11. Chapter Eleven #4
“I…” she trailed off, her smile going lopsided. “Yes. Hell yes. I’d love to.”
Fireworks went off in my gut. “You looked a little unsure for a second there.”
“Not unsure,” she said, licking her lips. “I was tempted to make a counteroffer.”
Her gaze flickered down the block, past the parking lot, and something not at all hidden flashed in her eyes. She’d been thinking, I realized, of whatever route led back to her place.
I’d been angling to keep the date going. She’d been considering whether or not to say ‘screw it’ and just bring me home.
Wow.
She took my arm. “For the record? That was a tough decision,” she said with a wink.
Something warm and bright spread through my chest. “If you’re still tempted later, I’d be happy to…”
Miki laughed. “Let’s get that drink, company man,” she said.
We fell into step together, arm in arm. After about half a block, I let my arm slip from hers, my hand going to the small of her back like it belonged there. She let me—she even relaxed into my touch, pressing her body against mine and resting her head slightly against my shoulder as we walked.
It was four blocks to the bar. Maybe a five-minute walk. Five minutes to another darkened booth, a couple of drinks, and the second half of a date that either ended with fireworks back at her place or still ensconced itself into my top five favorite nights even without me getting laid.
It was a straight shot. A bright, paved sidewalk.
And then we hit the landmine.
We were passing the big glass front of the steakhouse at the end of the block when the door swung open ahead of us, spilling warmth and light onto the concrete. A knot of customers stepped out onto the street, laughing and talking and checking their phones, and then—
“…Tom!?”
I froze. Because I knew that voice. I would’ve known it in a fucking nightmare.
Debbie was standing on the sidewalk directly in front of us.
She stared at me like I’d just come in late from work and forgot to pick up dinner on the way home. She wore the same outfit I remembered from the dinner party on Saturday, along with a little clutch purse that looked large enough to carry a cell phone and nothing else.
Then she looked at Miki.
Looked at me.
And it clicked. I watched the circuit close in her mind in real-time, the realization of why I was here and what I’d been doing hitting her like a punch in the gut. She actually staggered.
She’d just realized that her boring, dependable, harmless ex-husband was spending a night out on the town with a woman half his age. A woman who was, it had to be said, better looking than the wife who’d walked out on him.
I watched as everything she thought she knew about me went up in smoke.
And God help me, I kind of enjoyed it.
“Thomas!” Suddenly Kevin was there too, materializing at Debbie’s shoulder with a to-go box of leftovers and a smile. “What are the odds? Deborah, look at this! Small world!”
He already had his hand out to shake. I took it, matching the grip.
“Small world,” I agreed. Somehow my voice stayed calm and even.
Kevin glanced at Miki, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“We’re just finishing a little family celebration,” he said, gesturing back at the steakhouse.
“An engagement dinner.” He took Debbie’s hand with the one not holding the box, showing off a—I couldn’t deny—impressive-looking ring. “She said yes.”
Debbie’s mouth worked soundlessly, her mind refusing to catch up to the moment. “I was going to—”
“Savannah already told me,” I said, sliding an arm around Miki’s waist. Next to me, my date smirked like she knew exactly how much I was loving this. “Congratulations.”
Debbie didn’t look congratulated. She looked wrecked.
And then, before I could savor the look on my ex-wife’s face, the landmine went off.
Because the door of the steakhouse opened and the girl from the Armada’s bar walked out.
She wore a far less revealing dress than the one from the hotel, with a big coat on over top of it. She stared at her phone as she stepped onto the pavement, not looking up.
Shit, I thought. Please be walking way. Don’t look up. Don’t see us…
“Charlotte!” Kevin turned and gestured at the girl. “Honey, put the phone away! There’s someone I want you to meet!”
My heart skipped a beat.
Charlotte Beaumont stepped into the knot as Miki relaxed against me.
Charlotte Beaumont, Pastor Kevin’s daughter.
I watched her glance up from her phone, her gaze taking in Miki with practiced disdain—then she saw me.
For a fraction of a second, she was the same interested young coed she’d been at the Armada.
Then reality reasserted itself, she realized where she was standing, and she gave me a look like she could not believe what she was looking at.
Oh no. Oh Jesus…
“Tom, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Charlotte,” Kevin said, beaming with pride. “Charlotte, this is Tom Cottrell. He and Deborah…”
I didn’t hear whatever else Kevin was going to say. Neither did anyone else.
Because Charlotte looked into my eyes. Smiled. And said the two most terrifying words I’d ever heard.
“We’ve met.”