Page 2 of Smitten with the Single Dad

The server came around with the bill and, like it was no big deal, Track dug his black credit card out of his wallet and handed it to her.

“This is great,” Rhys said. “More employees should leave so we have more goodbye parties with the bill footed by the boss.”

They all gave him a strange look. When he realized what he had just said, more pink stained his cheeks, and he cleared his throat before glancing away.

The server returned with Track’s credit card and the slip which Track signed. He made sure to scrawl his name with a flourish, drawing everyone’s attention to the receipt and how much he was spending, as well as how much he was tipping.

He wasn’t a modest man.

In fact, Vica questioned whether there was even a modest cell, or bone, or whatever was the correct idiom, in the man’s body.

“Shall we move on to the next venue?” Track asked, stowing his credit card back in his wallet.

“Yes!” Frank cheered. “More free booze, here we come. And finally, it’ssomething I actually like—beer.”

Aleysha rolled her eyes before shrinking a little in the embarrassment that Vica felt as well. “Maybe keep your voice down a little, you socially awkward nugget. You’re in a freaking winery.”

Frank grimaced. “Shit. Right. Sorry.”

Track slapped him on the back. “All good, Frankie. I’m right there with you. Unless it’s twenty-five-year-old Scotch, I’m more a beer man myself.”

Vica and Aleysha hung back while the eight men headed toward the shuttle bus Track had rented for them—along with a driver. Aleysha wrapped an arm around Vica again, affectionately resting her cheek on Vica’s shoulder. “Don’t leave me with those morons. Please.”

Vica chuckled and wrapped an arm around Aleysha’s waist. “You could always come with me to New York.”

“Do you watch movies? Everything bad happens in New York.Everything.I’m good braving the tectonic plates shifting and causing a massive earthquake over on this side of the country. It could be tomorrow, or it could be in a hundred years. But at least the Avengers won’t be destroying my city every three or four years.”

Vica laughed. “Ah, I will miss you,Bella.”

They reached the shuttle bus, Aleysha’s eyes a little glassy from all the booze. “Ooh, speak more Italian to me.”

They’d been at the pub for hours.

Too many hours, in Vica’s opinion.

The sun was setting over the horizon to the west and all the guys were gettingmore and more obnoxious with each pitcher of beer.

Gone were their flights of beer for tasting. Now there were just jugs and jugs of their favorite brews on an endless loop in the center of the table.

Vica had never been a fan of beer.

It bloated her, and she really didn’t care for the taste.

But she felt ungrateful and awkward declining, especially after a flight was placed in front of her within moments of their arrival. Track had preordered for all of them, not even asking if she liked beer, let alone which ones she would like to sample.

However, since she appeared to be the only one who was put out by his lack of consideration, she kept her mouth shut and tried the beer.

It was okay.

Not her preference though.

Track, the attentive host and considerate boss that he was trying to be, noticed she wasn’t interested in her beer and pressured her to tell him her drink of choice.

She told him it was fine. But he wouldn’t let up. So she finally said, “Vodka soda.”

He hollered across the pub to their server, ordering her a double.

She nursed that as best she could, but after such a long day, all the alcohol they’d already consumed and so much sun, all she really wanted was a tall glass of water and her own bed.

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