Chapter 11
Saturday morning rolls around, and I still have not found a real man to step into the shoes of the fake man I told my ex about. The problem is, most of the guys I’m friends with in town, I met through Daren. They were his friends first.
And how many of them knew about Trinity and didn’t tell me?
I can’t trust a single one. Which meant I had to start evaluating the Green Valley men I only vaguely knew to find a guy who fit my description.
A few of the Winstons fit the bill, but they’re all taken. When I saw an ambulance in town with two tall hunks stepping out, I got excited for a moment. But then I learned one is Sebastian Kirkwood, and the guy is dating Arthur’s coworker, Gwen. The other is Jed Lawson, who’s thoroughly in love with Lola Landry. I ran into the same issue with the buffet of man meat who own Viking MMA, the local gym.
The ladies sure are scooping up all the men in this town.
Leave some for the rest of us to pretend to be dating!
So, here I am, morning of my made-up date, man-less. I mope over my scrambled eggs and toast, more playing with my food than eating it.
“Not hungry?” the deep voice asks from the other side of the booth, and I glance up to meet Arthur’s dark gaze.
We’re both off work today, so he suggested breakfast at Daisy’s. Normally, I love this cozy diner, with its delicious fried-dough scent and low level of noise that makes listening through my hearing aid easy. But today, my life is making me nauseous.
“Not really. You want it?”
Arthur looks me over, seeing who knows what, then squares his broad shoulders, as if bracing for battle. “Want to talk about it?”
Leaning back in the booth, I cross my arms and stare at the ceiling. Arthur probably thinks I’m miserable because of Daren. And sure, that still aches something fierce. But it’s this new humiliation—the one that’ll happen this evening when I don’t show up to Genie’s with a perfect guy in tow—that has me wanting to look at real estate listings in another state.
No. I’m not running away. This is my town now too.
Arthur doesn’t push me to talk, which is one thing I like about him. If I vent, he’ll listen. If I sulk in silence, he’ll let me. Crashing at his place these past few weeks has been a lifesaver, and the postman grumbled I could stay as long as I needed when I asked him. Maybe the offer was born of guilt because he’s related to the son of a bitch who betrayed me. But I get the sense he would’ve offered me a place anyway.
I lower my chin just as Arthur nods a silent hello to someone entering the diner. I glance over and spot Beau Winston. The redhead gives an amiable smile and a nod to the both of us before guiding his companion to the counter. I meet eyes with Shelly Sullivan and offer her a wave. We’ve chatted a couple of times about engines, and she made a special part I’d needed to repair a classic airplane when I couldn’t find the piece on an online store. She waves back, no expression showing on her face, but that’s Shelly.
I wonder how Arthur and Beau know each other.
Maybe he delivers mail to the Winston home. Arthur probably knows most everyone in town.
The thought hits me like a welcome slap to the face.
“Arthur”—I lean across the table, capturing his eyes and holding them—“I need you to list all the eligible men in town who aren’t assholes.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“Because I need to use one. Tonight.”
His frown deepens. “A hookup?”
“God, no.” I wave the idea away. “I just need a date.”
His eyes narrow. “Need?”
With a gust of a sigh, I tell him a fraction of my embarrassing problem. “I might have run into Daren and mentioned I have a date tonight.”
Arthur looks confused. “With who?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. And I haven’t kept up-to-date on town gossip, so I have no idea who is on the market.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “The guys at the shop don’t chat much about couples in town, and since I didn’t grow up here, I guess the relationship drama has never interested me.”
“Not that.” Arthur crosses his beefy arms over his chest. “Why did you tell Daren you have a date if you don’t?”
I huff out an aggravated groan. “Maybe because he just got finished telling me I’d never date anyone again because I’m too closed off and distrustful.” Grimacing at the memory, I try to swallow away the nasty taste in the back of my throat. “Like I don’t have good reason to be,” I mutter.
“He said that?”
Something in Arthur’s voice has me glancing his way again.
Damn, the man looks furious.
It’s nice to have him on my side. He’s a good guy.
“Not those exact words, but that was the gist. So, what’ve you got for me? Who’s single and ready to mingle?”
He directs his glower toward his plate, reaching back to scratch his neck. “Dunno. I don’t keep up with it either.”
“Seriously? But you go to everyone’s house every day!”
“Not everyone. And they don’t gossip with me.” He taps an agitated thumb on the table. “Lance. He’s single.” Arthur grinds the words out like they pain him.
I think of the mail carrier Arthur works alongside. He’s good-looking with hair as red as Beau Winston’s and a neatly trimmed beard. He seems nice and smart and all the adjectives I listed off to my ex.
Except for one.
“I, uh...” I clear my throat, then blurt out the confession. “I need someone taller.”
Lance Holloway is on the shorter side, probably the same height as me. Not that I have a problem with short guys. Only, the first detail I gave Daren was about height. If I show up with Lance, my ex will know I was lying and the whole thing was fake to start off with.
Arthur conveys disappointment in the narrowing of his eyes, and I feel myself flush.
“I’m sorry! Lance would be perfect, but my mess of a mouth told Daren my date was taller than him. Nothing against your friend. He’s totally hot, and he seems like a top-tier human being.”
The sharpness in Arthur’s expression softens, and I’m hit with a wave of relief that he doesn’t think I’m a terribly shallow person.
Bracing my elbows on the table, I stare up at the bear of a man.
Damn, he’s tall. Probably six-three at least.
Definitely taller than Daren.
“I should take you.” The thought pops out before it’s fully formed, but my desperate mind latches on to it. “Yes! You’re tall and kind and smart and funny.” I’m about ready to crawl across the table and hug the man for being so perfect and convenient. “You’re exactly what I need.”
Arthur’s head jerks back, eyes wide. “I’m what?”
“Those were the things I said about my date,” I explain. “And you fit them all! Come with me to Genie’s tonight! Be my date. Be my revenge partner.”
Arthur’s entire face furrows. “You want me to help you get revenge on my cousin?”
“I...” My response trails off when my brain finally catches up with what I’m asking Arthur to do.
It’s one thing to help me pack my bags and let me stay in his spare bedroom.
It’s another thing to pretend to be in a relationship with me.
Even if Daren is the definition of a jerk, he’s still basically Arthur’s brother. Arthur’s not about to torment the guy for me. That’s got to be rule number one in the family bro code or whatever.
“Sorry.” My disappointment leaks out of me with a long sigh. “Forget I said that. Your height distracted me. I didn’t think about all the family stuff.”
Back to no date and no prospects. I sift through my limited knowledge of the men in town, trying to remember someone I might have overlooked in the past couple of days.
“Maybe...is Hank Weller single?” The owner of the local strip club is tall, I think. He’s also kind of the town pariah, but I never described my fake man as popular.
“No,” Arthur says, the single syllable an axe dropping on the neck of my one hope.
I moan to myself, pressing the base of my hands into my eyes until I see stars, wishing I could travel back in time and shove that little lie back down my throat.
“I’ll do it.”
I’m writhing under the weight of too much self-loathing to comprehend Arthur’s words at first. “Huh?”
When I let my hands fall, I find his intense stare trained on me.
“I’ll be your date.”