Page 4 of Big Bad Single Wolf Dad

When a man learns a woman has children, their interest often wanes. Lucky for him, I’m hoping that’s exactly what’s about to happen with Eric.

Come on, come on… deflate like I know you want to… I wait for Eric’s shoulders to slump, for his eyes to roam across the room in a subtle attempt to navigate an exit plan. Single chicks with kids, and a human single chick at that, can’t be this guy’s idea of a good time.

“Cheers,” he replies, not unkindly. “I’ve got two myself. They’re my world.”

He continues, asking me my children’s names as he tells me his own. I think he says Jessica and Jason, though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d actually said something else. A sliver of me is paying attention, while the greater portion is following Greg’s every move. I take a deep, slow breath in before answering Eric.

I hear the vampire laugh as Greg turns. His amber eyes meet my own for a fraction of a second before he makes his way over. He’s tall, well-built, and with a tan any model would envy. I look away from him.

“They’re thirteen and eleven,” Eric continues. I turn away from him to face Greg, who stands before me with a beaming smile.

“You caught me staring.”

A mock look of embarrassment flashes across his face, and I can’t help but smile. I can’t remember the last time I looked at a man and he came over. Even if I didn’t want to, I don’t think I could keep myself from feeling flattered.

“You just had to, huh?” I ask as he introduces himself. “I’ll forgive you this time, Greg, since I’m too busy wrapping my head around these decorations to properly judge you.”

“Kind, interested in saving endangered species, and a plant lover?” He brushes an invisible piece of lint from his suit. “Next you’re going to tell me you love bacon and your favorite season is fall.”

“Guilty.” I shrug. “But so does everyone else. Those in their right mind, at least.”

I can’t for the life of me figure out where Eric went, though I don’t think I’ve looked away from Greg long enough to know for sure if he’s even gone. I swallow hard at the realization I’m gawking at the werewolf. I break eye contact and take a deep breath, focused on controlling my beating heart. I’ll decide when I’m impressed, not him.

“We’ll really have something in common if you tell me your thoughts on glamping.” Though the idea of ‘glamor camping’ isn’t lost on me, I’m not at the age where I need more than a sleeping bag and a tent to feel safe.

“Internet and electricity will be here when I get back,” he replies, winning another few brownie points for himself. It’s good to know someone with his wealth can still rough it. “Speaking of getting away and relaxing, is there any chance you’d let me take you to dinner sometime this week?” I blink a few times as he waits for a reply.

My cheeks redden as I realize I don’t actually know what to say. Sure, this guy is witty with great taste, but do I really want to get involved?

3

GREG

“What do you really have to lose?” I ask as soon as I remember myself. Sarah hasn’t replied yet, and it’s been at least ten seconds since I asked. At this point in my conversations with women, I usually get a ‘really?’ at the very least. And that’s on a bad day. “Of course, I will!” should be ringing in my ears by now.

I consider repeating myself, wondering if Sarah’s hearing might be terrible.

“Why?” she finally replies.

“Great, I’ll have my –” My cheeks redden as she stares up at me, confused. Did she just say why?

“What do you have to lose?” I shrug with a smile. A big one. Every inch of it I don’t mean. When did it get so hot in here and why is she smiling?

“Never ask a question you don’t know the answer to,” she advises me.

I fight the urge to comment on the fine lace of her straps, not wanting to come across as too forward. Vintage is a category of clothing I happen to love. I’m just not sure gesturing to her elegant swan neck is going to do what it normally will.

“I’m dying to know why.” I hope I sound clever and not nervous. Her blue eyes look me up and down. I can only imagine the wheels moving in her head. “I can put a pin in asking you out as long as you say yes.”

It’s not the right comment. I can tell by the way both her eyebrows go up. I grit my teeth, then think better of it. I’ll look more charming sipping something. I look around in hopes of spotting another waiter.

“How conditional of you.” She’s laughing as she says this, though the words alone are accusatory. I might be wrong, but her grin looks genuine. Is she scolding me or not?

“Don’t tell me you don’t have time.”

I’m not exactly begging, but I’m not exactly not begging, either. A tall waitress in a dark green, long-sleeved romper glides by, and I quickly grab a glass and take a sip. The bubbles feel good against the roof of my mouth. I hope my face looks as relaxed as her easy laugh.

“I won’t, but I will tell you I have kids,” she replies.

---