Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MOLLY

"You really do look beautiful tonight," Kyle repeats appreciatively as we walk to the outskirts of the ballroom together.

I know I do. Melissa's friend Fernando, while wildly eccentric—I mean, the man wore harem pants like he was starring in Aladdin —definitely knows what he's doing with hair. He only took off about two inches, but he spent ages cutting layers that make it look like my hair is in constant motion.

I don't know why I agreed to talk privately with Kyle, except I knew I couldn't stay near Blake for another minute. Against my better judgment, I want him for more than a friend. He's nice, intelligent, kind to others, sweet, and extremely good looking. The fact that he's determined for us to be nothing more than pals is really making me mad.

"What did you want to talk about?" I ask Kyle.

"I wanted to tell you again how very sorry I am about the way things ended between us. I've thought a lot about it and in retrospect I realize that we might have really been perfect together."

"Forgive me for finding that hard to believe, Kyle. You did cheat on me. "

"Which was a horrible thing to do. I think that things would have been different had we been living together. We would have seen each other more, and I would have been always thinking of us as a unit, not separate entities."

"A unit, huh?" That's probably the least romantic thing he could have said to me.

"You know what I mean. You were only in town for a couple weeks out of every month. It was hard to settle in with such limited time."

"You're an all-or-nothing kind of guy, huh?"

He shakes his head. "Not anymore. We really worked when we worked, Molly. I know I ruined that, yet I can't help but wonder what would happen if we tried again."

I glance over Kyle's shoulder and see Blake striding determinedly in our direction. I suddenly wonder if I could make Blake view me differently if he thought Kyle and I were getting back together. I know it's wrong to use Kyle as bait, but the man has some retribution due him, and I'm not opposed to helping the karmic wheel turn.

So as soon as Blake is right behind Kyle, I ask, "What did you have in mind?"

Kyle, who is unaware that we have company, answers, "I thought you might let me court you while we are here in Wisconsin together."

Court? Did my ex become a knight of the realm in the last few years? "Are you planning on courting other women, as well?" I ask.

That's when Blake decides to insert himself into the conversation. "Molly, I need to talk to you."

"What about?" Other women?

He nods to Kyle before answering, "It's a private matter."

Blake and I don't know each other well enough to have any private matters that need discussing so I can only assume my attempt to make him jealous is working. I tell Kyle, "I'll think about your suggestion and get back to you. In the meantime, my buddy here needs a word."

Kyle walks away sheepishly like a dog who's chewed up one too many slippers. And while I should appreciate his defeated posture, I find that I'm more interested in whatever brought Blake over to me. "What?"

"What do you mean, what?" he wants to know.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, that." Blake inhales deeply before saying, "I don't think you should spend time with Kyle."

"Why is that?" I cannot wait to hear how he answers.

"Once a cheater always a cheater," he says. "You'd never ever be able to trust him."

"What does it matter to you if I give Kyle another chance?" Come on, Blake, say it. Tell me that you want to date me. Tell me you want me for yourself so I can not be interested. As contrary as that sounds its' the only way I can think of to regain my lagging self-esteem.

His nostrils flare slightly before answering, "It doesn't matter except for the fact that you're my friend, and I'd hate to see you hurt."

"Why do you care? You don't even know me," I hiss.

"I know you're not a lumberjack," he jokes before adding, "I might not know you well, but you're the first person I met here. As such, I feel a certain investment."

I'm tempted to stick my finger down my throat and pretend to gag myself. But I don't. Instead, I ask, "Where's Krista?"

"I left her with Thor and his two lady friends."

"What's up with him tonight?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" Blake asks.

Stating the obvious, I tell him, "He barely even looked at me."

"Maybe you intimidate him."

"Oh yeah, I can see how all five-six of me might seem threatening to a man well over six feet tall." Sarcasm is my go-to at times like this .

"Not your height," Blake says. "More your …" he gestures in front of me like he's spokesmodeling a microwave, "… presence."

"My presence?"

"You're stunning. Some men are intimidated by that."

"He's used to being around actresses, Blake."

"Let's go get dinner and we can talk about it there."

"You want to eat with me?" I find this hard to believe. "I thought you had ladies to impress."

"Obviously," he drawls. "But I'd like to work out my game plan with you first. After all, you're a woman so you might be able to give me some advice."

"Yes, but I'm a single woman who's here hoping to meet single men," I tell him. "Why would I give up valuable time to help you?"

"Because I can give you some good tips," he says. "You know, like stay away from cheaters."

As annoyed as I am with Blake, I'm hard-pressed to walk away from an offer to spend time with him. Even though I don't believe in insta-love, I can't deny that I'm overwhelmingly attracted to the guy.

It's not only that he's handsome, either. I'm not quite that shallow. I like his energy, his smile, his … fine, I like how his butt looks in his jeans. "Let's go get our supper and have a talk," I tell him.

Blake leads the way toward the buffet, and I follow behind. Once we get our plates, we choose our food and then find an empty table to sit at. As soon as my napkin is in my lap, Blake looks down at my plate. "The first tip I'd give you is to avoid garlicky foods. You don't want to kiss someone with garlic on your breath."

I pick up the piece of garlic bread on my plate and take a giant bite. Then I glare at him the whole time I'm chewing. Once I swallow it, I inform him, "Good thing I'm not going to be kissing anyone tonight."

He eyes my bread longingly, so I offer it to him. After taking a bite of his own, he groans and then says, "That has to be at least as good as kissing. I'll go back and get us some more if we still have room after we're done eating." His easy sense of humor catches me off guard.

"What's your story, Blake?"

He shrugs. "Not much of a story. I'm just a single guy of a certain age wondering where my person is."

"You'd think you'd meet a lot of women at whatever coffee shop you work at." My left eyebrow quirks into a question mark.

"You'd be surprised how many women don't want to date the guy making their coffee," he says.

"There are a lot of women who don't judge a book by its cover." Also, if he was making their morning coffee at home, I'm sure there would be zero complaints.

"Do you judge a book by its cover?" he asks before stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork.

"I don't care what someone does so long as they're not breaking the law." I didn't mean to come off as quite such a goody two-shoes, but there it is.

"Darn it!" Blakes smacks the tabletop playfully. "I guess I shouldn't have been smuggling drugs for the Nicaraguans then."

"Ah, but you're not interested in me in that way," I remind him. Then I take my garlic bread back and practically shove the rest of it down my throat.

"You're not interested in me, either," he responds quickly. Then he gives me a challenging look as though his statement mandates an answer.

"No, I guess I'm not." Liar.

"So," he says, "Thor doesn't appear to be the guy for you, and clearly Kyle isn't. Who else are you interested in? Should we steal Ronald back from Olivia?"

"I think I'll let Olivia have that prize." I turn and look around the room, setting my sights on the first good-looking man that crosses my path. He's tallish and he has a short beard that hints at an air of mystery. "That one looks like a possibility. Maybe I'll go talk to him."

As I push out my chair to stand up, Blake does the same. "I'll go with you."

"What? Why?"

"I can ask some questions that you might be uncomfortable asking and then we'll have a better idea if he might be the one."

"I don't need you to interview my potential dates," I tell him.

Blake takes my hand in his and pulls me along. "You might not need me, but I could save you a lot of time, so let's go."

As I trip along after Blake, I can't help but wonder what he's really up to. If he isn't interested in dating me, which he lets me know often, then why in the world does he care who I set my sights on? Unless of course, he really does think of me as a friend and he's protecting me.

How depressing.