Page 11 of Unleashing Chaos

“I thought he said his pet was a lizard,” I say, my shoulders slumping just as I get my jacket pulled over them.

“I’m thinking it’s more like a snake with an aversion to almost marriage proposals within two minutes of meeting his date,” Cannon says.

Kicking my heels off and leaving them in the middle of the floor, I move next to Cannon. “What did I do wrong? I know I went on a bit of a ramble, but I’m just nervous. Was marriage not okay to mention? Where I come from people talk about all kinds of things openly, including marriage, and no one freaks out.”

“Desi, I don’t care where you’re from; most guys younger than twenty-five are going to freak out about marriage. That’s a conversation for, like, the twentieth date, if not the fiftieth.”

I prop my elbows on the counter and thread my fingers through my hair, gripping it at the roots. “I clearly have no idea what the hell I’m doing.”

“You need to relax. Remember, these guys are just as nervous as you.”

I snort and open the fridge, snatching a can of soda from inside. “Yeah, right. I am such a damn mess. You’ve been on dates before. How do you know what to say? When to say it?”

“Treat your dates the way you’re treating me right now.”

“That won’t work. I’m only like this with you because you’re so easy to talk with.”

“You’re overthinking this.” He tips his chin at my shoes and says, “Throw those back on and let me at least take you out for some appetizers and a beer. You look too good to let this go to waste.”

A smile sneaks onto my face and I let my shoulders relax. “All right. Like a practice run so this humiliating situation doesn’t happen again?”

He holds his arm out to me. “Sure, if that’s how you want to think of it. I just figure this is my chance to wiggle my way in for a short date.”

“Wait. Are you considering this a real date?” I ask, grabbing my purse off the counter and slinging it over my free arm.

“A mini date,” he says, with a flirtatious wink.

We stop at the front door where Cannon’s shoes lie nowhere near the bench. He puts them on, and we step outside. The sun is low in the sky and the air is brisk. Goosebumps form on my legs, my dress doing little to ward off the cold. Cannon opens the car’s passenger door, and I climb inside. He speeds down the road, shifting gears and tapping his fingers to the music.

I can’t stop myself from sneaking peeks at him. A light dusting of black stubble graces his jawline. His skin is perfect, not a single blemish. I want to touch it and see if it is as soft as it looks. And those dimples, they might charm me more than his words. Meredith wasn’t joking when she called him a scrumptious option.

It isn’t more than five minutes before he pulls his Lexus into the parking lot of a hole-in-the-wall bar. He guides me in with his hand at the small of my back. His touch makes me a little nervous, yet at the same time it’s calming, which is good since the place is packed. Businessmen in suits and a cluster of women holding fruity drinks congregate around the bar. Even with everyone absorbed in conversations and the dim lights, I feel a little too dressed up, but Cannon doesn’t seem to mind as he flashes a smile at a group of people dressed in sports paraphernalia and leads me to an empty booth.

“This place is busy,” I practically yell to Cannon across the table.

“Yeah, they have good everything, but their fried pickles are my favorite,” he says, pulling two menus from behind the napkin dispenser and handing me one.

My eyebrow dips. “Fried pickles? Like, pickles you put on a burger? Fried?”

Cannon’s eyes widen. “You don’t know what fried pickles are?”

I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “I take it they’re delicious?”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” he says as the server comes over.

He orders us some, himself a beer, and a margarita for me. As we wait for our drinks, I look at Cannon and chew on my bottom lip before saying, “Thank you for taking me out tonight. I would’ve sat at home and sulked for the rest of the evening if you hadn’t.”

“Not a problem. I’ve wanted more time to get to know you, just the two of us.”

My heart pounds against my rib cage at the thought of us alone. “Yeah? I’d like to get to know you better too.” My nerves are rattled, and I take a drink of the margarita as soon as the server brings it out. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with the basics. I know you’re under pressure to find a partner, but why look for a potential husband in Denver? Wouldn’t it be easier to find someone closer to your home?”

I take a long sip of the frozen drink and choose my words carefully. “My hometown is small and there aren’t a lot of men to choose from. I went out with a few guys, and none of them were what I was looking for. I needed to get away, get out on my own. And this seemed like the kind of place I wanted to be.”

“And were you looking for a ski instructor? Is that the career of choice for your future boyfriend?”

I cock my head to the side and stick my tongue out. “Apparently not, at least not one with a pet lizard.”

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