Always Room for Cupcakes (5 page)

Plastering a big smile on my face, I sashayed into the store, the bell dinging as I entered.

“Afternoon,” the man behind the counter said, and I turned my smile to him.

“Good afternoon, how are you on this fine day?” I asked, maybe a little too over the top.

“Better now,” the man replied, his grin kind of lecherous.

Tapping down the desire to throw up in my mouth, I leaned over on the glass counter in front of him, treating him to a gratuitous shot of my cleavage. He took the bait, getting an eyeful before bringing his gaze back up to my face.

“What can I do for you, beautiful?”

The will to roll my eyes was great, but I controlled it, instead answering coyly, “Well, I don’t know if you can help me or not … it’s kind of a long shot, but I figured, if anyone in this town would have what I need, it’d be you.”

He smirked, obviously enjoying the attention, and covered my hand with one of his.

“How about you tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll see what I can do.”

I stood up, pushed out my chest, and twirled a lock of hair around my finger.

“See, it’s my daddy’s birthday this weekend, and I wanted to get him something
real
special. He’s always worked so hard, and could never afford the things he wanted … He’s always been a big fan of those mobster movies, really liked the jewelry the men wear and stuff, so I thought maybe if I could find a ring or a pendant or something, he’d get a kick out of it. His name’s William, but he goes by Bill, so something with a W or a B would be just perfect.”

I pouted in what I hoped was a pretty way, puffing out my lower lip and looking up at him from beneath my eyelashes.

“I told you it’s a long shot…” I added, letting my sentence trail off as I ran a finger over my lower lip.

His eyebrows drew together, and I worried maybe I’d laid it on a little too thick and he was on to me, when he held up a finger and said, “Just give me a minute,” then disappeared into the back.

I watched him go then wandered over to the jewelry counter and leaned over, looking inside. If he was monitoring me from the back, I wanted him to think I was searching for a piece for my father.

A delicate emerald ring had actually caught my eye when I heard him coming back to the front. Tearing my eyes away from the pretty piece of jewelry, I flashed my teeth at him as he stopped in front of me.

I watched as he laid out a chain, which had a large oval pendant with a big W engraved on it. When he didn’t immediately put out anything else, I worried that he wasn’t going to show me the ring, then he said, “I have this necklace, and I also have a ring that you might like, but it’s a bit more expensive.”

He took my hand and turned it palm up, then dropped the pinkie ring inside.

I made a show of picking it up, looking it over, then placing it on my own pinkie and holding my hand up to look at it.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” I said, smiling up at him as if he were my hero. “How much is a
bit more expensive
?” I asked, keeping my tone cautious.

“Three hundred.”

Son of a bitch …
I sure hoped Moose would pay me back for this
.

“I’ll take it,” I replied, reaching for my purse. “My daddy’s always given me the best presents, now I want to give back.”

He smiled and rang me up, then placed the ring in a small box and handed it to me.

Before I could take the box, he grabbed my hand and asked, “How about dinner?”

I bit back a gag and replied sorrowfully, “Oh, I don’t think my boyfriend would like that too much.”

His face darkened, but before he could say anything, I yanked my hand out of his hand and said happily, “Thanks so much. Daddy’s going to love it.”

Then I got the hell out of there.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

The Douche
had picked up the kids an hour earlier, not saying a word to me, probably still butt hurt over yesterday’s exchange. I was curious over what
he
had to be upset about. I was the one who’d been told that all it took to get my husband to cheat on me was a stiff drink and some dirty talk.

As soon as I’d kissed my kids goodbye, I rushed to the shower and began the process of getting ready for my first date in over thirteen years.

I knew we were going to dinner, but I wasn’t sure where, so I went with a short-sleeved, cobalt-blue jersey dress that matched my eyes perfectly, and would be appropriate whether the restaurant was casual or fancy.

I used light makeup, just enough to highlight my features, and styled my hair in long, loose curls. I’d thought about straightening it, but ran out of time shaving every hair known to man off of my body. This took long enough to be embarrassing.

Now I was ready, heels on, clutch in my hand, and waiting nervously for Cade to arrive.

I heard footsteps falling on the outside stairs and had to concentrate on my breathing so I wouldn’t hyperventilate.

I bit back a squeak when the pounding started on the door and looked out the peephole.

Holy shit
, he looked good.

I took in as much of him as I could through the tiny circular window. Motorcycle boots, dark jeans, and a red and black button-up shirt. His hair was down and I could see it had some curl to it, the dark tresses kept back off his face and falling to his shoulders, and his beard looked groomed.

When he knocked again, I realized I’d been staring through the peephole long enough for him to get impatient, so I stepped back, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

His gaze started at my feet and slowly worked its way up, so by the time his eyes met mine, I felt like I’d just been given a full-body caress.

Jesus!

“Hi,” I said, my voice coming out a little breathless from his perusal.

“You look gorgeous,” was his reply, which caused me to grin broadly.

“Thanks, so do you.”

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” Then I looked down at myself and asked, “Will this be okay for the bike? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to wear pants…”

Cade gave me a half grin and shook his head. “No, I wanna keep you safe, so that precious skin needs to be covered whenever you’re on my bike,” he said, pointing down at my bare legs.

“Oh, I thought … since you said you wanted me on your bike, that meant…” I stopped talking at his knowing grin, and realized I’d just repeated what he’d said verbatim. Great, now he probably guessed I’d been replaying that little scene over and over in my head.

“I just meant I wanted you with me,” he corrected, causing a nice tingle to run through me. “And you don’t have to worry about it. I figured you’d dress up, so I brought my truck.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, pleased by his thoughtfulness, then stepped out and locked the door behind me.

As he pulled away I found myself looking at his large hands on the wheel. He was a big dude, probably somewhere around six foot three or four. Everything I’d seen about him so far had been large. His hands, his feet, his biceps. It made a girl wonder…

“What are you thinking about?” Cade asked with a deep chuckle, startling me out of my perusal and making my cheeks turn red.

“Um, I was just wondering where we’re going,” I lied through my teeth.

Rather than calling me on it he replied, “That Italian joint on Sixth.”

“Mmmm, I love that place.”

“Good.”

I took in his jeans and button up, thought about it for a minute, then said softly, “Although, I think they require a jacket and tie.”

Cade just smirked as he looked out at the road and said, “Don’t worry about it, darlin’.”

I decided to take his advice and not worry. I was going to be the new and improved Delilah Horton. Who dated hot, burly men and lived life without being so damn cautious.

When we arrived at the restaurant, Cade put his hand at the small of my back as he ushered me inside, which I had to admit, I really liked. I also noticed that every female from ages five to seventy noticed us walk in, and had their eyes glued to Cade. This, I wasn’t so sure I liked…

“Two for Wilkes,” Cade said when the hostess asked how she could help. When she immediately led us back to our table, proving Cade was correct and something as insignificant as a
dress code
wasn’t going to keep him out.

Thinking I just may be out on a date with the coolest guy I’d ever met, I smiled to myself as I picked up the menu and looked it over.

“What’s the smile?” Cade asked.

I looked over my menu at him and replied honestly, “I’m just happy to be here … with you.”

That earned me a sexy grin.

“Good,” he replied, as the waiter stopped to get our drink order.

Guinness for me. Whiskey for Cade.

“I would have guessed you for a wine drinker.”

“I like wine,” I replied with a shrug. “But sometimes it goes to my head. With Guinness, I can keep my wits, while still enjoying a good drink.”

“You don’t want anything going to your head?”
God, it should be a sin to look as delicious as he did.

“I think you’re potent enough,” I admitted with a laugh. “Since this is the first date I’ve been on in over thirteen years, I don’t want to get bombed and embarrass myself.”

“Thirteen years?”

“Yeah, my last date was with my husband, before we got married.”

“When’d you get divorced?”

“Ten months ago.”

“And there’s been no one since?”

“No. And honestly, we hadn’t been with each other,” I cleared my throat and continued softly, “
Intimately
… for a few years prior to the divorce. I guess I was upset, then bitter, and now, well, I hadn’t received any offers I was interested in … until yours.”

I felt his hand hit my bare knee under the table and give it a little squeeze, which made me wonder,
how freakin’ long are his arms
?

“Well, if it makes you feel better, this is the first date I’ve
ever
been on.”

If I’d had something in my hand, I would have dropped it. As it was, I felt my jaw hit the floor as I asked, “Say what?”

“I’m not the kind of man who plans picnics and sends flowers,” he said, squeezing my knee once more. “I’ve never taken a chick to the movies or out to dinner, unless it was my mom or sister.”

“How’s that possible?” I asked, not meaning to be rude, but honestly wondering how a man like him had never been in a relationship.

“Honestly,” he said, eyes on me, face totally serious, “I’ve spent my adult life focused on other things. There’ve been women, all of them willing. They knew the score. It was just about fucking…”

I bit back a flinch at his brutal honesty, not really knowing how to respond.

“
Oh
,” was what I came up with.

“Yeah,
oh
,” Cade said, his smile softening his face, then gestured between us. “This is different for me, so it’s kind of good that you’re out of practice. Maybe you won’t realize right away when I fuck up.”

That made me laugh, then I asked, bewildered, “But why? I’m just a thirty-five-year-old single mom, who lives in a shitty apartment and takes pictures of people doing shit they’re not supposed to.”

“And that all works for you,” he said, leaning forward, then sitting back when the waiter served our drinks and asked for our order.

Once he walked away, assuring us that our order would be up soon, I took a sip of my perfectly chilled beer, then focused back on Cade.

I was a little freaked that he’d chosen me for his maiden voyage into dating. It was flattering, a little scary, and, frankly, a huge turn-on. Although the fact that he’d previous only been with women for
fucking
wigged me out.

He’d probably be a master at it, and not only had I not had much practice, but one dirty talk from Slutty Shirley Finkle had been enough for my husband of twelve years to jump ship. I was terrified that I’d be a disappointment if Cade and I ever got to that point.

“So, what exactly happened?” Cade asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“With what?”

“With your ex … and how’d you end up working for a PI?”

I settled back and said, “Well, they kind of go hand in hand. See, I found my husband cheating on me and even though my kids were in the car and I was beyond shocked, I had the forethought to snap a picture with my phone before I left him and immediately filed for divorce.” I cleared my throat and hoped he didn’t think I was a psycho, before going on. “Then, in a fit of rage and humiliation, I printed up copies of the picture and posted them all over town. Moose happened to see one and found out it was me who took it and why, then he offered me a job.”

I looked up to see if he looked completely disgusted, and was surprised to see him grinning over his glass of whiskey.

“I think I saw that … Was it the beaver shot with the dude that looked like he was about to be murdered?”

“Yup, unfortunately, that was my ex … and yeah, she was pretty hairy.”

“Looked like a fuckin’ angry hedgehog.”

I almost spit out my beer, but luckily got it down before I started laughing out loud.