Cupid Loves Curves (Curvy Collections #11)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

LUKE

C ome again?” I ask, my voice a sharp bark of disbelief.

I must be drunk if Daryl said what I think he said. That’s the most asinine fucking thing I’ve ever heard.

“Mack and Aimee’s wedding is coming up. You need a date.”

A growl escapes my mouth as I glare at Daryl. He’s not wrong, but…this isn’t right. The only thing worse than weddings is going without a date. Without a woman on my arm, every single woman will make a pass at me, and I’ll wish I wasn’t there. Women think a wedding means open season on every single man there.

“The fuck I do,” I mutter, draining the rest of my beer and motioning to the bartender, Marian, for a refill. I shouldn’t have another before Waylon and the others get here, but right now, I need to be not-sober.

“Come on, Foster. You’ve been moping around like some tragic hero in one of the romance novels my mom used to read. It’s time you got back in the game,” Daryl teases and slaps my back, nearly making me spill my fresh beer. He doesn’t try to hide how much he’s enjoying pissing me off.

“Listen here, Mathis,” I growl and set my beer carefully on the bar, my annoyance flaring hot. “I don’t need you—or anyone else—meddling in my love life. Or lack thereof.”

“Relax, Luke. You need a woman in your life. When’s the last time you took a woman out?” Daryl presses, not letting this go. “Don’t you think it’s time you put yourself back out there? Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone who can handle your broody ass.”

“Maybe I do, but this isn’t the way to do it, Daryl.” Inwardly, I admit he’s probably right. It’s not that I don’t want a woman in my life. I’m still dealing with the burden of what I saw when I was in the Army. It’s already ruined one relationship with an amazing woman – my best friend’s sister, no less – and I’m scared that I’ll shut down again instead of letting a woman in. Though the truth is, I haven’t had eyes for any other woman since Jessica.

Daryl laughs and drains his beer, motioning to Marian for a refill. “You say that, but you have to admit you want more than this solitary life you’ve been leading.”

“What about you, you fucking lunatic?” I counter. I’m not sure Daryl’s ever had a woman in his life for longer than a weekend. “How is the man who claims he’ll never settle down with a woman suddenly an expert on my dating life?”

“We’re not talking about me. I’m happy as I am. You, on the other hand,” Daryl says, tilting his beer toward me, “are not happy on your own. You’re just too in your head to do something about it.”

Daryl’s comment pushes me into silence. He’s…not exactly wrong. Still. “Tell me why I shouldn’t haul you out of this bar and whoop your sorry ass into oblivion?” I threaten, but I’m laughing now. Even if Daryl is technically right, I’m still giving him shit for having done this without my permission.

“Because even if the date doesn’t work out – and it’s only one date – you win twenty-thousand bucks. You said you wanted to build out your cabin, and this could finance that, because I know you’re not aching to jet off to the Bahamas or London.”

A sharp laugh bursts out of me. “Damn straight. King Mountain has everything I need – especially the quiet.”

“So you’re not going to bail?” Daryl holds up an envelope that looks a lot like the wedding invitation I received for Mack and Aimee’s wedding. “Because I have details for your date right here.”

I glare at him and snatch the fancy invitation from him. “Give it to me.”

I read through it. It has instructions to meet my date at Ciao, Bella!, which is fine. I don’t eat out often, but I know they have good food. There’s a second envelope inside, which I’m supposed to open after the first part of the date. “Huh.”

“Huh, what?” Daryl asks, trying to read the card over my shoulder.

“It says there are two parts to the date. If this date is torture, I’m going to hunt you down and make you pay.”

Daryl snorts and pays for the new round of beers. “In your dreams, Foster.”

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter under my breath. “This matchmaker isn’t pulling any shots.”

Daryl laughs and turns to me. “What now, hotshot?”

I glare at Daryl, the fire of frustration rising again. “The date is on Valentine’s Day. Christ almighty.”

“You two are here early,” Waylon’s deep voice says from behind us, and it’s a good thing because I’m closer than ever to taking Daryl outside to settle what he’s done.

Daryl and I grab our beers and stand.

“Finished the inspections early,” Daryl says.

“Good. Good. The others will be here in a few. Grab those tables in the back,” Waylon says, nodding to the corner by the empty pool tables. “I’ll get a beer and be right over.”

Nathan and Reggie burst into the bar, laughing about something, and join Waylon. As usual, Reggie leans against the bar and moons at Marian, and Marian pretends she doesn’t notice.

“They need to fuck and get whatever that is,” Daryl tilts his head toward Reggie and Marian, “out of their systems.”

I watch as Reggie looks at Marian the way I looked at Jess. Reggie won’t admit it, but he has it bad for the curvy brunette behind the bar and has for as long as I’ve been living on King Mountain.

“Alright,” Waylon says loudly after everyone has grabbed a seat. “There shouldn’t be too much to go over this week. Mathis, Foster, how are the rental cabins? They good to go for the upcoming season?”

Daryl glances at me, and I nod for him to give the report. He pulls his notebook from his back pocket and flips through the pages.

“Here we are. Cabin One, the deck boards we put in a few years back are holding up well. Wasn’t sure how they’d be after the storms this winter, but they’re fine. Cabins Two and Three could do with a fresh coat of paint. Remember those college kids from last year?”

Waylon strokes his beard and nods. We all remember those kids. Aside from damn near burning down this side of the mountain when they decided to get drunk and start a bonfire, somehow all the walls got marked up. It’s a mystery we never figured out, and with the walls structurally fine, we figured maybe we didn’t want to know what happened.

“Yeah. Anything else?”

“Nope,” Daryl says, snapping his notebook shut and wedging it in his back pocket.

“Good. I’ll order some paint, and we’ll get those walls painted. We’re already booked up for most of the season.”

We all groan. Having tourists running around our side of the mountain is an annoyance, but it funds Waylon's work, so we all deal with it. There are other cabins, but Waylon usually takes care of those personally.

“Alright, that’s a wrap, gentlemen,” Waylon says, standing at the head of the table, his voice deep. “Good work this week.”

The rest of us stand and start lining up quarters on the pool table.

Daryl sidles up next to me, a mischievous glint in his eye that I know all too well. “You know, Luke,” he starts, and I brace myself for whatever ribbing is coming my way, “I might’ve done you a solid by entering you in that contest.”

“Solid or not, I’ll bury you on the other side of the mountain if my match turns out to be a crazy woman,” I retort.

The guys erupt into laughter as Daryl shares the story of the matchmaking service, and they all raise their beers to me.

“Can’t wait to hear these stories.” Nathan chuckles, nudging with his elbow. “Luke Foster’s Wild Adventures in Love.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help chuckling. “Let’s keep the word ‘wild’ out of it, huh?” Maybe it won’t be as bad as I expect. Who am I kidding? It probably will be as bad as I fear.

“Hey, it’ll be the highlight of our next meeting.” Daryl grins, slapping my back.

“We’ll see,” I say drily, but humor softens my words. It’s just one night , I tell myself. Getting back in the saddle with women doesn’t sound like the worst thing, but aside from my ex, I’ve been fine minding my own business and not getting emotionally tangled up with a woman.

We settle around the pool table, the felt surface worn from years of use. Daryl racks the balls as I grab fresh beers from Marian.

“Your break, Luke,” Daryl calls.

I stride over, cue in hand, and line up my shot. Leaning forward, the world narrows to the white cue ball and the colorful triangle before me. The crack of impact sends the balls scattering, and the five ball sinks into the corner pocket.

“Nice shot,” Daryl compliments.

We fall into the easy rhythm of the game, the comfortable silence between us filled with the soft snick of pool balls and the scent of beer.

“Think this matchmaker found a woman who will be able to handle your grumpy ass?” Reggie teases as he watches Daryl and me play.

“We’ll see,” I reply. My gaze is on the table, but my mind wanders to the what-ifs of this matchmaking nonsense.

“Ah, I bet this matchmaker has an amazing woman ready for a chance with King Mountain’s most eligible bachelor,” he says.

“Most eligible disaster, more like,” I mutter. It’s been too long since I allowed myself to consider the prospect of someone else getting close, but maybe it is time. I haven’t been in a while, but maybe I should schedule an appointment with my therapist at Warrior Cares and see what he thinks.

“Ever the optimist.” Daryl shakes his head and takes another swig of his beer. “Just give it a chance, man. You might be surprised.”

“Surprised, terrified... it’s a fine line,” I retort, focusing on the eight-ball now lined up easily near a side pocket.

We play round after round, and eventually, the guys move on from teasing me about my upcoming blind date. The other men join in, and soon, a tournament is underway. Pitchers of beer circulate, along with the warmth of camaraderie we share. It’s a night like any other at King Tap, yet I feel like something new may be in my future. If you asked me if I was ready to consider a date with a new woman, I’m not sure I’d say yes. But now that one is arranged for me, I’m curious about the whole thing. Not that I’d tell Daryl.

“Next month, you’ll either thank me or curse me,” Daryl says with a sly grin as he sinks the first ball of the final game.

“Probably both,” I admit, unable to suppress a chuckle. “But, hey, maybe it’ll be a funny story to tell.”

“Here’s to funny stories.” Reggie raises his glass, and the rest follow suit, a chorus of drunken “cheers” filling the air. “Watching you squirm will be the highlight of the year,” he jests, his words laced with the kind of friendly malice only a true friend can muster.

“Keep it up, and I’ll make sure your love life becomes the bar’s next betting pool,” I shoot back, lining up my shot. The eight-ball kisses the cushion, rolls across the felt, and drops with a satisfying thunk . A cheer erupts from the guys, and hands slap my back.

“Very funny, smartass. I ain’t never settling down with a woman, and you know it,” Reggie says defensively.

“Maybe we should submit you, too,” I tease, finally relaxing as the beer works through my veins. “Or are you going to finally ask Marian out on a date? You moon over Marian like a lovesick puppy.”

“Hey, now. Don’t go getting any ideas,” he warns. “And for the record: I’m single and I like it that way.”

“Sure you do,” Nathan says, and we all laugh.

As the night wears on, I wonder if Daryl might’ve done me a favor.

But what woman would be strong enough to take on my sorry ass?