped it open, and pressed it to the glass.

“I’m not tossing it inside because you could leave – with it – and then I’m up a creek. You’ll have to read it through the glass, right before you unlock the car and let me in.”

“I could leave you here,” she countered, leaning forward to see it indeed was Jace Sorensen. His military I.D. was there – along with a Massachusetts driver’s license in the other window.

“Don’t try anything funny,” she warned, before moving to unlock the car doors. “I’m serious.”

“You’re completely safe…”

She pressed the unlock – and he quickly grabbed the car door handle fast enough to make her jump.

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