God, I feel like crap.
Lifting my head from the pillow, my initial thought was that I must have the flu. Then I remembered the bottle of wine I’d polished off last night with Simon. I groaned as I reached for my phone from the nightstand and squinted at the time. 8:45!
“Shit!” I jumped out of bed. Brendan was going to be late for school. Darting across the hall to my son’s room, I whipped the door to his bedroom open and found it still dark. “Brendan! Get up, buddy! We’re late.” Flicking on the light, I was surprised to see an empty bed, so I checked the bathroom before heading to the kitchen.
A shirtless Simon was standing at the stove. With just the flick of his wrist, he flipped a pancake over in the pan, before turning to see me.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Good Lord, the man had some body. Smooth, tanned skin, chiseled abs that looked like they belonged on a magazine cover, and a deep-set V that made it rain inside the desert of my hungover mouth. Jesus—I don’t remember men looking like that. Not in real life, anyway. I had to look away. But taking in the rest of the room just added to the strange scene. Music was playing from the countertop kitchen speaker. Brendan was beating a drum on the table with one hand and finishing up his breakfast with the other. Simon pressed a button on some contraption on the counter, and a loud whirring sound blared for a minute. Then he poured whatever he’d made into a glass and turned to me. “Juice?”
“What is that thing?”
“It’s a juicer.”
“Where did it come from?”
“I brought it in. I like fresh juice in the morning.” He winked. “Plus, I thought you might be needing some extra Vitamin C and potassium this morning.”
I took the glass from Simon’s hand, while he spoke to Brendan. “Go get your backpack, kiddo, or we’re going to be late.”
Brendan took off running. “Late?” I was so confused.
“For school.” Simon plated the pancake and set it down on the table. He then pulled a bottle of Motrin from his scrubs pant pocket and pointed to the chair. “Sit. Eat. I’ll drop Brendan off and be back to clean up before I go to the hospital.”
I was still sitting at the kitchen table when Simon returned from dropping Brendan at school. He leaned one hip against the counter and folded his arms across his chest—which was, unfortunately for me, now covered with a shirt.
“Thank you so much for covering for me this morning. I can’t believe I overslept. I didn’t even hear my phone alarm go off.”
“That’s because it didn’t.”
“It didn’t? How do you know?”
“Because I turned it off last night before you turned in.”
“Why did you do that?”
Simon shrugged. “So you can sleep in.”
“Well, thank you. It’s been a really long time since I did that. And, God, it’s also been a really long time since I had a hangover. That wine really went to my head last night. I hope I wasn’t talking your ear off or anything. To be honest, it’s all a bit fuzzy.”
Simon took my empty plate to the sink. “Not at all. We had a nice chat and then you went off to bed.”
I sighed. “Oh, good.”
“After you read me your book.”
I froze. “What?”
Simon chuckled and put his hands on my shoulders. “Relax, luv. I’m teasing.”
“Thank God.”
He went back to finish loading the dishes. I didn’t have the energy to even offer to help. Plus, when he bent over in his scrubs, I could see the muscles in his ass flex. I might have been hungover, but I wasn’t blind.
When he was all done, he swung a chair around backward and straddled it at the table. “So, tell me your criteria for a bloke?”
“What?”
“Our double date.”
Crap. I’d forgotten all about that conversation last night. It was the wine talking. And maybe a bit of jealousy watching Simon go out on his date, too. “I’m not ready for that yet, Simon.”
He squinted. “I don’t believe you. I think you’re just afraid to get back in the saddle.”
For a guy I’d only known for a week, he’d figured me out pretty quick. Although I wasn’t about to admit that. “I’m not afraid.”
“Good, so it’s settled then.” He pulled a folded-up piece of paper from the chest pocket of his scrubs. “And here’s my wish list.”
“Your wish list?”
“For my fix-up. I thought you’d like some guidelines.”
I unfolded the paper. He’d written out a checklist of about five sentences. “They’re not in any particular order.”
His chicken scratch was barely legible. “Do they teach you to write like a seven year old in medical school?”
“Give me that. I’ll read it to you.” He reached over to take the paper from my hands, but I pulled it out of his reach.
“I’m a nurse. Just give me a second, and I’ll decipher it. It’s part of my job, apparently. Let’s see. Number one—no Pomeranians.”
Simon elaborated, “Better make that no little dogs, in general. Do you want a pencil to take down notes?”
I laughed. “No, that’s okay. I think I can handle remembering. No cute dogs as animal soulmates. Got it. What’s next? Let’s see. Number two—Apple bonnet?” My brows drew together.
Simon corrected me. “That’s apple bottom. I like a full rear. I was going to write badunkadonk, but I wasn’t sure how to spell that.”
“You want me to check out a woman’s ass before I fix you up?”
“Oh, come on. You women are always sizing each other up.”
“We are not.”
“Sure you aren’t. Go on, read number three. I don’t have all day. I have to get to the hospital and save lives like a superhero.”
“Number three—must like the outdoors. Well that one is a reasonable request.”
“All of my requests are reasonable.”
I ignored him in favor of continuing with his list. “Number four—must dislike Celine Dion.” I looked up at him. “What’s wrong with Celine?”
“She annoys me.”
“Her singing?”
“Nope. Just her, in general.”
“You’re bizarre, Simon Hogue.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Alright, what’s the last requirement? Let’s see, number five. No starfish.” I scrunched up my nose. “What do you have against starfish? They’re so pretty and harmless.”
Simon chuckled. “Not the marine echinoderm. A starfish. You know…” He leaned back from the chair, balanced on his ass, and spread all four of his arms and legs wide. “A woman who spreads her arms and legs during shagging and doesn’t get into it. She just lies there like a starfish. They’re usually silent, too.”
“Are you joking?”
“I wish I was.” He pointed to the paper. “Make that number one on the list if you’re prioritizing. It sorta freaks me out.”
Simon stood and looked at his watch. “Gotta run. You going to make me a list, or do I have carte blanche.”
“As amusing as I find your list, I’m really not ready for a fix-up yet.”
Simon smiled from ear to ear. “Carte blanche, it is.”
I was really doing this.
Exhaling, I waved to Brendan after dropping him off at my mother-in-law’s. It had taken a few weeks to find a night that both Simon and I had off for this double date.
Was I crazy for letting him set me up blind?
I’d chosen an acquaintance from the yoga studio for Simon. Her name was Leah, she was around my age, and was the only single person I knew in town. Her job in finance kept her pretty busy, and she’d always put her career first. But I remembered her telling me that she was looking to get into the dating game, although not looking for anything serious or to really settle down. And I knew that was what Simon wanted. In all honesty, I hadn’t bothered to check off any of the other criteria on Simon’s list. I’d felt funny asking her the animal question. And how on Earth was I supposed to ask her if she was a “starfish” in bed?
For all I knew, she had probably met Simon before, since he’d gone to visit Calliope at the studio in the past. All I’d told her was that my roommate was a hot, British doctor nearing thirty and that I was looking to set him up on a blind date. She jumped all over that without questioning anything else. I probably would’ve done the same.
Each of us would be arriving separately to the restaurant on Federal Hill, an area of Providence known for its fine Italian dining. Simon and Leah would be coming straight from work, and I would be heading straight there after dropping Brendan off.
I spent the ride from North Kingstown to Providence obsessing over whether or not this date was a good decision. I suppose it was too late for that to matter, in any case.
My roommate had given me no details about my date, so I was definitely on edge by the time I pulled up to Il Forno Ristorante.
I remembered Simon saying he had made a reservation.
“Hi, do you know if someone named Simon Hogue checked in? Tall, blond, British accent…”
The hostess grinned and grabbed a menu. “Yes. He did. Right this way.”
He’d picked a really nice place. The lights were dim, and there was someone playing piano. Simon and another man were sitting at a table in the corner. When I got a look at my date, my spirits dampened immediately. I never considered myself a superficial person, but there just wasn’t an iota of attraction for the man sitting across from Simon.
There’s still time to turn around.
They both stood up as I approached.
Too late.
Give him a chance.
“Bridget, glad you made it in good time,” Simon said.
I nodded. “Simon.”
To make matters worse, Simon looked absolutely gorgeous in a fitted, ribbed sweater and dark jeans as his manly scent wafted in the air and floated right between my legs. It was hard not to compare the two guys.
“I’d like you to meet my good friend, Dr. Alex Lard.”
I held out my hand. “Hi, Dr.…Lard.”
Lard? Like the grease.
What a name.
“Please, call me Alex.”
“Alex.” I smiled. “Good meeting you.”
He let out a single cough. “The pleasure is all mine.” He coughed again.
Simon gestured to the seat. “Let’s sit, shall we?”
Alex Lard coughed another time before sitting down. Was this a nervous habit, or was he ill?
Either way, this was going to be a long night.