Reaper's Fall
Page 95
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“You look great!” Sherri said, pulling her up and swinging her around. “Why are you all dressed up? Do you have a ball to go to?”
“Nope, Daddy’s gonna teach me how to shoot a bow and arrow,” she said proudly. “I’m all ready. He says a girl needs to know how to defend herself in this world.”
“He’s weaponizing the child?” Jess asked in a low voice. “Why am I not surprised by this?”
I nodded, wishing I had a bow and arrow. I wasn’t quite sure who I’d rather use it on—Jessica or Painter.
Or maybe Sherri.
I just hoped I wouldn’t need to use it on Aaron.
WEDNESDAY NIGHT
“Are you sure it’s okay?” I asked Loni. “I feel weird asking you to watch her while I’m on a date, because tonight was supposed to be about work. I don’t want to impose on you.”
Loni rolled her eyes.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Reese has some club thing happening, anyway. He won’t be home until late. And I’m happy you’re going out—you’re young. You should be having fun, and you know how much I love playing grandma. And Reese will probably get up early with her and make pancakes. Definitely a winning situation for me.”
That made me smile, because for a man who complained so much about being surrounded by girls, Reese was suspiciously available whenever I needed a sitter. Izzy had him wrapped around her little finger and she knew it.
God help me once she was a teenager.
The roar of a Harley came from outside, and I shot Loni a quick look.
“Was Reese coming over?” I asked. She shook her head.
“Painter?” she suggested.
“I’m not expecting him.”
“Daddy!” Izzy shouted, running into the living room. “I can hear his motorcycle.”
She jumped up onto the couch and looked out through the front window. “That’s not Daddy.”
Leaning over her, I peered out to see Aaron—my date—climbing off a big, black Harley.
“Ah crap,” I muttered. “He’s a biker.”
Loni and I shared a quick look. She knew all about Painter’s “no bikers” rule, although she thought it was bullshit. I knew this because she’d told me more than once.
“They’ve got a club thing tonight,” she said quickly. “You should be just fine.”
Hopefully.
Aaron rang the doorbell and I went to answer it, forcing myself to smile. This whole thing felt awkward and uncomfortable, like I was lying to him. The pleased look on his face didn’t help, either.
“You ready?” he asked. “I brought my bike—the ride up to Callup is gorgeous this time of year. We’ll stop along the way and eat dinner at the Bitter Moose. Have you ever been there?”
“No,” I admitted. “Never even heard of it.”
“You’ll love it,” he said, and something about his tone put me off. Maybe it was the way he didn’t even bother to tell me what kind of food they had, or ask if I wanted to go. “And afterward we’ll hit a party with some of my friends. You look great, by the way, but I think you should change.”
“Thanks,” I said, glancing down at my skirt. Appreciate the warning ahead of time, asshole. Ugh. Now I was just being bitchy—most girls would be thrilled to have a guy show up on a motorcycle. For all I knew, Sherri had told him I loved bikers. “Um, I’ll be right back. This is Loni, she’s kind of like . . . my mom, I guess. And my daughter, Izzy.”
Aaron knelt down, looking Izzy right in the eye. “Your mom’s friend Sherri told me all about you. She said you like pink things. I brought you something.”
With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little stuffed unicorn with a fluffy pink mane and tail.
“It’s beautiful!” Izzy sighed, reaching for it. Aaron winked at me, and I felt my snit evaporate, along with my doubts.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. “Izzy, what do we say?”
“Thank you!”
Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
• • •
Aaron had been right—it really was a perfect evening for a ride, and the trip over Fourth of July Pass into the Silver Valley was stunning. Despite my misgivings, the date was going well. Better than any I’d had in a long time. I still wasn’t feeling the same kind of instant chemistry with him that I felt with Painter, but whatever. No man’s perfect.
We’d arrived at the restaurant—which was really more of a pub than anything else—at seven thirty and had a decent dinner. The Bitter Moose wasn’t anything fancy, but the place had plenty of atmosphere. Sort of like one of those historical theme restaurants, but this was definitely the real deal. According to the article printed on the little paper menus in the center of each table, it dated back to the gold rush days, when it was a brothel. Later it was a hotel and now the owner lived upstairs.
By the time we finished eating it was nearly nine. The lights had dimmed and the music had gotten louder. Several couples got up and started to dance. To my surprise, Aaron convinced me to join them. It wasn’t all hot and intense and sweaty like a real club, but it was fun and when I checked the time a whole hour had passed.
“You want to take a break?” Aaron asked. I nodded. “Water or something heavier?”
“Water’s great.”
Our waitress had already cleared away our plates, but she’d left the water at the table and I took a deep drink, appreciating how low-key the date was. Felt good to relax. Aaron seemed less chilled, but he smiled enough that I decided not to worry about it.
“Nope, Daddy’s gonna teach me how to shoot a bow and arrow,” she said proudly. “I’m all ready. He says a girl needs to know how to defend herself in this world.”
“He’s weaponizing the child?” Jess asked in a low voice. “Why am I not surprised by this?”
I nodded, wishing I had a bow and arrow. I wasn’t quite sure who I’d rather use it on—Jessica or Painter.
Or maybe Sherri.
I just hoped I wouldn’t need to use it on Aaron.
WEDNESDAY NIGHT
“Are you sure it’s okay?” I asked Loni. “I feel weird asking you to watch her while I’m on a date, because tonight was supposed to be about work. I don’t want to impose on you.”
Loni rolled her eyes.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Reese has some club thing happening, anyway. He won’t be home until late. And I’m happy you’re going out—you’re young. You should be having fun, and you know how much I love playing grandma. And Reese will probably get up early with her and make pancakes. Definitely a winning situation for me.”
That made me smile, because for a man who complained so much about being surrounded by girls, Reese was suspiciously available whenever I needed a sitter. Izzy had him wrapped around her little finger and she knew it.
God help me once she was a teenager.
The roar of a Harley came from outside, and I shot Loni a quick look.
“Was Reese coming over?” I asked. She shook her head.
“Painter?” she suggested.
“I’m not expecting him.”
“Daddy!” Izzy shouted, running into the living room. “I can hear his motorcycle.”
She jumped up onto the couch and looked out through the front window. “That’s not Daddy.”
Leaning over her, I peered out to see Aaron—my date—climbing off a big, black Harley.
“Ah crap,” I muttered. “He’s a biker.”
Loni and I shared a quick look. She knew all about Painter’s “no bikers” rule, although she thought it was bullshit. I knew this because she’d told me more than once.
“They’ve got a club thing tonight,” she said quickly. “You should be just fine.”
Hopefully.
Aaron rang the doorbell and I went to answer it, forcing myself to smile. This whole thing felt awkward and uncomfortable, like I was lying to him. The pleased look on his face didn’t help, either.
“You ready?” he asked. “I brought my bike—the ride up to Callup is gorgeous this time of year. We’ll stop along the way and eat dinner at the Bitter Moose. Have you ever been there?”
“No,” I admitted. “Never even heard of it.”
“You’ll love it,” he said, and something about his tone put me off. Maybe it was the way he didn’t even bother to tell me what kind of food they had, or ask if I wanted to go. “And afterward we’ll hit a party with some of my friends. You look great, by the way, but I think you should change.”
“Thanks,” I said, glancing down at my skirt. Appreciate the warning ahead of time, asshole. Ugh. Now I was just being bitchy—most girls would be thrilled to have a guy show up on a motorcycle. For all I knew, Sherri had told him I loved bikers. “Um, I’ll be right back. This is Loni, she’s kind of like . . . my mom, I guess. And my daughter, Izzy.”
Aaron knelt down, looking Izzy right in the eye. “Your mom’s friend Sherri told me all about you. She said you like pink things. I brought you something.”
With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little stuffed unicorn with a fluffy pink mane and tail.
“It’s beautiful!” Izzy sighed, reaching for it. Aaron winked at me, and I felt my snit evaporate, along with my doubts.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. “Izzy, what do we say?”
“Thank you!”
Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
• • •
Aaron had been right—it really was a perfect evening for a ride, and the trip over Fourth of July Pass into the Silver Valley was stunning. Despite my misgivings, the date was going well. Better than any I’d had in a long time. I still wasn’t feeling the same kind of instant chemistry with him that I felt with Painter, but whatever. No man’s perfect.
We’d arrived at the restaurant—which was really more of a pub than anything else—at seven thirty and had a decent dinner. The Bitter Moose wasn’t anything fancy, but the place had plenty of atmosphere. Sort of like one of those historical theme restaurants, but this was definitely the real deal. According to the article printed on the little paper menus in the center of each table, it dated back to the gold rush days, when it was a brothel. Later it was a hotel and now the owner lived upstairs.
By the time we finished eating it was nearly nine. The lights had dimmed and the music had gotten louder. Several couples got up and started to dance. To my surprise, Aaron convinced me to join them. It wasn’t all hot and intense and sweaty like a real club, but it was fun and when I checked the time a whole hour had passed.
“You want to take a break?” Aaron asked. I nodded. “Water or something heavier?”
“Water’s great.”
Our waitress had already cleared away our plates, but she’d left the water at the table and I took a deep drink, appreciating how low-key the date was. Felt good to relax. Aaron seemed less chilled, but he smiled enough that I decided not to worry about it.
