She wiggles her brows. "Well, the silent types usually have a wild side beneath the surface. You could skip past all the dating and just go right in there for the time of your life. Maybe that's all you need."
I snort. "No thank you. I'd sooner poke my eye out then hit Ace up for anything."
She laughs. "He is hot though. Even you have to admit that."
Ace Henderson-detective, jerk, and moody asshole-lives right next door to me. He has that tall, dark, handsome, broody thing going on. Yes, Ace Henderson is fine. Any woman with two eyes and a beating heart would admit that.
He's also a prick.
"I never said he wasn't easy on the eyes, but no. Let's stick to your blind dates."
Taylor claps her hands together. "I'm so excited."
Lord help me.
* * *
This is a bad idea.
A really bad idea.
I should turn around and go home, right now, before this random stranger arrives. Maybe I can fake a stomachache, to keep Taylor off my back. I don't know what I was thinking. This could go wrong on so many levels. I don't know if I'm ready to meet another man, even if it is just to be friends. I fidget and stand awkwardly out front of the restaurant-slash-bar. I try to look inconspicuous, but I'm sure I stand out like a sore thumb.
The wind tickles my cheeks, calming me down. I focus on the couples sitting at the large outdoor tables, covered by big black umbrellas, and I feel at ease. It'll be okay. It will be great.
My phone buzzes in my purse, distracting the crazy mess of thoughts in my head, and with fumbling fingers I pull it out, seeing a text from Taylor flashing on the screen.
T: Don't even think about running, and no, your excuses will not work. This will be good for you.
Damn her.
She's a mind reader.
H: I hate you. If this date is a creeper, you're going to pay.
T: Love you!
Shaking my head, I tuck my phone back in my purse just as a smooth voice says, "Hartley?"
It's a nice voice. Masculine, thick and deep. I exhale, feeling a little better. I'm being overdramatic, I know this. I need to get myself together and relax. I won't enjoy myself if I'm wound up this tight. So I turn and gaze at the man behind me.
It takes all my strength to hold in my gasp.
For a few moments, I just stare. I'm not a judgmental person. I don't take people on face value and I'm certainly not shallow, but this man is a good fifteen years older than me. Taylor briefed me on this date, telling me Greg was only five years older than I was, so I know right off the bat he has lied.
I think that's what shocks me the most. Not that he's not my type, but that he lied. What else did he lie about?
This doesn't make me feel secure. At all.
In front of me is a man, well into his forties, with a balding head and not much else going for him. His sky blue eyes are surrounded by bushy brows, and he's slightly overweight, which shows in both his body and in his rounding face. He's wearing a pair of clean black slacks and a button-up gray shirt. At least he's well dressed.
"Ah," I finally squeak, trying to control my shock and find my manners. "Yes."
"I'm Greg."
Greg.
Don't be judgmental, Hartley. That's a fine name. At least he didn't lie about that. He's probably a really nice man, even if his smooth, masculine, sexy voice does not match him. At all. How does that happen? How can his voice scream sex god and be so completely off? God. What am I doing? I'm being a terrible person. I haven't even had a conversation with the man.
Perhaps he could make a good friend.
Yes. A good friend. There. I feel better now.
Kind of.
"Hi, Greg," I say, exhaling the breath I was holding in my lungs.
It was starting to hurt.
He smiles sheepishly, showing his straight white teeth. He seems like a nice guy, and my guard drops just a little. He's probably just nervous like I was, so I should go easy on him. "Look, before we go on, I'm sorry I don't really fit the description I listed on my profile. It's just really hard to find a date these days, people judge someone before they even meet them. I know I wasn't completely honest."
I'm that person.
Judgy bitch.
I need to give myself a solid talking to. I didn't even want to go on a date and now that I'm here I am judging this man because he's caught me off guard. I've barely let the man speak and I've already dismissed him. That's unfair.
I smile, even though I'm still a little uncomfortable. But it would be unfair not to at least have a drink with him. It won't take long, it's polite-the right thing to do, even. "Do you want to go inside and get a drink?"
He seems to relax a little. "Of course. After you."
I turn and walk into the bar, letting Greg follow behind. He's a little too close for comfort, but I don't say anything. I just sit down on a barstool, and he takes the one directly next to mine. If I study him, really look, I can see that in his younger days, he was probably a nice-looking man. Maybe even enough to match that voice. But age has clearly caught up with him. It seems like he's spent a lot of time in the sun, which has probably prematurely aged him.