The Introvert's Guide to Online Dating (The Introvert's Guide 1)

“What happened? Did a cover bend?”

“Probably, knowing them.” He shrugged one shoulder. “So I said I’d bring them over. What the hell are they doing in there?”

“They’re having a clay class. And making inappropriate body parts.” I shuffled back into the main area with my coffee. “I think I’m done here for the day.”

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Colt asked, following me.

I nodded. “Mom had something come up, so she asked me to come. Third time this month.”

He joined me on the sofa, setting the bag of groceries down on the table in front of us. “Sorry. She’s been flaking a lot on you lately.”

I made a noise that I hoped was a sign of agreement. My relationship with my mother was somewhat contemptuous, as was hers with Grandma. While I thought my grandmother was absolutely batshit crazy and we bickered sometimes, I loved her, and the only time I’d missed a visit with her in two years was when I was on vacation.

My mother, on the other hand…

“You can tell her no, you know.”

I peered at Colton. “Of course I can tell her no. But if I do, Grandma will miss seeing one of us, and I can’t upset her like that. It’s not fair on her.”

“It’s not fair on you to pick up the slack because your mom is a flake either, Tori. You have a life and a business to run.”

“All right, Dr. Phil, calm down.”

He stifled a laugh. “I’m just saying that if you want to talk, you can talk to me.”

“Colton. We don’t talk.”

He met my eyes, a smirk tugging his lips to one side. “All right, if you want to feel better…”

I shoved him away. “I’m absolutely fine. I’m just a few hours away from sending this website to my client and I have to meet with Piper to discuss branding for the bakery, so standing in for her is really annoying.”

Wait. That sounded bad.

“Not that I don’t like seeing Grandma. I do. She’s crazy, but it’s always fun to spend time with her, and I don’t resent that. I’d just prefer at least three hours’ notice as opposed to fifteen minutes.”

“I understood. Don’t worry about it. You’re allowed to be resentful.”

“Ugh. Stop being nice to me. I don’t like it.” I finished my coffee and stood up. “Say something shitty instead.”

“Can’t. You haven’t pissed me off.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” he agreed, getting up. Colton glanced around and, when he saw the coast was clear, leaned in. “What are you doing tonight?”

I knew where this was going.

“Colton…”

“Come on. Nobody suspects a thing. Go finish your website, call Piper, and come over later.” His voice was low, his tone serious in that sexy way that pissed me off because I liked it. “You know you want to.”

I did want to.

And that, my dear reader, was the fucking problem, wasn’t it?

Let’s think about it for a second.

I could stay at home, eat ice-cream, and watch bad porn while using my vibrator.

Or I could go to Colton’s in the dead of night like an axe murderer, sneak inside, and have mind-blowing sex in a random spot in his house.

It really wasn’t a hard choice.

I sighed heavily. “What time?”

“I can come to you.”

“Genevieve hates you,” I reminded him. “Unless you want her to scratch a hole in your shirt again…”

He shuddered at the memory of my usually exceptionally docile Ragdoll cat attempting to kill him. “You’re right. My house it is. Although that’s getting risky.”

“You’re the one who insists on this silly charade continuing.”

“Tori.” Colton leaned in so his face was barely a breath away from mine. “You screaming in my ear while you come over my cock is hardly a charade.”

I stepped back, putting some necessary distance between us before I did something stupid like jump on him in public. “That’s enough. Someone will hear.”

“Ten o’clock?”

My nostrils flared. Damn it. “Ten o’clock.” I shoved my empty coffee mug at him and walked off to the craft room. “Grandma, I have a meeting. I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“Look at my penis!” She held aloft a clay penis that still had its abnormally large head. “Do you like it?”

“Very art deco,” I replied dryly. “Do you need anything? I can drop by again later if you do.”

“No, dear, I’m fine.” She got up out of her chair and embraced me. “Thank you for coming. You don’t have to do it every time your mother bails, you know.”

The lump in my throat felt stifling as I returned her hug. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“I know. You’re a good kid. You don’t deserve her as a mother.”

“Grandma! You can’t say that about your daughter.”

She held me at arm’s length and, looking me in the eye, said, “I can say what I like. She’s my daughter. And I’m old and a little crazy. Nobody cares what I think.”