Chapter One
Lauren
Now...
I CHECK THE time on my phone and bite my lip, contemplating what to do. I take a deep breath and look around the restaurant, trying my hardest not to feel self-conscious about sitting alone—and about already finishing one glass of wine.
I shouldn’t be alone, though. But for the last fifteen minutes, I’ve sat here solo, stomach grumbling from the wonderful smell of Italian food being served around me, waiting for my date to show up. It’s not technically a blind date, since I’ve seen Gavin’s pictures before, but we’ve yet to meet in person. I met him on one of those dating apps, and I think I can recognize him from his photos. Well, if he ever gets here.
To be fair, I got here early. I get everywhere early. If I don’t, I panic. And yeah, I know the world won’t end if I show up late to dinner, but being late opens the door to a lot of other bad stuff, like people thinking I’m rude, losing my table … making others wait on me. Serious shit like that. I know, I need to lighten up a bit. I try. Really, I do.
But life is easier when things go as planned, when I can stick to a schedule. Life is hard enough as is. Why make it even more chaotic?
My stomach grumbles again and I’m tempted to pull the fancy white-cloth napkin off the basket of bread that’s been set on the center of the table. I inhale and lean back in my chair, feeling a bit woozy from the wine. I don’t drink very often because I don’t like the taste of alcohol, but a sweet bubbly wine like the one in front of me is too good to resist, and I agree to another glass when the waiter comes around.
I unlock my phone and text my sister, Katie, to tell her that my date hasn’t arrived and is officially ten minutes late. I’ll give him another ten then I’m paying for my wine and leaving.
And that it’s all her fault. She set up the dating app and made my account. She’s been with the same guy for seven years and is living vicariously through me, though the few dates she’s set me up on never amount to anything but an awkward goodbye.
Five minutes later, I’m scrolling through Pinterest to keep myself busy and I feel someone stand near the table. I flick my gaze up and see Gavin. And he does look like his photos, thank God. I take a quick second to take it in: he’s tall with broad shoulders, has a bit of gray peppered in his dark hair, and is well dressed. He’s attractive in a non-obvious way. I can handle this.
“Lauren,” he says with a smile.
“Yeah, hi,” I say back and stand. Should I shake his hand? Or go in for a hug? We’ve talked on the phone and via private message, but I’m far from being comfortable around him.
He decides for me and leans in, wrapping his arms around me. He squeezes me tight and I almost choke on the smell of cigarette smoke on his clothes. I internally sigh. I hadn’t thought to ask about that. Such a turn off.
“How are you?” he asks and releases me.
“I’m good,” I say. “Hungry. You?”
He laughs softly. “Hungry too. And sorry I’m late. The temperature dropped and I had to change my socks. It’s not cold enough for the wool ones yet, but cotton wasn’t cutting it.”
I take a step back toward my chair. “Uh, okay.” Socks. What?
He lifts up his leg a bit so show me his feet, which are covered in bright-red fuzzy socks.
“Cold feet run in my family. So do hot feet, which leads to sweaty feet. So I have to find the right balance with sock thickness.”
I just smile and nod. Yeah, that’s weird. Too weird? Weird enough to bail out the bathroom window? I sit down and tuck my brown hair behind my ear. It’s thick and doesn’t hold a curl very well, so I left it naturally wavy, with some hair product help, of course.
The waiter comes over to take Gavin’s drink order and to give us menus.
“Dinner is on me,” he says. “Order whatever you want.”
“Oh, thanks,” I say and feel a little awkward. I didn’t want to assume he was paying this whole time, but kind of thought he would since this was our first date and all. Fuck these social rules when it comes to dating. Why make an already awkward thing more awkward?
My phone buzzes on the table. It’s Katie asking if my date showed up. I pull my phone into my lap and smile at Gavin. We put in our order for dinner, and I get up to use the bathroom, texting Katie as soon as I’m out of eye sight.
Me: He went home to change his socks…because his feet were cold.
Katie: That’s why he was late?
Me: Yes. He’s wearing fuzzy socks. Fuzzy. Socks. What should I do?
Katie: Run. Probably has a foot fetish
Me: He’s paying for dinner. I think I’ll stay for free food lol. PS if he kills me and cuts off my feet, my death is on your shoulders. No big deal or anything.
She sends me a kissy face emoji. I only find the best for you, sis!
I smile and shake my head, tuck my phone into my cleavage, and use the toilet. I wash my hands, give myself a quick onceover in the mirror, and go back to the table.
“So, how was your day?” Gavin asks when I sit down. He’s gotten into the bread, thankfully. I grab a slice and butter it.
“It was pretty good. I worked, though. But I like my job.”
“And you’re a veterinarian?”
“I’m a vet tech.”
“Oh, right. Like a nurse to animals.”
“Yes, you can say that.”
He smiles. “I love animals.”
I smile back. That’s one of the reasons I agreed to meet him on a date. His profile said he’s animal lover. “Me too. Sometimes more than people.”
He laughs, flashing me a broad smile. Gavin isn’t a bad-looking man, not at all. “And you have a dog?”
“Two right now,” I tell him. “My German Shepherd is a permanent resident and I foster when I can.”
“That’s just great,” he says. “We had a dog when I was a kid. He was my best friend. He got hit by a car though, and Mom’s allergic so I can’t get another. But I still have Rufus.”
“You live with your mom?” I ask, before the tail end of his statement hits me. His profile said he was twenty-nine. Several years older than me, but the age gap didn’t seem like a big deal. And living with a parent wasn’t a big deal either. A lot of people live with their parents after college. I did for a year and a half until I had enough saved up to move out and not be strapped for cash. “Wait, you still have the dog? He’s still alive?”
“Oh no. He’s been dead for years. He’s stuffed.”
“That’s, uh, interesting.”
Gavin eagerly nods. “Taxidermy is a bit of a hobby. You could say Rufus got me into it. I wasn’t willing to let him go.”
“Mh-hm,” I say and squirm in my seat. A lot of people like taxidermy animals. They decorate their house with them, showing off game they caught and killed. A lot people might like that stuff, but I’m not one of them.
Thanks for this one, Katie.
“So,” I say. “What else do you do?”
“I like to build stuff.”
Building stuff is good. Manly. With tools. “What kind of stuff?”
“Right now I’m putting the finishing touches on an ice cream parlor to complete my village.”
I raise an eyebrow and reach for my wine. I have a feeling I’m going to need another glass—or two—to get through this date.
“It’s a dollhouse village,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve got three houses and a school completed.”
“Oh, uh, interesting.” Fuck a glass. I’m going to need a whole bottle. Nothing says serial killer like a foot fetish and hobbies that include posing dead things and dollhouses. I see it now: appearing on an MSNBC special, talking about my date with one of America’s Most Wanted, saying he appeared normal and I had no idea he was capable of murder.
Except I did, because I’m thinking that now.
I’m deleting the dating app the moment I get home. Katie, you were right, as usual. I should have run when I had the chance.
*
“It’s all right,” I soothe and run my hand over a growling cat’s head. “You’ll feel better once we’re done, I promise.”
The tabby is tightly wrapped in a towel as Julie, one of my co-workers, carefully extracts ticks from her front legs. The cat hisses at me in response and tries to get away. I hold her tighter against me.
“So the date was a bust?” Julie asks.
“Total bust.” I shiver at the thought. “He looked so normal online.”
“Honey,” Julie says and takes her eyes off the cat for a second to look at me. “You need to meet these men face to face. I didn’t meet my husband on an app.”
“Apps probably weren’t invented when you got married.”
“Hey now,” she says but smiles. “It’s only been ten years.”
I laugh. “I agree, and it was my sister’s idea,” I remind her. I’m twenty-two and in no rush to get married, but ever since my brother celebrated his one-year anniversary a few months ago, everyone else is in a rush to find me a husband. I’m the youngest of the three Winters children, and incredibly picky, according to my mother, who has set me up with countless different men, all sons of her church friends.
I’m selective when it comes to dating. I don’t want to settle, and I don’t see the point in seeing someone more than once if I don’t think it will lead anywhere. Yeah, I know what I want is probably unrealistic, but I blame Disney for putting the idea of Prince Charming in my head when I was a little girl.
But that’s what I want. Not an actual prince, but someone who treats me like a princess. And by that I mean someone who loves and respects me, someone romantic and reliable, who would go through hell and back to fight for my heart. Because I’d do the same for them. I want an epic love, one that can stand the test of time and a villain or two, and come out stronger in the end.
So while I wait for my knight in shining armor to come galloping in on a white horse, I’m focusing on my career, and waiting to hear back from the vet school I applied to, which doesn’t leave much time for love. And, right now, I’m okay with that.
“I think I’ll just avoid men for a while,” I say as Julie pulls another tick. “Or just find some to have fun with for one night.”
Julie straightens up only to double over with laughter. A few other techs look at us, wondering what is so funny.
“Oh please, girl,” Julie says and let out a breath. “You, have a one-night stand? Let me know when that happens because I don’t think I’ll live to see the day!”
“I’ll send you pictures.”
“Mhh-hmm,” she says and moves back to the cat. “Please do. I’ll need proof.”
“Oh come on, it’s not that hard to believe.”
Julie just laughs again. I shake my head and try to soothe the growling cat. I’m no prude, but I learned the hard way giving it up on the first date doesn’t lead to what I wanted for a second date. I want a relationship, not meaningless sex. Although, I do enjoy sex. Meaningless or not.
I don’t leave the clinic until nearly eight PM. The early March air is past chilly and back to cold. Frost glistens on the windows of my Jeep. Every spring, I wonder why the hell I still live in Michigan. I’m sick of the cold by now. I dig into my pockets for gloves, start the SUV, then start scraping away at the ice. We had a random few days of warm weather last week.
What a tease.
But that’s the weather near Lake Michigan for you. I check my phone while I wait for the car to warm up. I have a text from Jenny, my sister-in-law, asking if we are still on for a wine and canvas art event tomorrow. Katie, Jenny, and I try to do stuff monthly, and it’s actually really nice to have “sister night” every now and then, even more so now since Rachel, my childhood friend, moved to Dallas with her fiancé last summer. I have no one else to hang out with.
I reply “yes” to my sisters, test the heat in the Jeep to make sure it’s not blasting cold air, and head home. I live in an old, small house in quiet part of town. I have a living room, an eat-in kitchen, one bathroom, and two bedrooms. It’s tiny, but it’s all I need.
“Hey, guys!” I say when I unlock the backdoor and the dogs come running over, tails wagging so hard their whole bodies shake. “Sorry I got home so late. We had an emergency that I couldn’t leave.”
I drop to my knees, petting Vader and Sasha, the rescue. She’s not good around people, hence the fostering. I’ve had many dogs come in and out of the house over the last year, but there is something different about the stubborn mutt that made me keep her.
I let the dogs out into my small, fenced-in yard and start my after-work routine. I eat dinner, and take the dogs for a walk. We make it one block before I’m too cold so we turn around. Then I come in, shower, make a lunch for tomorrow, and watch my recorded shows until it’s time for bed.
Yeah, okay, my life isn’t super exciting. But it’s steady, and I like knowing what to expect. It’s safe that way.
*
“Just to warn you, you won’t have a brother much longer.” Jenny pours wine into three plastic cups and gives one to me and another to Katie. We are sitting in an art studio, waiting for the Wine and Canvas event to start.
“What did he do now?” Katie asks, bringing her cup to her lips.
Jenny reaches up, twisting her red hair into a bun, then secures with a clip. “He wants to get a motorcycle again.” She rolls her eyes. “It took me two years to get him to sell his old one. If he thinks he’s getting a new one, he’s got another thing coming.”
“Sounds more like someone has been hanging around with Noah,” Katie says with a smirk.
“Ugh, don’t get me started on him.” Jenny lets out a breath.
I arrange my paint brushes in a row in front of me, mind flashing to my brother’s best friend. They met sometime in high school and Noah was trouble from the start. After getting expelled at his old high school, he came to ours and hit the ground running, quickly earning the reputation of the bad boy your mother warned you about, a reputation he still carries with him today.
And my mother did warn me about him. She warned me to stay far, far away from boys like Noah. And even farther away from men like him.
He spent high school in and out of trouble, getting more detentions than anyone I knew, yet somehow remained the star of the football team. His track record isn’t as spotted now, but I don’t think it’s from learning his lesson, but instead by learning how to not get caught.
I haven’t seen him in a while, but he hasn’t changed much over the years. Except he gets better looking every damn time I lay eyes on him. Tall, with thick brown hair, sky-blue eyes, a stubble-covered face, tattoos, muscles, and a motorcycle … Men like him should come with a warning label.
Men like Noah Wilson are nothing but trouble.
I may or may not have had a secret crush on Noah since I was fifteen and saw his gorgeous face for the first time. Between my father outright forbidding Katie or me to so much as flirt with a boy like Noah, and Colin promising to make my life hell if I crushed on his friends—and do the same to them if they crushed on me—I watched Noah from the sidelines, dreaming about a day when the popular boy would take notice of the shy underclassman. Obviously that never happened, and I’ve let go of the idea of Noah wanting me.
“They’ve been going to the gym together every morning,” Jenny says. “Which is fine, Colin can stand to get in better shape, but why does it have to be with him, ya know?”
I smile and shake my head. “Good luck with that. I never knew what Colin saw in him. Well, other than being friends with the popular kid.”
“Just lay down the law,” Katie says. “No sex if he gets a motorcycle.”
Jenny diverts her eyes. “I thought about that, but that not an option.”
“Why?” Katie and I ask at the same time, our minds on a similar wavelength.
“We’ve been kind of trying for a baby,” Jenny says with a smile her on face.
Katie and I burst into excitement, then start bickering over who will be the best aunt.
“It’ll totally be me,” I say. “Kids love animals, and I always have animals. Plus I own every Disney movie and like wearing costumes.”
“But I’m the fun aunt,” Katie says. “I do fun shit all the time.”
“Your fun shit isn’t kid appropriate,” I tell her with a laugh.
“Guys,” Jenny says, still smiling. “Don’t get too excited. I have a few issues that might make it difficult anyway. Colin and I don’t want to get too excited just to be disappointed.”
“What kind of issues?” Katie asks.
“I have cysts on my ovaries and have never had a regular cycle,” Jenny says, her smile fading. “I’ve been on birth control to regulate things, but the doctor warned me it will make things difficult, though not impossible. I stopped taking the birth control, and we’re just seeing if it happens on its own.” The smile creeps back on her face.
“I think that’s reason enough to not get a motorcycle,” I say. “Just guilt Colin into leaving you widowed and pregnant.”
Jenny laughs. “Good thinking.” She shakes her head. “I’m really trying not to stress about it, since stress makes it worse. And,” she picks up her wine, “I’m going to enjoy this while I can. Anyway, how was your date last weekend?”
I raise an eyebrow then glare at Katie, who snickers. “There will not be a second one, I’ll leave it at that.”
“So you’re open to another date this Friday?”
“I think I’m done with the dates for a while.” Really, I’m done with the setups. Because I keep getting set up with people totally incompatible with me, and it’s starting to feel like there is something wrong with me personally when date after date after date ends with a big fat nothing.
“Then this is perfect! Just something fun, no pressure.”
“If he buys me dinner, maybe.” There is no denying I like a free meal.
Katie laughs. “You can almost always bribe Lauren with food, you know.”
“I’m starting to figure that out,” Jenny says. “But seriously. One of my co-worker’s friends just got out of a serious relationship and wants to get back into the dating world.”
“That doesn’t make me want to go out with him,” I confess. “I’m not a rebound type of person.” I consider it. “Or maybe I am.”
“It’s just dinner,” Jenny says. “I met him once. He’s tall, handsome, and just got hired at some big law firm. And I hear he’s great in bed.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “But I don’t hook up after one date.”
“But you’ll go to dinner with him?”
“Yeah, dinner.”
“Great!” Jenny takes out her phone and texts someone, presumably her friend to tell her I’m agreeing to go out with this guy.
“Then no more after this,” I say, talking to Katie, who enjoys playing matchmaker as much as she enjoys chilling and watching Netflix.
“It hasn’t hurt anything,” Katie says back. “And you’ve gotten to go to some pretty swanky restaurants because of it.”
“That is true. And it gives me a reason to buy fancy shoes. I like fancy shoes.”
“See?” Katie finishes her wine and leans back in her chair.
“Dinner and a movie Friday at seven?” Jenny asks me. Wow, that was a fast response. Is the guy that desperate? “You can pick the movie.”
“I do want to see The Last Ride,” I say. “You know I have a huge celeb crush on Aiden Shepherd.”
“Probably don’t bring that up,” Katie says.
“Oh please,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Like I’d even have a chance. Celebrities don’t date regular people.”
“Aiden Shepherd does,” Jenny says. She follows all that celebrity gossip. “He’s engaged and getting married this summer to some girl who’s not famous.”
“That’s not fair,” I grumble. Though I just like the characters played by the actor. I’m a sucker for a villain turned hero in fantasy series. “So tell me more about this guy I’m going out with Friday night.”