“Your adoptive mom sounds like an amazing woman. Very special.”
“Yeah, she was.” It still hurt. “She died of breast cancer four years ago.”
“Oh, Gabe.”
“It was a while ago. It’s fine.” A thick silence fell over the room for a long minute.
“I see we’re both part of the Fuck-ity, Fuck, Fuck Cancer Club.”
I looked up, and her grin was the sun. “I guess we are.”
“Yeah, I don’t have enough middle fingers for cancer.”
There was a pull to her that I needed to stay on top of. Okay, edit that. Not stay on top of. I would not be on top of anyone in this cabin. Instead, be aware that she was off limits. “So the wedding party weekend brought you back? Or maybe a guy?” WTF are you doing? I was having trouble focusing as she pushed her long hair over her shoulder. Visions at warp speed of that hair in my face while tasting her lips was almost too much.
“Yes, the wedding weekend. I come home every summer for a week, and they come visit me as well, but I decided to take six weeks off to be here for this weekend and then stay through the wedding. I just want to hang with my family and friends.” Her eyes stayed down. “As far as men, my guydar is all jacked up.” She caught my confused expression.
“Guydar?” I had to ask.
“Yeah, you know, guy radar.”
“What?” I stepped closer to put my candlestick in her lube. Yes, I am the definition of what gives men a bad name.
“I think most women have a guydar that leads them to the right kind of guy and away from the wrong kind. I think mine needs to be recalled.” She shook her head as the softest giggle escaped.
“Intriguing. An example?”
“Let’s see. The last guy I dated broke into my apartment and stole all my clothes. Then he lit my shoes on fire in the parking lot.”
I couldn’t control my chuckle. “Oooh, a bonfire?”
“You got it.”
“Well, in that case, my chick-o-meter is busted too.”
“I can’t wait to hear an example.”
I scratched my head. “So many. Let’s see. Last year I took a gal out a few times, and I told her from the beginning that I wasn’t looking for a long-term thing.”
“And she didn’t like that? Shocking.”
“After hourly texts and pictures, I suggested she might be perfect for someone who was looking for a true relationship. That rattled her cage, and she got into my place, stole all my car keys, and then sent me a ransom note.”
“Dare I ask?”
“She’d only give me the keys back if I did a Zoom with her and her parents, pretending to be in love with her, and give her one thousand dollars.”
“Hmmm. I’m suddenly wondering what you do do to make girls crazy.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“Says every convicted criminal.”
“Hey—”
“Whatever.” She waved her lube tube in the air. “Look at this, the last candle. We’re about done.” She let out a long sigh. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me with this.”
“Anytime.” She looked up, and I realized how perfectly her black lashes framed her ocean eyes. “I got you.”
