Page 59 of Forgotten Romance

Because Luke is a really, really nice guy.

His smile is automatic when I climb in, eyes sweeping over me in an appreciative way I should like. But I don’t.

Little by little, his smile ebbs.

“What’s wrong?”

“Davey wasn’t jealous.”

There’s a moment where he twists his mouth from side to side like he’s not sure if he should answer or not. “The thing is, you’re the one who said you wanted to try a date for real. Just one. So I think if we’re going to do that, we need to not talk about Davey.”

“But—”

“He’s a huge part of your life. I get it. I also know the chances of anything happening here”—he swings a finger between us—“is slim. But if you want to actually try, just once, he needs to be out of the picture. We’ll go on a date, we’ll get to know each other, because I know there’s a lot more about you than your ex-husband, then I’ll drop you off and kiss you goodbye. Tomorrow, we’ll chat. No matter how tonight ends, we’re going to be friends.”

The absurdity of the situation hits me all at once, and I start to laugh uncontrollably.

“You okay?” Luke asks, a shadow of his earlier smile popping up.

“Yep. I, uh, I don’t know any other single person who’d agree to this. Why the fuck are you helping me?”

He shrugs. “Something to do.”

“It’s a big something.”

Luke groans and drops his forehead against the steering wheel. “Well, you’re hot, which definitely helps things, but—and I’m struggling with how to say this without it sounding weird—we’re a lot alike.” He stops abusing the steering wheel to look at me. “This sounds so stupid with all the drama surrounding your ex, but you don’t seem like the kind of guy who likes that. I get the impression you’re genuine, with a big heart, who just wants to be loved.”

My neck heats under my collar. “Umm … yeah. Those were a lot of words.”

“Sorry.”

I appreciate everything he’s doing for me, so the least I can do is make an effort too. With an almost panicky feeling, I slide the wedding band off my pointer finger and tuck it into my pocket. “I’m ready.”

“Then can we go on our date, please?”

“You’re the one driving.”

He shakes his head, smile eating his face as he pulls out to drive to the restaurant, which, he assured me, does not specialize in foods that will send me to the ER tonight.

I get a flash of waking up to Davey waiting on me, and I hurry to push it out again. Luke made a good point that if I want to give this a real go, Davey can’t be on this date with us.

Luke deserves better than that, anyway.

Free Talk is a pretty little place with views of the water. Given it’s Saturday, it’s already busy, and we trail after the server who leads us to our table. We do the thing where the menus are dropped off and our water glasses are filled, and we nod and say thank you and avoid making eye contact.

Then we’re left in silence.

And it occurs to me that the only conversational topics I have in mind involve the D-word.

And I don’t mean dick.

“So … dick, huh?”

Luke almost snorts water from his nose. Through the coughing and hurrying to cover his face with a napkin, he gasps out, “What?”

“I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“I figured.” He finishes wiping his face and sets the napkin down. “Not what I was expecting you to say in a very full restaurant.”

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