The Boy on the Bridge
I grab the door and we head inside.
There’s one person ahead of us, but the shop is otherwise empty. I’m not paying much attention at first, but then I take a closer look.
The back of that head looks awfully familiar. My gaze drifts to his heavily inked arms, which I also recognize.
“Ray?”
He turns around, his stoic expression easing into a more pleasant one at the sound of my voice. He flicks a glance at Anderson before his gaze lands back on me. “Hey, Riley.”
Some of my grumpiness dissipates. “Are you here for a sandwich of the day, too?”
Ray shakes his head. “Just picking up a couple of steaks. Thought I’d surprise your mom with dinner when she gets home from work.”
“That sounds nice,” I say, glancing over at Anderson as he steps up beside me. He looks at Ray like he wants an introduction.
He and Ray haven’t met yet, but the mood I’m in right now, I’m not exactly eager to introduce them.
“What’s up?” Anderson asks casually, nodding his head.
Ray eyes him up but doesn’t respond. Instead, he says to me, “This the Scorpio?”
Anderson darts a questioning glance my way. “The Scorpio?”
“Zodiac sign,” I explain, without really explaining.
This doesn’t clear anything up for him. “I’m not a Scorpio. I’m a Libra.”
Ray emits a low, unimpressed-sounding murmur.
Anderson’s gaze snaps to him, then back to me. “I’m lost.”
I don’t loop Anderson in. Instead, I tell Ray, “He’s not the one who sent the flowers. The Scorpio is someone else.”
“You figured out who sent you the flowers?” Anderson asks, understandably curious.
That’s another question I don’t feel like answering, so I make an introduction that turns awkward fast. “This is my… Anderson. This is Anderson.”
The faintest glimmer of amusement passes through Ray’s eyes, but I only notice it because I know him a little better. When he turns his gaze on Anderson, it’s hard and entirely unamused.
“Her boyfriend,” Anderson says flatly, thrusting his hand out.
Ray doesn’t look altogether convinced or interested in shaking hands, but after a couple seconds, he decides not to leave Anderson hanging and gives it a firm shake. “Ray.”
“Ray is my… well, my mom’s—”
“I’m Riley’s father,” Ray supplies, cutting me off.
My eyebrows rise sharply in surprise, but I can’t deny a little burst of happiness I feel hearing him say that. “Ray is my mom’s boyfriend. He’s a little crazy,” I state good-naturedly.
Ray releases Anderson’s hand and shrugs. “We’ll get married eventually, figured I might as well start claiming you now.”
The man behind the counter places Ray’s order on the counter. “Anything else I can get you today?”
Ray reaches into his back pocket and draws out a wallet, but then he looks over at me. “Go ahead and order, I got it.”
“Oh, I’ll pay for her,” Anderson interjects. Then to the guy behind the counter, he says, “We want to get two orders of the sandwich of the day.”
The man shakes his head. “Sold out. Sorry.”
On one hand, I’m disappointed. I really wanted that sandwich.
On the other hand, I’m in a bad mood, and I really want to bail on this date. I think I just found the perfect excuse.
“Aw, that’s a shame. But you know what? Actually, Ray, you probably need me to get into the house, right? You don’t have a key, and Mom’s not home yet, so I’ll have to let you in.”
Ray meets my gaze, catching on quickly. Thankfully, he plays along without hesitation. “That’s right. It’s a good thing I ran into you.”
I nod, so relieved that I forget I’m annoyed at Anderson and shoot him an apologetic smile. “Maybe we can grab a sandwich tomorrow.”
Anderson does not look remotely pleased. “I can’t tomorrow, that’s why we made plans today.”
“Oh. Right. Well, another time.”
The awkwardness is palpable as we all stand here, Anderson put out that I’m ditching him and only barely pretending to be bummed about it. Me, I just want to get the hell out of here, so I ignore the tension and look to Ray for help.
No more interested than I am in sticking around and soaking up the discomfort, Ray looks at the meat packed up on the counter, then asks the butcher, “Can I get one more of those? Turns out my daughter will be home for dinner, after all.”
Chapter Seventeen
Riley
Ray doesn’t say anything as I slide into the passenger seat of his car. He doesn’t ask about the awkward way I just dropped my boyfriend or my clear desperation to get away from him. Ray knows if all he needed was to be let into the house, I could have just given him my house key.
Hell, he was locked up for breaking into someone’s house—I don’t even know if he needs a key to get past a front door.
But he doesn’t ask, and after being grilled by Anderson, I deeply appreciate it.