“No… mumble…” he cursed again.
This time, I tugged on his leg to get him out of the cupboard. “Out!”
He unfolded himself from where he’d been lying and propped himself up on his elbows. There was a smudge of paint over his left eyebrow, the same snowy white as the streaks in his steel gray hair. He was only thirty, but like his dad, his dark hair had lightened to salt and pepper when he hit puberty. His gray was as much part of him as his gorgeous eyes, and yes, I stared at him a lot.
When he wasn’t looking of course.
“What were you trying to say in there? Did you find something?”
“No.”
I sighed with relief. “So, what was all the mumbling about?”
“I can’t come over tonight,” he admitted, and couldn’t quite meet my gaze.
“What? Why?”
Wait, could I even ask that question? That wasn’t the kind of thing a boss asks the man who works for him, right? Arlo was under no obligation to spend time with me, but on the weekends when I didn’t have my girls staying, he would always come to my place on a Friday. We’d have beer, and he’d stay over in my spare room after we’d talked until late.
It was our thing.
“Are you okay?” I placed a hand on his knee to let him know I was there for him. He moved his knee, shrugged my touch away, and I wasn’t stupid, there was something off about all of this. “Are you ill? Shit, is something wrong with one of your brothers?”
“No, and no.” Arlo shimmied up, then leaned against the sink cupboard. “It’s just, I have this thing.”
“What thing?”
He stared at me and seemed to be steeling himself to give me bad news, so I sat my ass on the floor and crossed my legs. It couldn’t be too awful because, yes, he seemed distracted, but not completely miserable, so my first guess was it had something to do with his brothers—they were the only reason he’d skip what had become our regular thing. Although, why would any of that affect our standing date-slash-non-date, I didn’t know.
“What thing?” I repeated and poked him to encourage a smile.
He wouldn’t quite meet my gaze, and again, he moved away from my touch. That never happened—Arlo was a big cuddle monster, a soft bear of a man who was tactile and open with his feelings. His heart was so pure, so freaking full of love that sometimes, he couldn’t even contain it and would hug me so hard I couldn’t breathe.
He bit his lip, a typical Arlo habit when he was stressed. This was at odds with him saying everything was okay.
“Ihaveadate,” he blurted in one long run-on sentence, then dipped his gaze, and I swear his face was scarlet.
I slowed down the words to parse their meaning.
I. Have. A. Date.
“You’ve got a what now?” I asked after a pause; not sure I was hearing right.
He cleared his throat and, at last, held my gaze. For a moment, I was lost in watching him tug at his gray hair and seeing the uncertainty and nerves in his intriguing gray eyes. “A date,” he repeated in a softer almost apologetic tone.
Of all the things he could tell me, why was it something that was going to make me spin out?
Since when did Arlo date? He’d told me point-blank that being responsible for his two younger brothers, plus working for me, was enough without contemplating dating. I’d taken that at face value and almost settled into that sweet spot where we could be friends and I could lust from afar, ignoring the unrequited everything I had going on.
The last thing he needed, or should expect, was for me to ask why he was going on a date. Don’t ask. Don’t freaking ask.
“Why?” Shit. I couldn’t help myself.
He shot me one of his affectionate, patient smiles. One of the cute ones that made his eyes sparkle with mischief. Or something.
“Just because…” He sighed. “Sutton left for college, and now… I’m ready to move on. I need to date.” He stared at me.
I tried to read his expression and the determination in his tone. “Date,” I repeated.
A familiar smile teased his lips. “Trace downloaded this app thing, and I swished or swiped or whatever, and then, someone matched me, so I’m meeting this guy called Wilton tonight.” In one sentence, he threw open all my tightly checked emotions and ripped apart my ordered world.
Apparently, he was ready to date.
Date other people.
RJ Scott, author of M/M romance.
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
Blurb
Miracle (Single Dads 7)
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