Curves for the Single Dad

“Yep. Men love women with curves, whether a little bit of curve or a whole lot. Women rarely request a man who’s balding.” That teased a laugh out of Tara.

“Especially one too vain to just go ahead and shave it.” Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. “That was mean.”

“But justified,” I assured her with a smile. “Where did you find that winner?”

“Time for Love,” she admitted with a groan. “I didn’t even want to do this, but my sister bought me a gift certificate for my birthday and gave it to me in front of Eva, Sophie and Olive.” She picked up the empty wine glass, realized her mistake and put it back. “Where’s the user of that napkin?”

I flagged down our waiter and ordered two cocktails. “She bolted as soon as I told her about Lila.” As much as I wanted to be angry about Melanie because my little girl was incredible, she had done me a huge favor, considering the agreement I made with Eva and Sophie.

Tara’s eyes went wide with surprise. “She left because you have a child? Sheesh, what a biatch. Sorry, I guess I’m feeling testy tonight.” Her sheepish smile was endearing and at odds with the tough woman she was on a daily basis.

The drinks came about thirty seconds before the appetizers and I raised my glass, waiting for her to do the same. “To happy birthdays and getting rid of the wrong person before it really hurt.”

She flashed a soft feminine smile and laughed. “Cheers. I would be impressed by your toast, but like you said, words are your thing. I am however, very impressed by this drink.” Tara examined the soft yellow cocktail with flowers and fruit around the rim. “It’s perfectly fruity and frivolous. Perfect.” She took another sip and I caught myself staring a little too long at her pouty red lips. Who knew they were so lush and so plump?

“Well while you’re so impressed with me, let me take this moment to apologize for being a jerk the other day. I can get a little crazy when it comes to Lila.” Becca, my ex, often accused me of being overprotective.

“I don’t need your apology, Mr. Jacobs.”

“Chris,” I growled. “My name is Chris, and since we’re sharing a meal and not having a meeting, I’d like you to call me Chris.”

“Dinner? Have I agreed to dinner?” Her lips curled into a playful smile and I relaxed.

“Maybe not yet, but you will. Because I’m charming and not usually a jerk.”

“I don’t think you’re a jerk. I think you’re a man who thinks he always knows better, even when he doesn’t.”

Ouch. “Was I really that bad?” I was just trying to make sure my kid was safe. It’s my job and I take it seriously.

“I don’t know Chris. Do you really think I would let an eight year old handcuff me?”

“Okay, that was a little ridiculous,” I admitted even as my mind teased me with images of Tara in nothing but lingerie, handcuffed to my bed. “Maybe I did deserve the cold shoulder treatment.”

“Not the cold shoulder, just me choosing to keep those elements out of my life.” Her words were spoken plainly as if she’d just come to expect that behavior from men, which rubbed me the wrong way on her behalf. “Imagine Lila having to deal with behavior like that for the next, I don’t know, fifty years of her life.”

“I’d probably end up in jail.”

Her laugh was loud and genuine, giving her cleavage a little bit of bounce that left me momentarily mesmerized. “And seeing as it’s my job to enforce the law, that’s not an option.”

“Tell the truth, you wanted to punch that guy…just a little?”

Tara nodded. “Oh, more than just a little. But he’s not worth risking my career. I have plans that don’t include working security at the big box store off the highway.”

“Yeah? What are those plans?”

“I’m planning to take the detective’s exam next month. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Your secret is safe with me, but why is it a secret?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I just don’t want to say anything until the test is over and I have my results. It’ll be easier.”

I didn’t entirely believe her, but we’d just made nice and I didn’t want to push. Much. “Once you’ve passed you can just deal with that instead of planning for the future?”

Surprise flashed in her eyes. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Well good luck on the test, and whatever you plan to do after. Now, let’s dig into these fried raviolis before they get cold.” I’d written through lunch and I was too starved to wait any longer.

“Don’t mind if I do.” She grabbed one easily and popped it in her mouth. “Wow, these are incredible. Mushrooms?”

“Yeah, Melanie doesn’t ‘do’ shellfish.”

Her eyes went wide. “They have a lobster version?” I nodded and Tara grabbed the first server she saw. “Another order of these, but lobster this time please?”