The Single Dad (Red's Tavern 4)

I spent a couple of minutes glancing over the clues and open spaces, a few answers floating into my head easily. I reached over the bar to grab a pen from on top of a receipt, scrawling in some letters.

We worked on the puzzle, we talked, and the hours melted away. Luke seemed more comfortable opening up a little now than he ever had before. He started to tell me about his teenage years, right before going off and joining the marines.

“This was the first tattoo I ever got,” he said, lifting up the bottom of his shirt and showing me a small compass tattooed right over his hipbone. “It’s pointing north, because I wanted to always remind myself to look up, in life. Look forward. So fucking cheesy.”

“I don’t think that’s cheesy,” I said. “I kind of love that, actually.”

“I’m glad I didn’t get some guy’s name tattooed on me, at least,” he said. “The first man I ever kissed worked in that tattoo shop.”

“You’re kidding,” I said. “How old were you?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“You definitely are telling me, now,” I said.

“No, because it’s going to give you ammunition to make fun of me forever, and I don’t need that happening.”

I snorted, thwacking him on the shoulder. “Tell me. How old were you for your first kiss, Luke?”

He glanced up at me, his sleepy eyes looking a slight bit amused mixed with ashamed. “I was eighteen,” he said.

A slow smile spread over my face. “Eighteen.”

“Stop, while you’re ahead, and do not make fun of me.”

“Why the hell would I make fun of you for that? That’s adorable.”

He rolled his eyes. “And now you’re calling me adorable. This is a nightmare.” I saw a rare blush come over his cheeks.

“You’ve called me adorable before.”

“Of course,” he said. “You are adorable. But I’m…”

“What? A rugged, dirty, filthy man?”

“I hate you,” he said, but I could see the hint of a smile on his face.

“You don’t hate me at all,” I said, reaching over and stroking my fingertips along his jaw. “You love this.”

“Watch out, or I’m going to bite those fingers,” he said, his voice low.

“I hope you do.”

“Damn,” Sam’s voice came from behind the bar. “If this is a not-date, then I want to go on a lot of not-dates, too.”

I pulled my hand away from Luke’s face, shaking my head. The front doors of the tavern swung open, and when I glanced outside I realized the sun had set. It was dark out, and we’d been here for hours. I never usually lost track of time, but when I was with Luke it was easy.

A big group of women walked in, talking and laughing and having a good night.

“They look like they’re having fun,” Luke said.

My heart stopped when I saw who was at the back of the group. It was Rachel, dressed in a nice purple dress I’d never seen before, flanked by two other women. She didn’t see me as she walked over to a big booth in the back with her friends, but she knew damn well that my brother worked here at Red’s Tavern.

Rachel had texted me earlier, saying that the kids were going to their grandma’s house tonight. But I had no idea it was so that she could have a night out at Red’s.

“What’s up?” Luke asked, clearly sensing the tension I felt.

“Oh! This is the group coming in from the app,” Sam said.

“What?” I asked.

“The BackOutThere app. They called in a food order an hour ago.”

“Christ,” I said, furrowing my brow. “Is anybody in this state not on that stupid app?”

I had no clue that Rachel had been on there. And now she was here, in the same place where I’d just been mindlessly touching Luke’s face.

“We should head out,” I said, pulling out some cash to drop on the bar top.

“What? We’re having fun,” Luke said. “I was just going to order another round.”

I shook my head. “I’m getting tired.”

A deep wave of guilt passed through me. I knew I had every right to be out having a good time. I knew Rachel wouldn’t even judge me for it. But it still somehow felt like so much, so soon. It did look like I was on a date. And no matter how much I enjoyed Luke’s company, I wasn’t ready for the world—or my ex-wife—to think I was dating already.

I stood up.

Luke glanced over to the table of women and then back to me. “You don’t want to be seen with me, do you?”

The guilt twisted inside me again, this time for a whole different reason.

“No, of course it’s not that,” I said. “It’s… I’m not ready for any of this. My ex-wife is at that table.”

A look of understanding passed across Luke’s face. “Okay. Let’s get in the truck.”

In another minute we were outside, piling into the cab of Luke’s pickup, clicking on our seatbelts. He was silent, not saying a word as he put the key in the ignition and the truck rumbled to life.