Page 31 of Big Bad Single Wolf Dad

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice hard.

I hear Eric chuckle almost condescendingly, letting the exhale linger on his tongue.

“I was just wondering what your schedule looked like tonight? Say, around eight?”

I grimace, trying not to clench my teeth too hard. I don’t want to argue with him. I don’t even want to hear his voice! So I pick the response that'll shut down the conversation the fastest.

“No, tonight isn’t good for me,” I say with a deep sigh. I’d rather be scrubbing the toilet than going out with him tonight.

“Shame. What about tomorrow evening? Or the next? How about you just tell me what day would work for you?” Eric asks, with a bit of desperation that isn’t lost on me. For a moment I almost feel bad for the guy, but then I shake off the guilt. That’s not my burden.

“No, I don’t know when a good time would be. I have something else going on right now.”

“Something else?” Eric asks. “Sounds big. Why don’t we meet up so you can tell me all about it?”

“Fine,” I say, ready to end this. “Not something. Someone. I’m seeing someone else right now, and he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of keeping my interest.” I pull down a shirt that looks like it’ll work and move to the pants. “Look, I just don’t like this ‘being pursued by multiple guys’ thing. And I’m pretty sure I’ve decided which of you I prefer.”

“Oh, Sarah, don’t tell me you’re seeing that alpha asshole Greg,” Eric chides me.

“First of all, it’s none of your business. And second of all, yes I am. And third, he’s not an asshole. He’s a gentleman.”

“I’ve heard some things about him. Well, it’s more like I’ve seen some things.”

I pause, feeling my pulse pick up like a jackhammer. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing. Only recalling how I saw him outside of Cafe Verde with a very hot piece of ass just two days ago. You were at work then, yes? Well, it’s not like she could be mistaken for you. Unless you dyed your hair bright red recently. You didn’t, did you?”

“You’re lying,” I say quietly. But doubt is already seeping into my mind. I’ve been through this before, after all. I’m well aware that any man could be less honorable than how he seems. Even Greg, in spite of what he’s shown me.

“I’m simply telling you what I’ve seen with my own eyes. Sarah, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I let out a short laugh of frustration. “Something tells me you’re a bit biased in this situation.”

Eric clicks his tongue, and the sound makes my skin crawl. “I just want you to know that if he turns out to be the dog we all know he is, I’m here for you.”

I hang up and throw my phone onto the bed. How dare Eric try to sow doubt in me like this. The nerve of him! Does he think that spreading rumors and gossip somehow makes him more desirable?

I hear an eruption of laughter from downstairs and exhale slowly. If they’re happy, I’m happy. I try on the clothing I picked out and find it fits well enough. The clothes are clean, but the shirt has Greg’s scent lingering on the collar. I breathe it in, finding it relaxes me. I bet the real deal will do even more for my mood.

But I pause, replaying Eric’s words in my head. Was he lying? I know what it sounds like when a man is lying by now. He’s either really good at it, or he actually saw Greg with another woman recently. Maybe she’s just a coworker, someone who helps run his business? Or a client?

I find myself absentmindedly scrolling through his shirts again, this time paying special attention to the collars and looking for any signs of a lipstick stain.

Eric’s gotten into my head. Damn him, I can’t let this get in the way of the happiness I was just feeling! If he wants me so badly, then why won’t he act like a gentleman instead of this weird angry warlord?

I go to the playroom, where the kids seem enthralled with a cartoon featuring brightly colored dogs. They’re all sitting on the floor, crashing into each other in fits of giggles. Greg is sitting on the couch, on the far left side. Carefully, I make my way over and sit on the far right.

There’s something here, a tension that didn’t exist before. Does he somehow know what Eric told me?

I don’t know what to think anymore. My heart is breaking all over again.

17

GREG

The giant wicker basket is a bit much, but I’m a sucker for nostalgia and I know my kids love a good picnic. I only hope Sarah’s kids have the same taste.

I pack the last of the sandwiches into the basket, before piling another bag full of games: Twister, frisbees, balls, remote control planes, and a whole host of other toys I think they might enjoy. I want this picnic to be perfect, and I’m not leaving anything up to chance.

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