Page 74 of Can't Win 'Em All
“And how are you going to do that?” I was honestly curious.
He shrugged. “I guess we’ll both get to enjoy the process.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means that I want to be more than just your baby daddy. I get why you’re leery, though. I haven’t exactly proven myself to be a standup guy where you’re concerned.”
I was already shaking my head. “You’ve been great, Rex.”
“Not really. I needed time to think at the start. I don’t always think things through before I do them and the one time I should’ve been impulsive and followed my gut I didn’t. I made you tell our parents too.”
“You were still kind of in shock at that time.”
“I don’t need you to make excuses for me.” His eyes were intense as they locked with mine. “I just want you to know that I’ll be starting my full court press today.”
“I don’t know what that means. You know I’m bad with sports analogies.”
“It means that I’m going to prove to you that I’m worth dating.”
“It’s not that you’re not worth dating—” I was silenced when his finger landed against my lips, which resulted in a glare for him.
“This is probably not helping my case,” Rex realized as he jerked his finger back. “Anyway, I want you to want to be with me.”
That was the problem. I did want to be with him. My practical nature knew better than to open my heart, though. He just wasn’t ready. Maybe one day. For now, I was convinced he wasn’t.
“I’m willing to work for it,” he said. “I think you’ll end up being pleasantly surprised at what I come up with.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I guess you’ll have to wait to find out.”
That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “I hate surprises.”
“You’re going to love this one. Trust me.”
20
TWENTY
Wooing.
That’s what I was doing with Ruby. I was wooing her. That’s what all the articles I read said I was doing anyway. Ruby might have liked her books, but I preferred reading online articles. They were quicker and the bullet points made my life easier.
According to what I was reading, wooing involved gifts and being charming. Both of those were easy for me. It was Vegas for crying out loud, there were gifts at every turn. Not buying the same gifts was where I ran into trouble.
“Um … I’m not sure.” I shook my head as I regarded the garish fake roses. The edges were painted with glitter and they looked tacky. It wasn’t about how much it cost. It was about the emotion it elicited. At least that’s what the online articles said. “My girl is classier.”
Cherise, the woman behind the counter, narrowed her eyes. She was in her seventies—although she’d been nipped and tucked so many times it was obvious she was trying to look forty—and her face barely moved. Even when she frowned there wasn’t a single line on her face. “Are you saying my stuff isn’t classy?” She planted her hands on her hips.
I angled my head and took in her sequined shorts. She wore them over nylons. Not the fashion ones the showgirls wore either. These looked to be the nylons that women used to buy in eggs and wear for a day before they ripped. “I would never say your stuff isn’t classy,” I lied. “It’s just … this is for the woman I’m trying to get to date me. She isn’t a glitter person.”
Cherise glanced at the fake roses, then turned her head toward the coolers behind her. “You want the real thing, they’re going to be expensive and die in a week.”
I shrugged. “It’s not about how long they live. It’s just … I need something beautiful.”
“Fine.” Cherise still wasn’t happy. She headed toward the coolers anyway. “What color do you want?”
Hmm. That was an interesting question. “What do the colors mean?”
