Ginger and I explore every room of the castle, and I’m relieved she’s so excited. Last night, I stressed she’d think the place was stupid and I’d think she had bad taste. I didn’t want our second date ending with me less obsessed with her.

Fortunately, I’m more obsessed than ever, and Ginger hasn’t tried running once.

We finish our tour around the castle at the deli where I order two roast beef sandwiches, drinks, and BBQ chips. We find a table away from the families and spread out our food.

Ginger smiles at me for a long time. She eats half her sandwich and wraps up the rest.

“For your kids,” she says and hands me the bag of chips too.

“You’re good people, Ginger Jones.”

“Keep those happy thoughts when I ask you my next question.” Ginger laughs at my frowning expression. “Your kids have different moms, right?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Why would I care?” she asks and moves her chair closer to mine.

“Then why ask?”

“I couldn’t figure how else to ask about your past lovers. After all, I told you all that shit about Madden.”

“You mean Goofy Hair?”

“Don’t be insecure about Madden,” she says, patting my hand. “No way did he piss me off as much as you do.”

“But did he make you soak your panties as much as I do?”

“Not even a third as much.”

Smiling, I lean over and kiss her head. “That’s what I thought.”

“So how long were you with baby mama number one?”

“Ella was a girl I knew from high school, but she dated some twat for years while I didn’t date anyone. One night at Rusty Cage, I hooked up with her, and we messed around off and on, but we weren’t together.”

“How come?”

“She was a loser. Though she had a nasty personality, Ella was hot and available.”

“And you got her pregnant,” she says in her grumpy tone I hate.

“That I did. Condoms are so important. Hell, I’m lucky I didn’t lose my dick to a weird vaginal fungus.”

“She sounds like a charmer.”

“She got pregnant at some point and said it was her high school boyfriend’s. Then nine months later, she has the kid and calls me up to say the baby isn’t white, so it’s not his and probably mine. So did I want to take a test?”

“I don’t know much about parenting, but I’m going to give you a little advice anyway. One day when you tell Alani the story of her birth, you’ll probably want to lie your ass off.”

“Yeah, no shit,” I say, laughing. “I tell Alani that her mom was sick and had to go away.”

“Go away where?”

“Her high school boyfriend moved to Florida, and she chased after him. Last I heard, he was in prison, but I don’t know what happened to her.”

“Did she ever have visitation?”

“No. she wanted the other guy’s kid and said she would have gotten an abortion if she thought it was mine. I think the dummy thought having a kid with the asshole would make him stop cheating on her. So, anyway, she had Alani, and I took the test, and she wanted to leave the hospital without the baby, so Child Services got involved. They gave me temporary custody until things were worked out. Before our first court date, Ella took off for Florida, and I eventually got sole custody. Ella made clear she didn’t want Alani, so I don’t expect to ever hear from her again.”

Ginger shakes her head. “You must have absolutely freaked when she called you out of the blue.”

“Fuck yeah,” I say, remembering that day and how I nearly didn’t take her call, “but I knew once she said the baby wasn’t white, that it was mine. Ella always said she made an exception for me when it came to fucking non-white guys.”

“Wow, racist charmer.”

“Yeah, but she was hot and easy. Since I couldn’t find a real girlfriend, I was really into hot and easy back then.”

“How come you couldn’t find a real girlfriend? Who wouldn’t want to hook up with this face?” she says, taking my jaw and wiggling it.

“I think the teacher thing messed me up. I didn’t trust women, but I’m also a mama’s boy, so I trust women too much. It made me misread women. I couldn’t tell who was good and who was bad. Of course, with Ella, it was obvious she sucked. I liked knowing where I stood with her.”

“Did you enjoying being a dad so much that you decided to go bareback with another winner?”

“I did like being a dad. Alani was so beautiful that I wanted her to be mine as soon as I saw her at the hospital,” I say, smiling at the thought of the first time I held my baby. “She was so little and had a head full of dark curls.”

Ginger studies my face. “You really are sweet sometimes.”

“Yes, I am, but you want to know about Makoa’s mom. It’s not quite as heartwarming as Alani.”

“Oh, boy,” Ginger says, losing her smile.

“Susan and I hooked up a lot for like a week. Then she said she wanted to work on herself, which I assumed was code for her being sick of my dick. When I saw her around town, she’d ignore me. Then she showed up at my house, crying about how she was pregnant and went to get an abortion but changed her mind and now wanted me to support her. Of course, I did because I’d had a girl get an abortion before Alani and I always wondered about that baby.”

“Did it ever occur to you to use condoms with these nutters?”

“I did with Susan. I usually did with Ella. I can’t remember the first girl.”

“All right. Continue with your Hallmark story.”

Smirking at her comment, I think back to those months where I didn’t know if I was having another kid or not. “Susan would go silent and refuse to take my calls. Then she’d call to say she was getting an abortion and hoped I understood. Twice, I thought she had gotten one. For a month in her early second trimester, she said she had an abortion. Then she turned around and said it didn’t take, so she wasn’t going to have another one. Then at seven months, she freaked out after a fight with her best friend, so she planned to go to a clinic in Kansas or something to get a late-term abortion. She hoped I wouldn’t be mad. I couldn’t get hold of her for weeks, so I again assumed she had gotten an abortion. I don’t know where she went during that time.”

“Did she want to be with you and all that drama was her way of getting your attention?”

“No, she’s just fucking nuts,” I say, sounding angrier than I intend. “I know she’s mental, but her parents took her to a doctor once and apparently he didn’t find anything wrong. I said she might want to see someone else to help with her mood swings, but she claimed it was only pregnancy hormones.”

“Did you even want her to have the kid when you saw how damn crazy she was?”

“Yeah, it was my kid. She showed me ultrasound pictures, and I thought about names. I got attached, but by the time she gave birth, I was exhausted from thinking the kid was dead and then he was alive and then he was dead. I ended up expecting the worst and hoping for the best.”

“What happened to Susan?”

“When Makoa was a month old, she dropped him off for his regular visit. She left a shit-ton of stuff, and I knew she wasn’t coming back for a while. Susan called days later, saying she needed to find herself and figure out why she struggled with happiness. She told her parents she wanted to travel and a baby would slow her down. Her parents asked for primary custody of Makoa, but the court ruled in my favor.”

“That must have cost a lot of money.”

“Not really. Family court isn’t too bad, and our club president was supportive. He said a man needs his kids, which was funny since he hated his kids.”

“Have you heard from Susan in the last nine years?”

“Every once in a while, she sends a postcard about how her heart soars when she thinks of Makoa.”

“That’s beautiful,” Ginger mutters.

“The kids have shitty moms, but they’re happy. Having my mom help raise them obviously made things easier for me. She gives the kids the tenderness they miss by not having a mom around.”

Ginger holds my gaze, and I notice an odd darkness to her eyes. “You’re a good dad.”

“Why did you say that in a weird tone?”

“I’ve seen fathers who were good dads until, you know, they weren’t.”

“Are you asking if I’m going to mess around with my daughter?” I ask, struggling not to lose my temper.

“No, but parenthood creeps me out.”

“It shouldn’t. Most parents don’t hurt their kids.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you looking at me that way?”

“I don’t know,” she says, and I swear she wants to move her chair back to its old spot.

“Yes, you do.”

“Fathers creep me out.”

“I don’t abuse my kids.”

“I know.”

Leaning closer, I whisper, “But you keep looking at me like I’m a freak.”

“Ignore it.”

“The idea of you thinking I would hurt my kid fucks with my heart. Don’t think that shit.”

“I don’t want to think it,” she says, now avoiding my gaze. “The thoughts pop into my head.”

“Then talk yourself out of thinking it.”

“I will.”

Scratching at my jaw, I need to punch something. I look around and find not a single viable target. Punching a tree might break my hand, and I really don’t want to explain to my mom how I knowingly busted my knuckles.

“Oz, I’m sorry. My brain is wired to think the worst of people.”

“Rewire it.”

“I said I’d try,” she mutters, clearly losing her temper.

“You knew I had kids, so why are you just now thinking about that shit?”

“You looked so sweet when talking about them.”

Frowning, I stand up for no reason and then sit back down. “So if I was indifferent to my kids, you’d be okay with me?”

“No, I’d think you were a dick.”

“There’s no winning with you.”

“No, so why do you keep chasing me? Is it just the fucking?”

The word “fucking” seems to echo, and everyone in a mile radius looks our direction. Ginger doesn’t acknowledge those eyes on us. She lives in her own world, and I don’t know why I think I can exist in her fucked-up life.

“Can we end the date now?” she asks, crossing her arms protectively over what she knows I crave.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so, and I’m the offended party. That means I get to decide.”

“Fine, but I’m ignoring you.”

“No, you’re not. I’m all you can think about. My sexy face, my sexy body, my sexy perverted fatherhood.”

Ginger rolls her eyes. “You wanted to date Ginger Snaps. Well, this is her.”

“Yeah, but I don’t mess with my kids. I don’t even spank them, though I’m a vicious bastard when it comes to grounding them from video games.”

I catch just the smallest of smiles at the corner of her full, lickable lips.

Poking her in the stomach, I smile. “You want me.”

“That’s been obvious for a while, dummy.”

“You need to fix your daddy pervert issue, so you can have me.”

“I’m capable of riding you without thinking about the daddy stuff.”

I lean closer and murmur, “Riding me is only part of what we can have.”

“Are we talking rim jobs here because I’m not doing that?”

“No, but thanks for making my dick hard after you ruined shit with that molesting daddy stuff,” I grumble and tug at the crotch of my jeans.

“Maybe if I call you ‘Daddy’ while I ride your dick, that’ll help with my problem.”

“No.”

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” she coos and gives me a sexy wink.

“No daddy stuff ever for any reason.”

“Now who has a hang-up?”

“You’re doing that bitch thing to make me not like you, but no dice, foxy lady,” I say, tapping her nose. “I’m on you like white on rice. Man, am I going to fuck you raw soon.”

“I feel like we’re going in circles.”

“No, we’re still focused on how you look at me and wonder if I mess with my kids.”

“I know you don’t.”

“But you wonder.”

“I wonder with every father. I’ve seen too much not to.”

“Well, I’m a great dad, and there’s no pervert shit.”

“I know.”

“Then stop looking at me like you want to call the cops.”

“I’d never call the cops if I thought you were messing with your kids,” Ginger says and wraps her hand around mine. “I’d hack you to death. It’d be cathartic for me. Less so for you.”

“If I ever did hurt my kids, you should hack me to death.”

“Then we’re on the same page.”

“You’re still giving me a weird look.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “Let me think of something to distract us. Hey, what’s the deal with your kids’ names?”

“My mother is Hawaiian, so I wanted Hawaiian names for my kids.”

“Your name isn’t Hawaiian.”

“My father liked the name, and my mom went along with it because he died and she wanted to honor him.”

“That’s classy.”

“Yeah, my mom’s very classy.”

“I get that Ella didn’t care what you named the baby, but Susan probably wanted to name her baby something less... original.”

“She said I could choose Makoa’s name because she felt guilty for telling me the baby was dead. Besides, I think she was already planning on running.”

“Makes sense.”

“When I knock you up, you’ll have to name the baby something Hawaiian, so it’ll match its siblings’ names.”

“No to all that,” she says and tries to let go of my hand.

I seize hers with both of mine. “You’ll be a good mother. I can tell.”

“No, you can’t. You just want to fuck me, and you don’t like condoms.”

“I’m telling you on my damn honor that I used condoms with Susan. I just underestimated the sheer power of my swimmers.”

“You must have put it on wrong.”

“I know how to put on a condom, Ginger, but I can’t control the ferocity of my sperm. They burst through the rubber and made Makoa.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“How would you know? I’m the one with the kids.”

Ginger laughs loudly, again drawing the attention of people she’s oblivious to. “I’ll put on the condom and double up my birth control. Might bubble wrap my uterus while I’m at it. I’ll keep your swimmers from finding their way.”

“If they sense your egg, nothing you do will keep them away.”

“I think I know how to keep safe.”

“How many romantic lovers have you had?”

“Two. Madden and you.”

“We aren’t lovers yet.”

“I still count you as a lover because I’ve thought about you while masturbating.”

“Shit, my jeans are strangling my dick,” I groan while tugging at my jeans again. “Damn, woman.”

Ginger smiles at my arousal, but I feel her holding back. She can’t stop seeing me as a man, and men are the enemy. I don’t know how spending a few happy hours together led to us feeling farther apart. What I do know is if Ginger runs, I will never stop chasing.