“And I’m an accountant. I don’t have my own house yet but I will soon. Mother tells me I need to get out on my own.”

I gave a polite smile and shifted in my seat, thinking it was the longest five minutes of my life. I was bored to tears. Not one of the last—three was it?—interested me. I couldn’t even remember their names. They’d all blurred into one dull, sorry excuse for a man, each one with copious amounts of faults that wouldn’t come out in the wash. And this was supposed to be a kick-ass place, or so I’d heard.

What was I doing here anyway? Lucia, my best friend and partner in my psychiatry practice, would have a field day if she knew that I had gone to a speed-dating event, but I had been back in Jupiter for nearly a year and it was time for me to branch out a little bit. It wasn’t as if I could date my clients, or get away with it like someone. Lucia had all the luck. So I resorted to getting dates the old-fashioned way.

One could argue that I would have better luck online, but I was too aware of the lies people spewed all over their online dating profiles. They wanted to show only the good sides of themselves and none of the bad… it was just too dishonest for my liking. At least when I’m sat in front of someone I can get a sense of who he is right away without having to fight through a layer of online misdirection.

It probably would’ve been fun to come together had we both been single, but Lucia was all wrapped up in her new life; what with her sinful-as-hell, hot, football husband and gorgeous little baby, Nora, who I spoiled unmercilessly. Not to mention all the new pro sports team clients she kept reeling in. I didn’t know how she did it. She was Wonder Woman and there I was feeling like a Marvel reject. So no, it wasn’t like I could drag her along with me.

A client who’d come in for her appointment, looking as if she’d seen the light, told me about this bar and it’s speed-dating weekly events, swearing by the process and how she had met her true love after her first husband had cheated on her.

I was a marriage counselor, after moving away from the children’s side of therapy and focusing on the things I could actually fix… Don’t get me wrong, working with children and helping them was a dream come true, but heart-breaking all at the same time. I needed a change from that and moved back to the adult side of therapy. The excuse came after my last practice out West ended bitterly, though not because of the work, more because of a lying-piece-of-shit of an ex, who also happened to be my boss. And so I made the move back home thinking it would be for the best. Left all the friends I’d made in college behind, and came back to a lonely existence in Florida. At least I had Lucia, though.

But right then, I could have killed that client of mine. It was far from what I’d call an enlightening experience… even the free drink was less than satisfying. And up to then I had met a reformed drug dealer (yeah, right) who had slipped me his card just in case I needed something to “take the edge off.” And then the dude who seemed like a real winner on the surface but peek underneath the polished exterior and one found a real momma’s boy, still tied to her apron strings.

No, I was never doing it again.

“Hey, buddy, move.”

I looked up into those warm, bright-blue eyes that I’d connected with a few moments ago. They were offset by a ruggedly handsome face and a strong jaw, dusted with dark stubble. Everything about him screamed trouble, with a capital T. But, I reasoned with myself, I was a huge fan of a strong jaw and stubble, especially when it scraped across my naked body.

Oh god, I was already thinking about sex! Had it really been that long?

But perhaps the evening was going to take a turn for the better? One could only hope. Maybe it was smart I’d put on those stockings after all.

He was dressed in a gray T-shirt and tight jeans, nothing special or fancy, but it seemed to fit his muscular form. I pegged him for the blue-collar type… one who smelled of sweat and sweet, addictive cologne. He was also tall and considering I was gifted in that area myself, it was a bonus I didn’t overlook.

I felt the corner of my lips smirk upwards. The night was definitely improving by the minute.

“Excuse me?” the accountant said, his name already forgotten, a flustered frown on his face. “You’re not supposed to do that. It’s against the rules.”

My rule-breaker shrugged. “I don’t care. It’s obvious the lady could not care less about what you have to say and you are going to bore her to death. I can’t be having that. So, hop to it. Get out of that seat. It’s mine now.”

The accountant looked over at me and I gave him a what can-you-do—smile, finding it amusing that this guy was so perceptive he could tell from across the room I was about to keel over and drown from the ongoing drone about tallies and taxes the accountant kept rattling off.

He was being horribly rude of course, but I couldn’t say I really hated the fact that he was breaking this up; I was intrigued with where this could head. I could already envisage my buried, wild side breaking free…

The accountant grumbled but slid out of the seat like a chastised pup and the rule-breaker took his place, a lazy grin on his face. By god he was hot and I felt the warm sensation of anticipation slide down my spine, accumulating in a pool of desire down below.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m Luke.”

“You do this all the time don’t you? Break the rules, I mean,” I asked, leaning forward on my elbows.

He grinned and shrugged. “Maybe. I go after what I want. And tonight that means you. Or does that bother you? Would you rather me call back the momma’s boy? He looked like a real winner, one you could take home to the parents. Safe and boring. Or do you want to be more than satisfied tonight?”

“No reason to be rude,” I bristled, frowning. Maybe I’d spoken too soon. He had to go and spoil all of what he had going on by opening his mouth and being a dick.

I wanted to slap him. The cockiness was off the charts with this one, thinking he was no doubt God’s gift to women—the only one who could light my fire. Way too alpha for me. Sure I longed for someone to go a little caveman in the bedroom, throwing me over his shoulder and fucking me against a wall… but he was laying it on way too thick. The accountant had been horrid, but he was only nervous, talking about what he knew to calm his nerves. I shouldn’t have been so hasty to judge him. So what if he lived with his mom? Maybe there was a perfectly valid reason for it… Hell, who was I kidding? He was a dud, there’d been no spark.

The bell sounded, but Luke didn’t move, instead he glared at the man who approached the table until he moved on. “Go on, fuck off.”

“Listen,” he said once we were alone. “You want me, I want you. It’s obvious. Let’s make it super simple shall we? Why don’t we blow this joint and go somewhere where I can give that lovely body of yours all the attention it deserves?”

Rude and crude.

Great, I’d hit the jackpot. It had been a while since I’d had a one-night stand, and by god the itch was aching to be scratched, but I didn’t want to give this ass the pleasure of knowing that. Instead he needed to be taught a lesson.

I gave him a dazzling smile, seeing the heat in his eyes. “What do you want to do to me?” I asked silkily, dropping my voice low and leaned forward.

His eyes roamed over the upper half of my body, my dress covering most of it with the exception of “V” that displayed my cleavage. I’d wanted to appear casual and confident but not sleazy, though by some of the other outfits in the place, I was way underdressed.

“I’m going to make you moan my name,” he said with a smile almost making me want to change my mind about him, but then he had to ruin it. He stared at my breasts then pinned me with his gaze. “Then I’m going to cum on your tits.”

I bit my lip to keep from slapping him. Asshole. He was only looking for one thing, just like I had pegged him for when he sat down. Being a therapist and around a wide selection of people day in and day out I found it easy to pick out the ones who didn’t care about anyone but themselves, and this guy, he was all in for himself. Fine I could play this game. He had no idea who he was messing with.

I ran my tongue across my bottom lip slowly then casually popped a button on the blouse of my dress, revealing more cleavage. He never took his eyes off me. He clearly thought he was onto a winner.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Knew you were the one the moment I laid eyes on you. So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

“Okay, but I don’t think I can wait,” I said with a breathy sigh, watching as his eyes lit up with surprise.

“Let’s go to the bathroom?”

I nodded.

He nearly upended the table trying to get out of his chair and I stood, giving him a coy smile as we walked past the rest of the speed-daters toward the back of the bar and the bathrooms. As I followed him I had to admit even to myself that he was damn fine; the outlines of his rippling muscles of his broad back could clearly be seen through his T-shirt… and lower down was no different—buns of steel would’ve been an understatement.

As we passed the condiment station at the end of the bar, I spied a squeeze-bottle of mayonnaise and swiped it without anyone seeing—especially not Luke—and tucked it into my bag. Really I could fit the entire bar in my purse, and had even packed a change of clothes just in case I got lucky that night. Yeah it was a bit presumptuous, but god I was aching for a good lay. But after meeting this gem of a man, there was no doubt that I would be going home alone. It was stupid to do it, to think I could find a decent guy there. Lucia was going to have a field day with this story if I decided to tell her.

He pushed open the men’s restroom door and held it open for me, allowing me to walk through. It was a one-stall bathroom and definitely a men’s room, the smell of vomit and piss hard to ignore—not exactly the Ritz. I heard him engage the lock and I turned to face him, glad that I had decided on my heels tonight, as we were almost eye to eye. “Well?”

“Well,” he replied, pushing off of the door. “Damn you look good.”

I could tell that he was hard, the bulge in the front of his jeans hard to miss and had he not been so crude, I might’ve considered taking him for a ride. But I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself afterward—even I, horny as I was, had standards. And if I examined my feelings deep down, I knew the last thing I was looking for this time was just a fling. I wanted what Lucia had found. And even if the way she and Jacob had come together was a bit unconventional, he’d turned into the perfect husband and father.

Stepping over a wad of tissue on the floor, I pushed him back hard against the door, brushing my lips over his. He smelled as good as he looked but soon, he was going to smell so much worse. “That’s fucking hot,” he said, his lips pressing the underside of my jaw. “I’m going to make a mess on you, baby.”

I squirmed against him, pressing my body against his hard on and tried to ignore the fact that my heart was racing. Stick to the plan, Cara. I was here to teach this guy a lesson, nothing more. My fingers delved into his wavy hair, long enough to nearly cover the collar of his T-shirt and pulled him against me, feeling his hands on my hips. “You better,” I whispered against his skin keeping up the pretense, taking my tongue and licking his jaw. “Or I will be very, very disappointed.”

“I won’t disappoint you, never in a million years,” he answered, his breathing becoming heavy as he reached for the hem of my dress, his fingers eager. I took one hand and boldly cupped him, feeling his heaviness as he groaned into my ear. Too bad he was such an ass. I would have liked to explore him a little more. As he inched up my dress with the full intention of stripping me and baring my breasts, I swirled around, my ass against his bulging cock and reached into my purse with the other hand, pulling out the mayo bottle I had swiped earlier. I wasn’t going to be the one who was a mess tonight. He clamped his hands upon my breasts kneading them, grinding against my body. He was too preoccupied to notice what I was doing.

“Luke, I have a better idea,” I said, turning back around to face him. He stopped and I stepped back, giving him a saucy smile. The grin on his face was priceless as I uncapped the mayo and started squirting, not caring where the gooey white tendrils went.

“Let me cum on you instead,” I said laughing as the mayo continued to spray on him.

His grin slid as he realized what I was doing. His expression was a picture and I was shaking with laughter, but managed to keep my aim. He held up his hands as he tried to block the steady stream that was covering his shirt and his jeans in an unmistakable mess. “What the hell?”

I reached for the lock with my other hand and threw it open. Luke was too stunned to do anything but move out of the way, the bottle still pointing in his direction.

My hand found the handle and just before I sent a parting shot at him I said, “Goodbye, asshole. Maybe next time you’ll think twice about being such a dick.” I threw the bottle at him and opened the door, walking out of the bathroom without a backward glance. That would teach him… but I doubted it would change his ways, a leopard never changed its spots. And instead this would just become some funny anecdote that he’d tell all his buddies. Either way, I’d managed to squeeze some fun out of the evening, I thought with a smile.

I passed the bar and locked eyes with the woman behind it. She’d been the one to tell me how the whole event worked when I’d first come in earlier full of nerves about it. Her eyes flickered to somewhere behind me and then she burst out laughing. I could only presume Luke had come out of the bathroom and was now standing covered head to toe in mayo with his mouth wide open in shock.

“Sorry about the mess,” I said to her, hoping that Luke would be the one to have to clean it up and not some poor staff member.

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it. It’s about time he got his,” she said still laughing, holding onto the edge of the bar for support. I gave her a grateful nod and made a quick exit.

It wasn’t long after that I was back home in my apartment. I’d decided to keep the one above our offices—hell it was a quick commute—and I really couldn’t be bothered to sublet it out. It was small with good bones—the wood floors were something I really liked—and though I would eventually have to move out if I continued to accumulate so much stuff, for now it would do. After all it wasn’t like I was with someone and planning on raising a boatload of kids there.

I threw the locks and leaned against the door with a sigh, took my heels off one by one and rubbed the soles of my feet. The speed-dating thing had been a mistake. Had I really expected to find Mr. Right at a singles bar? It turned out to be a big ol’ hookup joint with guys like Luke only looking for one thing. What happened to the chivalrous men, who wanted a happy-ever-after? Did they not exist anymore?

At least I gave it a try, though, I wasn’t one to shy away from new experiences. But I’d chalk the whole evening up as a bit of a disaster. Maybe I would try the online dating thing again, even with the downsides that came with it. I had to do something to get out of my drought.

I padded to the coffee table in my stockings where I’d placed my mail earlier. Most were bills with a few of my magazine subscriptions—I knew what I’d be doing later, reading them in bed with a glass of wine. I couldn’t let the whole of the evening go to waste. A white envelope was wedged between the power bill and my credit card bill and I frowned as I saw the writing.

It was addressed to me, with no return address and no markings to signify that it was another bill. I tore it open and pulled out a single folded piece of paper, opening it to see the scribblings of a child’s writing.

“Dear Miss Young,” it started. “I am writing to you because I am told that you are my real mom.”

My stomach dropped and I fell hard onto the sofa.

“Oh my god,” I said. My hands shook and the piece of paper slid out of my hands. Of all things I had expected it to be, I wasn’t expecting that.

I scrambled to pick the letter up off of floor, my heart hammering in my chest.

“I don’t know why you gave me away, but I want to meet you. Here’s my Little League schedule. I hope you can come.”

It was signed “James” and I placed a hand over my mouth. The tears began to well up in my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. After eight years of trying to forget the little, blue-eyed boy I had handed over to the nurse that day, it all came crashing back.

“You can’t keep it.”

“It’s not an it,” I said angrily, looking at my mom, my hands on my stomach protectively. “It’s a he and he’s mine, mom.”

The anger on her face was evident as she looked at my stomach in disgust. “God, Cara, you haven’t even finished high school yet. How are you going to support yourself? Do you think I’m made of money?”

I ran a hand over my stomach lovingly, feeling his strong kick in return. He had been a mistake. Lust had mingled with stupidity when my ex had convinced me not to use protection. That it would feel better if we did it that way. I should never have listened to him. But I had believed his false words that he was going to take care of me like he had promised. The moment that test was positive, he was gone, enjoying high school while I was forced to be homeschooled—my mother didn’t want anyone to know, the shame was too much—and deal with the stages of pregnancy. Even his family had said that they weren’t sure that their son was actually my child’s father and refused to offer any support or make him be in the baby’s life. I would be a single parent.

“I don’t know mom, but I can’t just give him up,” I said honestly, feeling the tears in the back of my eyes.

She sighed and sat on the couch next to me, looking older than I had seen her. I knew that I’d disappointed her by getting pregnant, ruining my chances in her eyes. But I wasn’t going to let this stop me. I was going to finish school and go to college somehow.

“I’m sorry, Cara. You really should think about adoption. I’m can’t and don’t want to raise another child.”

“But—”

“Do this and you will be alone. I won’t be there to support you, do you really want that?”

A tear fell on my cheek and I wanted nothing more to run away with my son. But my mom was right of course. I had no way to support myself, no way to give him the life he deserved. He would end up stuck in poverty with nothing to his name. I didn’t want him growing up like that, no matter how much it would break my heart to give him up.

“Fine,” I said, feeling slightly nauseous. “I’ll do it.”

I collapsed back onto the couch, tears streaming down my face. He wanted to meet me. My son wanted to meet me.

What on earth was I going to say to him?