Ten
SMITH
Even though I’d rather spend the rest of the day riding Elise, I have to jet to meet the plumber, roofer, and electrician I lined up special for her reno, and I don’t have the proper clothes for the job.
I take a quick shower, then throw my still-damp clothes back on and trot out to the parking lot.
It’s not even nine a.m. yet, so I have time to stop by my house and change.
“Smitty?”
Shit. I did not think I’d run into Parker this early in the morning on a weekend. Figured he’d still be sleeping for sure.
“Hey,” I say, scrubbing a hand over the back of my neck as I walk to my truck, praying he doesn’t remember what I wore last night.
“You still wet from last night?” he snickers.
Double shit. He definitely remembers.
“Uh…” I stammer, not wanting to out my relationship with Elise.
“Dude.” He hisses, long and low. “You bagged the MILF!” He lifts his hand for a high-five and I half-heartedly oblige, feeling lousy even as I do it. “You fucking go!”
I purse my lips and pray Elise didn’t hear that.
“It’s not like that, man.”
Parker tilts his head like a damn Labrador retriever, and I squint to hold in my eye twitch. I love the guy, but sometimes he’s about as mature as a fucking ninth grader.
“She’s not just a MILF, dude. She’s…” I pause, searching for the exact right description of Elise. I don’t want to say too much and sound corny, but honestly, I almost blurt out The One. Mercifully, I stop myself in time. “She’s amazing.”
“Dude. You’re like…you’re like gone already. What the fuck…” He shakes his head. “I never thought I’d see the day. And then a hot mom strolls in here and you’re all ga-ga.” He claps me on the back, and I kind of want to die on the spot. I shift from foot to foot, wishing I’d snuck out earlier.
“Word of advice, though—you’ve got to be careful. Sure, she’s hot and seems really cool. But she has kids, man. You’re not going to be able to just hit that and bounce. All I’m saying is take things slow. No rush, you know?”
Now I’m taking relationship advice from this guy? Parker Montgomery possibly has the worst dating track record south of the Mason-Dixon line. He’s in no position to be dishing out any type of advice.
“Thanks, Parks, I appreciate the pep talk. And I’m well aware of the perils of dating a single mom. Anyway, I gotta run. I’m meeting the subs over at her house in less than an hour and would love to not be wearing a damp dress shirt.”
“Gotcha. See ya later? I’m assuming you’ll be swinging back by here, to see your woman?” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I somehow resist the urge to punch him.
“Probably. I’ll keep you posted.” I hop into my truck and rev the engine, eager to escape the conversation.
Much as I hate to admit it, though, Parker does have a point. Ironically, the same point Elise has been hammering home — she’s complicated. Raw. Newly divorced, with two young kids. She and Parker are both correct; I should run, not walk, away from this situation.
But there’s something about Elise I can’t let go, and it’s not just physical. Ever since she wandered into the dive bar, she’s all I can think about. Would it be easier to cut and run now? Hell, yeah. But I know deep down there’s no going back.
I’ve had a taste of Elise and I want more. Worse, I think I might want forever.